Official Recognition

Okay, well maybe saying that being mentioned in the Indy Dancers’ newsletter isn’t quite ‘official recognition’. I mean that implies an official recognizing you. Still it was nice to see our names and faces under the banner of welcoming new members. Makes you want to go out and join more stuff just so you can be welcomed.

Swing in Utah

Utah is a strange place – a study in contrasts: the wildness of the Rockies and the conservativeness of Salt Lake City blending under the western sky. The first time I traveled to SLC it caught me by surprise with its size, the city is a lot like LA…it goes on for mile after mile, washing up against the Wasatch Range and steeping itself in the Great Salt Lake before rolling on toward Nevada and Idaho. It’s the sort of place where you can drive for an hour in nearly any direction without getting out of the ‘burbs and, at the same time, the kind of place where liquor can only be obtained through state run liquor stores and in some places you’re asked to buy a ‘private license’ to drink in a bar.

So, when Kelly told me about the Murray Arts Center (MAC) and their weekly swing nights I was skeptical. Maybe you can’t blame me for envisioning a room with a big swing set as the only kind of swinging that could possible go on in SLC. I stand corrected.

The MAC isn’t the historic building I always hope for. The fellow who took our entry fee told us that the building had been there ‘a long time’ but the signage indicated otherwise – to me ‘founded in 1986’ doesn’t qualify for a long time after I’ve danced at the Indiana Roof and the Paramount Theatre. Inside, though, was a quality hardwood floor that was well maintained and well used. The music was more modern than I like but then again the swing wasn’t the sort that I’m used to doing back here in the Midwest either. See, somehow I’d managed to forget that Utah was out west – and that meant that the swing would be of the West Coast persuasion. This meant I got to see a lot of smooth moves and a few really good dancers – but I spent a good deal of time playing wallflower too.

We did get to try our hustle a few times – that’s progressing nicely but I’m still having a hard time getting to really like a dance that came about when I was in grade school and can claim ‘Disco Duck’ as one of its memorable pieces of music. I’m trying to mount a recovery, though – it’s a slow process.

I also should be clear about the venue – the MAC actually hosts ballroom dances and is across the street from The Dance Center, which is the swing venue. The great thing is that for one price ($7.00 apiece) you get access to both venues (on the nights that both have dances). The MAC has a live band (though the night we were there calling the band ‘live’ was a stretch) while The Dance Center has a DJ (on the night we were there he was dedicated to WC music with the odd exception of tossing in a waltz once in awhile…don’t ask me). Do I recommend a visit if you’re in Utah? I’d say yes – especially if you love WC swing…but if you’re looking for some good big band music, hot jive, and maybe a lindy or two…well, maybe you should try Idaho.

Hawkeye Swing Fest Photos

Just a tiny word before hitting the airways this morning. Hawkeye Swing Festival published 900 pictures of the 2008 event – some nice photos, too bad we didn’t show up in one!

Do They Swing in Utah?

It’s nice when you can travel for work – well, when you can travel for work sometimes, not in a Willy Lowman kind of way. Tomorrow I’m heading for Salt Lake City for a two day training course and since the course is on Thursday and Friday I decided to extend my stay by a day so that Kelly and I could have a Friday and Saturday in Utah. As luck would have it, we’re staying close to the Murray Art Center and the art center has Friday and Saturday night dancing!

So, after answering the question ‘Do They Swing in Iowa’, now we’re off to answer the same question about Utah. I’ll be sure to let you know when we return!

When was that Lindy?

I’m guilty of it.

Most people who do the Lindy Hop at your local swing club are guilty of it.

Most of the bands that play those venues are guilty of it.

That ‘it’ is the assumption that the Lindy happened inside a time capsule which somehow began at the Savoy in New York in the mid to late 30’s and ended after LA’s Zoot Suit Riots in October 1942. In the modern mind, in fact, the dance has almost inextricably been linked with baggy pants, the Hollywood waistline, and wide-brimmed fedoras complete with some absurd feather in the hatband. In the modern era that is the definition of Lindy Hop, at least to the folks who don’t bother to do more than scratch the surface.

