In line with the thinking of Laurence Louppe calling for a reevaluation and problematisation of oral sources within a dance history framework, this paper sets out to examine the extensive archive of the Bennington Summer School of the Dance Oral History Project, conducted between 1978 and 1979 and housed today at Columbia University. By taking as a starting point the dancer's voice at the heart of the educational project conceived by Martha Hill and Mary Jo Shelly, a different dance history of the thirties begins to emerge, bringing to the fore the dancer's evolving experience that constitutes a true Bennington archive, set against the backdrop of the “Big Four” ultimately not part of the project.

The Green Table is unique on our stages. In the late 20th century no one is dancing anything quite like it. This is not only because of its age–many ballets are older but look modern. Dancers almost unconsciously speak in the idiom of their time, steadily and imperceptibly polishing the patina off old artifacts to keep them fresh. I think even in well-preserved ballets there is much that is not prescribed, many expressive choices that aren't even acknowledged. When a dancer learns a role, he or she tries to accomodate to the steps, to own them. Most often, the steps end up accomodating to the dancer. They end up looking contemporary, whatever their origin.

The Green Table is an exception. Its production style and its dance idiom are attached to the late-expressionist period, that remote phase of cultural history between the great wars, so earnest in its innocence and anger, its fears and its ironies. Because of his particular method of fitting image to action, Kurt Jooss gave us a document that insists on telling us about its time, even as it reflects into our own.

The goal of expressionistic art, literature, and music was to use emotion and memory as a conduit to more universal feelings. Unlike the Romantics, to whom they were related, the expressionists did not view their art solely as a personal outcry. Expressionism nearly always had a spiritual component. This took the direction not of personal uplift or ecstasy, but of a surge toward the cosmos. Expressionists wanted to know and dramatize their connections with nature, with archeological time, with mystery and magic, and with other human beings living in their own time and place. Early expressionism unleashed a chaotic, anarchic freedom that often looked like madness. After the real trauma of World War I, artists began to draw back from those limitless, destabilized, early visions, into the safety of more rational, formal structures.

This essay argues that Trio A suspends dramatic form and develops an autonomous aesthetic process, called ambulatory performance. To explain this concept, it turns to Michel de Certeau, who claims that walking eludes formal unity and makes “spaces” for phenomena excluded from representation: everyday life, which is composed of ceaselessly moving singular “footsteps.” In this way, ambulatory performance emulates cinema, whose successive motion also relays quotidian experience. In order to identify a common theoretical basis for dance and media, the essay then relates this successive motion to the concept of automatisms, which film scholars have used to challenge medium specificity in response to the rise of digital cinema.

It is generally agreed that attitudes are composed of elements from the affective, behavioral, and cognitive domains. The affective component has been referred to as a feeling or an emotional response of liking or disliking, a gut reaction, or sympathetic nervous activity. The behavioral component includes overt actions or intentions of action, and verbal statements regarding future behavior. The cognitive component includes knowledge and beliefs of the attitude object that describe its characteristics, and its relationship to other objects (Breckler 1984, Katz 1960, Morris and Stuckhardt 1977).

Recent attitude research suggests discriminating between the three psychological domains, either by measuring each or by specifying which one is the focus of concern. Discrimination may be appropriate since the three domains are distinguishable from one another and correlations among them are sometimes moderate (Breckler 1984). Discrimination among attitudinal domains also appears to be necessary since it has been found that directing change at one of the three domains may affect a shift in the other two (Cialdini et al. 1976, Katz 1960), and because differences between groups of subjects may fall within one or two of the domains rather than all three (Quattrone 1985).