Why Creativity Should Not Serve Ideology
There are moments in academic life when a single text shifts the ground beneath your feet. For me, this happened when my university professor, Petri Hoppu, shared an article that quietly — and then overwhelmingly — transformed my worldview.
I am deeply grateful to him for that. His ability to open intellectual doors, to guide without imposing, and to illuminate complexity with clarity is nothing short of extraordinary. He is, in every sense, a brilliant professor — the kind whose influence stays with you long after the course ends.
This blog post is inspired by his article, by his teaching, and by the way he encouraged us to think beyond the obvious. It is my attempt to explore the themes that resonated with me most: the tension between freedom in creativity and discipline in cultural expression, the body as a site of power, and the fragile line between art and ideology.
A Personal Encounter
More and more, I find myself thinking that creativity is the last space that must remain free. Free from ideology, from national expectations, from cultural prescriptions, from religious restrictions, from patriotic demands.
When we create choreography, when we weave together movements from different cultures, we are not obliged to “represent” anything or anyone. We can simply create.
But the reality is that dance is one of the most controlled art forms. And that is not accidental.
Foucault and the Body as an Object of Power
Michel Foucault wrote that beginning in the 17th century, the human body became an object of discipline. It was shaped, trained, corrected, and turned into an instrument of power.
Dance was no exception. It became part of a system in which the body had to:
- move “properly”
- express the “right” values
demonstrate the “right” culture
This is why dance as discipline is not just aesthetics — it is a political tool.
Living Folk Dance: Chaos, Speed, Shouting, Joy
But if we look at real descriptions of folk dancing from the 19th and early 20th centuries, we see something entirely different. In Samuli Paulaharju’s accounts, dance is a storm:
- huge circles
- hands tightly interwoven
- wild speed
- singing, shouting, roaring
- shifting rhythms — polska, falssi, polkka
- jumps, spins, improvisation
This is not “cultural heritage.” This is life happening in real time.
In Heikki Klemetti’s description of the Kopukka dance, movement becomes percussion: heel strikes, toe strikes, boots clapping together, a rhythm that turns into “machine‑gun rattling.” This is not discipline. This is the body speaking for itself.
But What Was Done to This Dance?
When the movement to “preserve” folk dances began, the following happened:
- dances were selected
- “inappropriate” elements were removed
- movements were simplified
- rhythms were normalized
- improvisation was forbidden
- physicality was softened
chaos was replaced with order
Folk dance stopped being folk. It became a symbol, a display, an instrument of national ideology. This is a classic example of cultural normalization.
Finland: How “Proper” Dance Was Constructed
In early 20th‑century Finland, dance became part of a nationalist ideal. Dances were: collected, edited, shortened, rewritten and adapted for the stage.
They were transformed into “beautiful,” “pure,” “dignified” forms that matched the tastes of the educated class. Dance was expected to:
- educate
- discipline
- unify
- symbolize the nation
This is why leaders of dance organizations spoke of dances as “precious treasures” that must not be “spoiled” by incorrect movement. This is no longer creativity. This is cultural policy.
Ireland, the USSR, Eastern Europe: Dance as Ideological Tool
Finland was not unique. In Ireland, dance was centralized and standardized as part of the independence movement. In the USSR, dance became a tool of communist ideology. In Eastern Europe, it was used to oppose Western cultural influence.
Everywhere, dance became:
- a symbol
- a tool of education
a means of control
And everywhere, freedom of the body disappeared.
Why I Choose Freedom
When my friend told me she would worry if her culture were shown “incorrectly” in a project, I understood how deep this fear runs. But the project we discussed was not about reconstruction. It was about creating a new world, a new culture, a new movement language.
And here the central question emerges: Why do some people feel free to create, while others feel obligated to represent?
Perhaps the difference between an open artist and a fearful amateur is that the artist allows themselves to step beyond identity. The artist uses imagination as a tool, not as a threat.
Dance Should Not Be a Showcase. It Should Be Freedom.
Dance is:
- body
- rhythm
- impulse
- breath
- chaos
- energy
- play
- exploration
It is not an obligation. Not a symbol. Not a cultural report. Not a national project. Dance is freedom, and we have spent far too long trying to tame it.
A Question for the Reader
What matters more to you in dance — freedom or identity? And is it even possible to dance if you are afraid of making a mistake.
Sources
Petri Hoppu.
Auttakoon Terpsichore!
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