From a young age, the captivating skirl of bagpipes and the dynamic movements of Highland Dance had me hooked. Growing up, I wasn’t just taking ballet classes; I was immersed in the world of Highland dancing. From the age of six to eleven, my heart belonged to this energetic and traditional Scottish art form. Ballet was a supplementary practice, something I enjoyed once or twice a week, but Highland dance was my true passion and my primary focus.
Alt text: A young girl in Highland dance attire, a baby photo showcasing early involvement in highland dance.
But what exactly is Highland dance? Originating from Scotland, Highland dance is a demanding and athletic art form steeped in history and tradition. It’s more than just a dance; it’s a sport that cultivates incredible stamina, strength, and precise technique. While its roots stretch back centuries, the Highland dance we know today largely developed in the 19th and 20th centuries, and it continues to be a vibrant and evolving dance form practiced and celebrated worldwide.
For those involved in Highland dance, the Highland Games are central to the experience. These events, held across the globe, are where Highland dancers compete and showcase their skills. As a competitor, you are judged individually in front of an audience on a series of dances, traditionally performed to the stirring accompaniment of a live bagpiper. The core competitive dances typically include the Highland Fling, a dance characterized by its intricate footwork and leaps; the Sword Dance, a test of precision and agility; the Sean Triubhas, a dance that tells a story of shedding trousers; and the energetic Reel. Dancers adorn themselves in traditional Highland attire, including a kilt, jacket, and knee socks, often choosing colors that reflect their personal or familial connections. While there are many other Highland dances, these four form the cornerstone of most competitions.
One of the most striking aspects of Highland dancing is the constant elevation and spring. Dancers perform almost entirely on the balls of their feet, alternating leg movements for what can feel like an eternity – often close to four minutes per dance. Heels are intentionally kept off the ground, and allowing them to touch can result in point deductions from the judges. This constant demand for elevation builds exceptional leg strength, a prerequisite for any serious Highland dancer.
Of all the dances, the Sword Dance always held a special allure for me. It’s a dance of focus and precision, performed over a sword laid out in a cross shape on the floor. The challenge is immense: one misstep, one brush of the sword with your foot, and you face disqualification. The Sean Triubhas, in contrast, features movements that share a closer affinity with ballet, exhibiting grace and flowing lines. And then there’s the Reel, a lively and social dance, almost folk-like in its character, full of joyful energy. Each dance has its own unique character and challenges, making Highland dance a diverse and engaging discipline. Even now, years later, the sound of bagpipes instantly triggers a reaction in me. Firstly, I have an irresistible urge to find the source of the music, and secondly, without even thinking, I find myself ready to perform any of the Highland dances. The steps are so deeply ingrained in my muscle memory, they are imprinted on my brain forever!
Alt text: A young highland dancer, labeled Midwest Champion, holding a trophy, representing success in highland dance competitions.
My childhood weekends were largely spent traveling. Almost every week, we were on the road, heading to a different state or even across the border to Canada to participate in Highland Games. I have vivid memories of those journeys – my brother occupied with his Game Boy in the back seat, my dad diligently driving, and my mom ensuring everything was organized and ready for the competitions. I achieved the title of Midwest Champion multiple times, a source of great pride. But one particular moment stands out: at the age of ten, I won the United States Championship! I was absolutely ecstatic. My dad, who was filming the award ceremony, was so surprised and overjoyed when my name was announced as the winner that he actually fell off his chair! It was a truly unexpected and thrilling victory for everyone. Ever since winning that USA Championship title while wearing a red kilt, red has become my lucky color, a reminder of that special triumph.
Alt text: Three young highland dancers, one identified as the USA Champion on the right, showcasing early achievements in highland dance.
So, to answer the question of whether Highland dancing helped prepare me for ballet – the answer is a resounding YES! 100%. Highland dancing undeniably played a crucial role in preparing me for the intricate demands of the Bournonville style and for ballet in general.
The Bournonville style of ballet is renowned for its quick, light, and intricate jumps – the petit allegro. While in ballet of all styles, dancers ground their heels fully when landing jumps – a technique that’s healthier for the body’s mechanics – Highland dance, performed exclusively on the balls of the feet, cultivated a unique kind of muscle strength in my legs from a very young age. This early development proved to be invaluable, effectively pre-training my legs for the demanding jumps inherent in Bournonville technique.
Beyond physical preparation, Highland competitions were instrumental in preparing me for the stage. Stepping out in front of an audience, whether large or small, never felt daunting. I was accustomed to performing under pressure, being judged, and commanding attention. In fact, I often became the impromptu entertainment at family gatherings. The phrase, “Get Holly to dance, she will do it,” was a common request, and I was always happy to oblige.
Alt text: Highland dancer performing the Sword Dance at a family gathering, demonstrating the performance aspect of highland dance in an informal setting.
Furthermore, Highland dance significantly contributed to my musicality. In the Bournonville style, nuanced musicality is key; dancers must discern which jumps to accent more than others, interpreting the music and step sequences with precision. Highland dancing, performed to the distinctive rhythms of bagpipe music, instilled in me an early awareness of musicality, training my mind to connect movements to the music, and to make my jumps and steps a musical expression in themselves.
However, it’s important to acknowledge where Highland dance and ballet diverge. Highland dancing didn’t directly prepare me for the specific port de bras (arm movements) and head positions characteristic of Bournonville ballets. Highland dance utilizes the arms in a distinctive way – unlike Irish dance, which keeps the arms still, Highland dance employs arm movements, but primarily above the head or placed on the hips, rarely venturing below waist level. Bournonville style, in contrast, features arm movements that are almost exclusively below the waist, requiring a different aesthetic and technique.
Despite these differences, I wholeheartedly recommend Highland dancing to anyone, especially those already engaged in ballet training. It can only enhance your overall dance capabilities. Highland dance is not only fun and competitive, but it also provides a robust foundation that can benefit you in numerous ways in your future dance pursuits and beyond. I am profoundly grateful for my Highland dancing years; they shaped me as a dancer and instilled in me a lifelong love for movement and music.
Alt text: Highland dancer performing outdoors in California, showcasing the global reach and diverse performance locations for highland dance.
xoxo -Hol
