Jill Shultz's Blog - Posts Tagged "body-speech"
The Origins of Body Speech
There's a terrific article in the June issue of The Atlantic about the evolution of hand gestures. In it, Jen Doll writes that researchers believe "the idiosyncratic, often unconscious ways we move our hands as we talk... may help us think and speak and even learn."
In addition to the varied waves and swoops that accompany our speech, there are emblematic gestures that can substitute for words, such as the thumbs-up to indicate you're okay. I used both types in my book and called them body speech. Interestingly, the meanings of some gestures have changed dramatically from their original sense, while others retained their meaning even though the object they imitated is no longer common. A good example of that is the "phone me" gesture, with the pinkie finger and thumb stretched as if cradling a rotary phone's handset. Some kids who have never even seen an old corded telephone use that gesture.
I'm looking forward to reading the article in print, but check it out online (http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/a...)
to see the accompanying video, a short guide to world hand gestures. It's great. Makes you want to put your hands in your pockets, doesn't it? Of course, then I wouldn't be able to talk.
The body speech in Angel was inspired by an interview of the dancer and choreographer Bill T. Jones. Though he was seated, he never stopped moving, and his graceful gestures added depth to his words.
Yes, I thought. Someone who is used to expressing himself physically for his art would use movement to communicate all the time. And he'd have his own dialect of gestures that would be more graceful and dramatic than mainstream body language, because he's more adept at physical expression.
That's how body speech was born. I knew that different communities of deaf people have unique signs, and that researchers have discovered dialects among birds. I decided to use body speech as a dialect in my novel, with some groups using it to a much greater extent than others. The circus artists have the most dramatic "body accent," while the Seekers hardly use gestures at all. The heartwave, a gesture I created, was derived from the arm flourish that might accompany a bow.
In addition to the varied waves and swoops that accompany our speech, there are emblematic gestures that can substitute for words, such as the thumbs-up to indicate you're okay. I used both types in my book and called them body speech. Interestingly, the meanings of some gestures have changed dramatically from their original sense, while others retained their meaning even though the object they imitated is no longer common. A good example of that is the "phone me" gesture, with the pinkie finger and thumb stretched as if cradling a rotary phone's handset. Some kids who have never even seen an old corded telephone use that gesture.
I'm looking forward to reading the article in print, but check it out online (http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/a...)
to see the accompanying video, a short guide to world hand gestures. It's great. Makes you want to put your hands in your pockets, doesn't it? Of course, then I wouldn't be able to talk.
The body speech in Angel was inspired by an interview of the dancer and choreographer Bill T. Jones. Though he was seated, he never stopped moving, and his graceful gestures added depth to his words.
Yes, I thought. Someone who is used to expressing himself physically for his art would use movement to communicate all the time. And he'd have his own dialect of gestures that would be more graceful and dramatic than mainstream body language, because he's more adept at physical expression.
That's how body speech was born. I knew that different communities of deaf people have unique signs, and that researchers have discovered dialects among birds. I decided to use body speech as a dialect in my novel, with some groups using it to a much greater extent than others. The circus artists have the most dramatic "body accent," while the Seekers hardly use gestures at all. The heartwave, a gesture I created, was derived from the arm flourish that might accompany a bow.