Like I said, I put myself in that category – or at least I did until I found a YouTube clip of Bill Haley and the Comets doing the song Rip It Up. I believe the clip comes from Don’t Knock the Rock, but I’m not certain of that fact. Whatever film it comes from, Haley’s band recorded Rip It Up for Decca in 1956 - that’d be a full 14 years after the end of the LA riots and well beyond the zone in which most of us would expect a good Lindy. Yet, take a look at the clip and you’ll see some dancers definitely ripping it up. The heartening part is that in ’56 the dance still was very much alive (and you’ll actually see dancers in a film doing a BASIC Lindy instead of strictly all the tricks). The sad part is that suddenly all the folks doing the Lindy are white – the modicum of integration that the Savoy brought to the New York scene obviously didn’t survive.

Two, Two, Two Clubs in One

We’re now officially members of two dance clubs. Well, actually we’ve been members of one for about two months but I neglected writing about joining and since we joined a second one last night I thought I’d make amends. One nice, clean, confession – then my conscience is clear.

The first club we joined was The Brickyard Boogie Dancers. Yeah, what a name – it’s the sort of thing you only say under your breath, and even then you get the obligatory ‘the what-yard-what dancers?’ in response. The club focuses mostly on EC swing with a healthy dose of Country Western music thrown in. Not exactly the stuff that makes me Jump Jive and Wail but at the going rate of $8 for a three-hour dance we’ll make our membership dues back quickly. And it’s another chance to get out and dance.

The second club we joined (the one we joined last night) is Indy Dancers. This club’s more into the WC swing and a lot of night club stuff – we definitely got a chance to work out our hustle last night (so much that we really need a couple new moves so that it doesn’t feel repetitive!). Again, no – the musical choice isn’t big band and the EC swings were far between, but it was fun and it was the proverbial ‘chance to dance’.

Friday Night Starlight

Friday night is the night for dancing. It’s been that way almost forever – even if most everyone has forgotten that fact. The classic scenario – get your paycheck, take a little money, dress up, go out with the one you love, and escape the world on the dance floor. It doesn’t matter if you like swing, salsa, waltzing, or the hustle – what does matter is there you are with someone you want to hold, moving to the music.

This Friday was practice night at the Starlight Ballroom. It’s a good venue; I think I’ve mentioned that they’ve got a wonderful floor. Fridays the dance instructors play DJ and the tune progression is a little predictable (kick it off with a EC triple swing and finish the night with a waltz) but the crowd is small, the pressure is low, and for ten bucks there you are on the floor enjoying the evening.

We went to Starlight with Elcira and Jenette, two dear friends who’ve had dance classes in the past and who are debating a return. I’m urging them to stop considering and start doing – nothing good comes of considering (well, at least not if you’re considering whether or not to do something you love), you just have to get up and dance and see where your feet take you.

That Golden Feeling

I’ve been thinking about the 1920’s lately. I think I’ve mentioned it’s one of my interests, probably the one that was most responsible for my wanting to learn to dance (even though most of the dances we’re learning came a lot later). This time, though, it wasn’t the usual mulling over or listening to music that brought me to think about the era.

Wednesday was our usual dance class, back in the safe confines of Dance Masters in Southport with our own instructor and without two dozen collage students competing for the attentions of the instructor (and the girl across the room). I started to think about how Dance Masters has become sort of our safe zone, a place that feels golden and good and where nothing too rotten seems to happen (if you discount my stepping on poor Kelly’s feet). Thinking about this situation made me wonder if the folks back in the 20’s felt that way about the entire era – if they felt that nothing could go wrong, like they were living a charmed existence fueled by Champaign and jazz. In 1929, when Eddie Cantor sang ‘Making Whoopee’ he hardly could have predicted that a year later there would be bread lines, a stock market crash, and the world would begin its plunge into the depths of the Great Depression.

