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At Azara Ballet, dancers aren\u2019t expected to make eye contact with the directors and choreographers. If company members need an impromptu break from the harsh stage lights during rehearsal, they take one. They also receive clear directions about hair and makeup well in advance of performances.<\/p>\n
The priority at Azara<\/a> is dancers\u2019 health. Founded in 2022 by the dancers Kate Flowers and Martin Roosaare, who are both autistic (and are a married couple), the company, which is based in Sarasota and Bradenton, Fla., is a haven for neurodivergent performers. (The company is made up of 10 dancers, not all of whom are neurodivergent.)<\/p>\n \u201cWhen I am dancing,\u201d Flowers said, \u201cas long as it\u2019s in a good environment and a safe space, the expression through nonverbal movement is something that helps me a lot.\u201d<\/p>\n Azara addresses a gap in the dance world: the need for spaces where people who have autism, A.D.H.D. or other conditions that fall under the broad term \u201cneurodivergent\u201d can freely experience the art form. Evidence, both anecdotal and empirical, suggests that there\u2019s a deep connection between dance and these neurological conditions. This relationship has become an area of increased focus for researchers, artists and performing arts organizations in recent years.<\/a><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n In November, Azara gathered for a run-through of its program \u201cVoices of Azara\u201d in the black box theater where the show would soon take place. The atmosphere in the theater felt both active \u2014 the dancers warmed up, reviewed steps, chatted \u2014 and calm: There was tempered lighting, pleasantly cool air and, among the performers, a seemingly innate awareness of the volume of their voices.<\/p>\n To begin the rehearsal, Roosaare gave the dancers a rundown of the schedule for the next three hours. Then, they went through the four pieces \u2014 all by company members \u2014 before receiving notes. As the dancers performed, the music was never overwhelmingly loud, and corrections were never shouted.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n Mostly, though, the rehearsal didn\u2019t appear much different than that of any small dance company. But what makes \u201ca world of difference,\u201d said the dancer Rebecca Kimsey, who is autistic, is the level of humanity and consideration in the studio.<\/p>\n \u201cMartin and Kate have been very accepting and also very understanding of anything that comes up,\u201d she said, \u201clike if I\u2019m having a day where I wake up with a migraine from overstimulation.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n She added: \u201cIf we\u2019re in rehearsal and things are moving really fast, they still don\u2019t yell out corrections, which can alarm or startle people if they\u2019re focused.\u201d<\/p>\n Flowers said she had always felt pulled toward dance. \u201cParticularly with autism, it\u2019s really helpful to have structure,\u201d she said. \u201cDance really provides that. It makes sense why I was drawn to dance, and why I kept being drawn back.\u201d<\/p>\n Research validates these experiences. Findings suggest that dance may be unusually well-suited to complementing the strengths that come with being autistic or having certain neurological conditions, while also assuaging some of the difficulties.<\/p>\n