Dalcroze Eurhythmics is a rich and multifaceted, living practice that has developed a wide range of applications and pedagogical approaches during more than a century of endeavour.Most researchers have situated this work within music education, dance and theatre history and therapy of various kinds. In this article we argue that it may also be considered a somatic practice owing to the ways in which movement, space, sensation, presence, touch and improvisation are central to the method. While recognizing that not all somatic practices include touch and improvisation, we focus on these aspects to explore the notion of the haptic nature of vision and sound, as they are manifest in the Dalcroze class. Drawing on practical examples of widespread practice within the Dalcroze community as well as personal experiences, we assert that the touch-like nature of sound not only makes contact with the body, inciting physical and emotional movement, but also develops awareness of self, others and environment due to the social nature of musical participation in general and of the rhythmics class in particular. I am seated at the piano at one end of a dance studio. I look at the group of students filling the space. They are dressed for a movement class. The fingers of my left hand trail over the piano keys, cool, black and white. They choose a low G. Quietly, slowly and smoothly they trace a line that rises up to the D, then G above. As they do so the group starts to move into the space, gathering speed as my phrase passes into my right hand, gaining momentum and intensity. The left hand joins the right and as music spreads out over the whole keyboard, the class spreads out in the room. Responding to my sound the students start to travel with the triplets I am now playing, each student moving in a unique and personal way: we are all 'tripletting' together. They look as if they are flying. As I shape my music towards a cadence they start to look for a partner. KeywordsAs I bring my music to rest they draw together and touch hands. I withdraw my fingers from the keys. Silence. They laugh. 3We do not hold hands but my hand rests firmly on hers.We run and glide, dip and turn.(This is the nearest I've ever been to feeling what a bird must feel.)The choir intones and the saxophone spins out its line.Other sensations quickly fade.My whole being is concentrated in that single point of contact: hand on hand.I want nothing; all is trust and movement.I am aware of the space of the entire room, Right up to the corners beyond my reach.It seems as if this point of contact -the ever-renewing beginning point of the phrasecan travel anywhere.As we turn I feel the sun on my face.As we soar forward my mouth drops open.

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