Dancing in the studio sorta’ reminds me of April of 1929. The daffodils are blooming, the weather is warming, and the storm clouds are safely on the other side of the horizon where you can’t worry about them. Once you leave the studio you’re batted about by ill mannered dancers who don’t know how to share the floor, poor instructors who don’t know how to teach the steps, and bad bands that can’t keep a beat. It can be depressing! But it makes you appreciate the good things you have. So kudos Mark and Melissa – let the good times roll.

Hawkeye Swing Fest - Vintage Dance

I am hopped out. In a good way. The lindy hop conference in Iowa was overall really good. We learned a lot and we came home with some groovy moves. (Hello 8 count hang out swishy-swish). Gary and I are both inspired to add more fun into our swing, which is a very good thing. I won't go into details since my husband has done so more eloquently than I ever could.

Couple of adds. Melissa, if possible, has grown even more fab in my eyes. She is, by FAR, the best technically, the most patient, flexible, and all around fun dance instructor I have ever encountered. I don't know how we got so lucky. Here's to you, Melissa.

My other addition is all about the clothes. Sadly, there isn't much to say. Saturday night was a vintage dance. Supposed to be. I understand for the most part these are college students with not a lot of cash (see my other post on getting clothes cheap), but vintage attire in my humble opinion, is not a modern cotton dress with leggings and tennis shoes. And I do understand that most vintage clothing is not exactly comfortable. I myself wore a new skirt and blouse, but they were 40's in style. Saying that, there were a couple of awesome exceptions: a cool young man in a full zoot suit (you know who you are, you rocked the hat white dancing), a tattooed betty with a swingin' black skirt and off the shoulder red blouse (woohoo), and an absolutely sweet blonde in a maroon 40's suit and black Mary Janes, flower in her hair. So, I was a bit disappointed, because part of the reason I love dancing is to watch the clothes.

Oh well.

He Says Murder, He Says

Some day I'll write a bit more about Betty Hutton, for now here's a happy tune from someone who doesn't seem to have lived a happy life.

Hawkeye Swing Fest - In Repose

Today you get on I74 West, you set the cruise control, you check the Garmin to make sure you’ve got the right course plotted, and in nearly six hours you’re pulling into Iowa City (barring unforeseen delays like road construction). It’s the marvel of the modern age – the country united through ribbons of asphalt and concrete, you can be anywhere in the US with a car and enough time. The problem is, an interstate highway is a little like a vampire in a blood bank – sooner or later all the color’s drained out of the place.

You may have gathered that the trip to Iowa City was – uneventful. Mile after mile of flat, Indiana farmland giving way to mile after mile of flat Illinois farmland that eventually gave way to mile after mile of (drum roll) flat Iowa farmland. The only difference between the three states is that somehow the farms in Iowa seemed lonelier than the farms in Illinois or Indiana. Either that or I was starting to get the bends from being vacuum sealed in a car for too long. The big break in the – action – was when we crossed the Mississippi River. The Mighty Muddy was living up to its moniker, swollen with floodwaters from the weeks of rain that have plagued the Midwest; the Mississippi was pushing its banks and churning southward toward the Gulf. I wondered if it was an omen, if our adventure would be fraught with trouble and beset with foreboding…then again maybe it was those car bends again.

If you ever have business on The University of Iowa campus let me recommend staying at the downtown Sheraton. There’s something about a hotel that serves cookies – well, at least for me there is. Our room and base of operations was decent, comfortable, and affordable…and did I mention there were cookies in the lobby? We prepped ourselves, changed out of our road-grimed clothing, and hitched a ride with the courtesy van to the IMU, the sight of the Friday night dance.

The IMU second floor ballroom (gee what a romantic name) was decorated in what I can only describe as mid-60’s government drab. Nice hardwood floor surrounded by some of the worse nondescript nothingness I’ve seen since high school. The problem with a venue like this is it isn’t maintained by people who dance – it’s maintained by people who give lectures and hold fund raisers. It’s maintained by Dean Vernon Wormer. After less than an hour the dance floor could be neatly divided into two zones – the too slick to dance half and the too sticky from spilled junk half.

The floor’s condition wasn’t helped much by the band. They were okay but no Tommy Dorsey – a guitar driven, Chocolat-inspired group they had some tempo problems and never did quite burn the place down. Still the evening was fun and I will compliment the crowd on their floor manners. But I shouldn’t make it sound like I didn’t have a good time - there were a lot of good dancers and none of them seemed to think they needed two thirds of the hardwood to do their thing. I’ve been to dances here in Indy with fewer people and a lot more collisions – so kudos to the swingers in Iowa.

Saturday morning came early even though our first class didn’t roll around until after 9 AM. Lindy Fundamentals was just that – the fundamentals. The fundamental thing I learned from this class was that there are a lot of ways to do the Lindy Hop and no one of them is the only ‘right’ way. And that lesson wasn’t in the curriculum. The great thing was that we got two turns from this one session – an outside and an inside turn that complement each other.

The second Saturday session focused on Jitterbug – we’d been looking forward to this class for a long time because we’ve been looking for something different to do with an EC Single Swing and some of the off-tempo EC Triple Swings. From the description given on the Hawkeye Swing website we thought we were going to get a six-count Lindy hop…what we got was the standard EC Triple Swing with less swing in the sidesteps. It was a disappointment – but at least we did learn a fun triple swing trick we’re calling the butt bump.

Lead-Follow technique was revealing – but not mind-blowing. Yes, we learned the importance of stance and frame, we learned about communicating with our partners, what we didn’t learn was anything new. Maybe it’s because we’ve had Lindy lessons for some time or we were a little beyond what was taught in the class. Whatever the case the session was a bit bland in spite of the fun that the instructor tried to ladle on top of the material.

The real wash out for Saturday, though, was the Jazz Solo class. I have to respect the folks who put together a routine – a bunch of coordinated moves and tricks that look super together. Hey, every great Lindy Hop dance combo around did it. See, the problem comes when you spend three quarters of a day talking about how a dance is ‘social’ and meant to be performed with various and different partners – then you try to teach a routine that can only be done by two partners who have spent time together developing and learning the a routine. The theory and the practice aren’t matching up, Jackson. Not only that, if you dance in the places we do there is no room to hotdog on the dance floor. The first time you Susie Q’d across the hardwood you’d wind up needing a tour guide to find your partner again. We walked three-quarters of the way through the session because it was plain pointless.

Saturday’s dance was better than Friday’s. The band was hot and the room was packed. We danced ‘till 11 o’clock and then headed back to our room to recuperate and prepare for another day of lessons and a long ride home.

Sunday morning started with Charleston Basics. It was a good session, really – we had experience with the Charleston kick as a part of the Lindy Hop but never by itself. It was interesting to do the dance that got George Bailey a wife in It’s a Wonderful Life. I’m not sure how many Charlestons we’ll run into but at least now we can do a decent skip up and kick-walk.

The next session was Lindy Hop Moves. The concept was great – the problem for me was the format and that bears mentioning for anyone who’s thinking about traveling to something like the Hawkeye Swing Festival. Group classes are just that – for a group. They don’t cater to different learning speeds and if you miss something you’ve just missed it. We learned the Texas Tommy, the Reverse Swing-Out, and something we’re calling The Cape because I have no idea what the real name is – but it took lassoing the instructor after class to nail some of the details down.

So, all in all I’d rate the Hawkeye a solid ‘B’. We learned a ton – but sometimes it wasn’t a fun process. The whole thing had a bit too much of the rah-rah cheerleader camp atmosphere. Maybe I should get some spirit, maybe I should remember that this dance thing’s for fun, I guess I just don’t need to be told that in a group session…if I did I’d get therapy with Toni Basil.

Count Down to Iowa

Tonight is T-minus two days and counting. Friday, April 11 we’re cutting out for Iowa.

“Iowa?” You ask, “What could possibly be in Iowa but corn?”

Well, in April there’s no corn in Iowa and the politicians are long gone – but there is one reason to visit: The Hawkeye Swing Festival at Iowa State University in Iowa City. It’s a three-day Lindy Hop clinic with four dances and two days of classes on how to improve your hop. We’re on the beginner’s track:

Friday

• Travel from Indy to Iowa City
• Registration
• 9:00 PM to Midnight Dance
  

Saturday

• Lindy Hop Fundamentals
• Jitterbug
• Lead/Follow Techniques
• Solo Jazz Routine
• 9:00 PM to 1:00 AM Dance
  
  

Sunday

• Charleston Basics
• Lindy Hop Moves
• Dips and Tricks
• Putting it all Together
• Back to Indy
  
  

I think this will be our most intense venture to date. Essentially three days of class, dance, and travel – that can eat a fellow up! I’m totally hyped for it though – we’ve got instruction here at home but it’s great to see different styles and to get some extra advice.

The Jonnie Kaye Orchestra

There are some venues you just enjoy returning to. They have a great floor or killer bands or maybe just the sort of atmosphere that elevates your energy level that extra half notch so that you can dance the evening away without ever feeling tired. The Indiana Roof is one of those places for me.

Last night was another in the Roof’s Big Band series – this time the Johnnie Kaye Orchestra provided the musical lubrication for the evening and they were having an on night…well, on for the Johnnie Kaye Orchestra. Johnnie’s group has a couple of quirks – first is their mantra of ‘music till four o’clock’ which wouldn’t be a bad thing if they were actually playing ‘till four in the morning. That’d be one of those throw backs I talk about (at least an imagined throw back), taking you back to a time when big bands occupied the dinner-club and ballroom stage nearly until the sun came up. It’s a journey back to a time of schlepping home with sore feet, a tune in your head, and a smile on your face. Of course when the band keeps promising a 4AM curfew and then they knock off at 9 o’clock PM…well, it can be a bit disappointing.

Secondly there are the band’s short sets. On average they play 4 or 5 numbers and then with a ‘pop goes the weasel inspired musical sting they announce a set break. The funny thing is they don’t leave the stage – instead there’s a tete-a-tete and then the band starts up another session. This sort of thing can break up a guy’s rhythm and it’s a little hard to get a mood going when there are a lot of breaks but still, the band held their own and I’ve got to admit a good time was had by all. Besides, when you're playing 'till 4AM you need a few breaks!

Speaking of having a good time, our dear teachers Mark and Melissa were in their usual top form. I’m hoping that one day I’ll be able to show as much style as they have – I drag my poor wife around the floor a few times with my miserable Fox Trot generally being a menace to all those who dare venture out on the hardwood, in the meantime they’re floating with the greatest of ease. I’m just waiting to see the wires – no couple moves that lightly without help. The point is the lightness though – some couples dance in an affected manner, every move is too aggressive or clumsy or a cry for some kind of psychotherapy – Mark and Melissa make it look a lot easier than it really is and at the same time seem to be having a good time. That’s my goal, to make it look easy and not look like I’m trying to make it look easy.

A Day at the Races

You might have guessed from my previous entries that I’m a little bit of an old movie buff. There’s something more romantic about a movie without color…not that there aren’t romantic color movies; it’s just that something magic comes out when you remove the eye dazzle of Technicolor. Today I got a chance to watch a NetFlix rental, a movie I thought I’d seen before but apparently hadn’t – the Marx Brothers, ‘A Day at the Races’.

The thing that made me realize that I hadn’t watched the movie before was the great dance scene that takes place about two-thirds of the way through it. It’s very concocted (what musical comedy isn’t) and involves some really bad stereotypes, but the scene involves a troupe of dancers that looked really familiar. I did a little checking online and confirmed they are none other than Whitey’s Lindy Hoppers. In fact, A Day at the Races was their first appearance in a major motion picture and they definately refined their style as they gained more experience on camera. The moves these men and women are able to perform are amazing – truly something to aspire to as a fan o f the Lindy Hop. Now if NetFlix only would get their famous movie ‘Hellzapoppin’ I’d be a happy man.

Is it all About History?

I have a fondness for old things. I don’t know, sometimes I think I lived a previous life in the 20’s or 30’s and that it was a particularly good life because some part of me longs for those eras. The way this manifests itself is through a love of old ballrooms and a love of old dances. I’ve spend the last six months learning swing, Lindy Hop, Foxtrot, and Rumba just to get a little closer to the object of my affections. Tonight, though, we’re going to a modern venue – The Atrium in Southport, IN.

According to their website, the Atrium is the sort of place you can dance, have a company Christmas party, a sales meeting, or a bar mitzvah with equal effectiveness. Going in I had my doubts and after the evening was over those doubts more or less held up.

There’s a certain tired utilitarianism about a place that’s rented out for every sort of event. The Atrium looks nice in a fluorescent-lit, tired kind of way. The dance we attended took place in one of the ‘conference rooms’, a space that could be adjoined to the two next door if you had a party of 800 to seat. The dance floor (if you can call it that) was tile – the same sort you might find in a public restroom only slicker.

For those of you who swing, you know that slick isn’t so good. We’ve started to toss the Lindy basic into our EC triple swing and coming around the back half of the circle was murder in suede-soled shoes. On at least two occasions we nearly fell and our timing suffered. Also I’ve come to understand that each venue and each club that holds dances has a different ‘flavor’. The flavor of the group at The Atrium was definitely late 70’s through mid 80’s with lots of hustles and more than enough line dancing. It was a fun evening but it definitely ends up on the lower half of my places to go list.

Suede Soles

That's soles, not souls. I don't know how to suede a soul. If I did that'd be cool. Moohaha. Anyway, I can suede shoes. When I first started dancing I quickly discovered one's regular shoes would not do. They don't slide. And while official dancing shoes are lovely and I do own several pairs, they are expensive.

Another option is taking a regular pair to a cobbler and having them suede a pair you own. Slightly less expensive than dance shoes, but it’s still pricey.

So I looked on line, and lo and behold, a shoe sueding kit. It was 20 bucks for a small bit of suede, glue, and a thingy to trace the shoe. I'm sure you're thinking what I did right about then, I can do that myself. So I did. I bought some suede scraps on eBay for ten dollars, about enough to do 100 pairs of shoes. Well, maybe not that many, but a bunch. Two bucks for some leather glue at craft store. And that folks, is all you need.

Here's what you do. Trace the ball of one shoe on the suede. Don't need to do the heel, unless you spin on the back of your foot, which I've never seen anyone do.

Cut it out. Write 'glue' or 'howdy there' or whatever on the side you cut so you won't put it on backwards (oh yes, been there, done that).

If the shoes are already sueded (you can re-suede worn suede soles) or leather you don't have to do anything to the bottoms. If the bottom is rubber, take a knife and score the sole - glue will stick better that way.

OK, so now put glue on the cut out suede (the side you wrote ‘glue’ on). This next part is important, don't put the glue on the shoe, it won't work as well. Get the glue on every bit of the suede, be generous, but don't glob. Now wait. This is important too. Let the glue get tacky (about 5 minutes or so).

NOW put it on the shoe. Aim well; you can adjust, but not much. Press it hard on a surface that you have covered with a towel you don't want. Run another towel you hate along the edge of the shoe to pick up glue ooze.

Let sit for a couple of days and check the sides. If a bit lifts up, take a q-tip and put a little bit more on, and let sit again. Do the same for the other shoe.

Voila.

I've done this on a bunch of shoes and danced the heck out of them and they stick just fine. And, you can get a second life out of fancy dance shoes. The bottoms don't look as nice after that, but who would see, unless you fall on your butt? And if you do that you won't care about your shoes anyway.