I love fancy places to dance like the Indianapolis Roof. I love dancing at our club events. But there’s a whiff of artificialness to them, because most attendees “know” how to dance.
That isn’t the way it used to be. People grew up dancing; mom taught her son a few steps, girls got together and practiced the latest craze, and couples danced the night away at supper clubs. At a formal dance, some were better than others, but most everyone knew enough to get up and swing or sway.
Thankfully, those hallowed halls of yesterday are not all lost. Gary and I traveled back in time last Saturday evening to Raleigh, Indiana. We attended a dance in their Community Club, a place that has held a Saturday night dance since…1944. The place isn’t fancy from the outside, a long, low warehouse looking building and a simple sign that you’d miss if you didn’t know exactly where it was.
I felt like Dorothy going from black and white to color when I stepped inside: a fat holiday tree sat on one side, a plastic lighted crèche at the front. Vintage records, strings of lights, and old fashioned tinsel criss-crossed the ceiling. A mass of holly hung from the disco ball. And if you think there’s going to be a “but” you’d be wrong…the wood floor was immaculate and the band was good…surprisingly so for such a small town.
Best of all the people were friendly and understandably proud of their club. Dancing ability ran the gambit, but all were having fun. No one judged anyone else. I wish it wasn’t so far away, but we’ll be back.
This past weekend turned out to be one of extremes. We danced at two different venues to two different bands and I left both events with somewhat mixed feelings.
Saturday we went to see The Original Salty Dogs, a Purdue University spawned Dixieland Jazz Band, at the Robin Run Retirement Village. Now, when I heard about the venue I had suspicions about our ability to actually dance but it turned out okay. We were in a basement-level activity room with linoleum floors and an actual stage. The turnout was less than fifty people, all spread around various tables and unanimously there for the music. About three songs into the set the band scrubbed off a danceable tune and Kelly and I did our WCS.
Now, let me say that I don't object to being watched while I dance. Some people feel really self-conscious when they feel that they're being observed but I'm not one of those people. I figure that I'm there to have fun and though it's nice to be admired, I really could give a flying hoot whether onlookers think I'm a great dancer or a freak (in fact there are times I kind of like the freak designation). I hadn't prepared myself for becoming a commented part of the afternoon's entertainment. The song came to an end and then the leader of the band made a point of thanking 'Fred and Ginger' for their dancing. That was fine, I mean we were the only ones dancing and we were bound to be noticed not only by the audience but also by the band. I'm okay with being in the spotlight a little bit…but then the band leader proceeded to bring the subject up every time we danced. End result, I think we danced four numbers over the afternoon's time. We did, however, get many compliments which salves being made the center of attention. The question that sticks with me, though, is whether we were being called out because we were good dancers or if the guy figured we were stealing his limelight? I guess I'll never know and it really doesn't matter, in the end we had a good time.
Sunday we headed to the Indiana Roof Ballroom for the last dance of the 2010 Big Band Series and effectively the end of the Roof's 2010 dance season. I always wondered why the Roof doesn't have a December holiday dance. They've got the perfect space for it - large and grand, the kind of place that decorates beautifully. I suppose they rent their space out to various companies for holiday functions, I don't know.
Sunday the Russ Morgan Orchestra played the Roof. They're a really good band even if they have a gap in their tempo. The Orchestra tends to play fast swings, rumbas, and cha cha's and then kind of draggy foxtrots and waltzes. The end result was that we spent a lot of time plying our newly learned vintage foxtrot which also means I spent a lot of time feeling very awkward. I can say that I'm proud of our getting out on the floor and dancing a style we're not as comfortable performing. We did the basic step a whole lot but we maneuvered around and even avoided some of the senior-clots that tend to form around the edges of the floor.
The downside of Sunday in fact was the crowd and the way that the Roof managed the dance. Due to this being the last dance of the 2010 series it was busy and we wound up sitting at a different table than usual. This isn't a problem; I mean we were still on the floor which makes things easier when you dance a lot. Unfortunately, the luck of the draw put us with a less than pleasant couple as neighbors. Not only did they proselytize for helping them get enough buyers to bring the Guy Lombardo Orchestra to their event in Cincinnati by selling tickets at our clubs, they seemed incensed when we told them that the bylaws of our clubs forbid selling anything including tickets. Afterward they both implied we were immature while the female half, alternately, flashed her 50th anniversary ring remarking repeatedly on its carat weight. There seems to be a pervading trend toward rudeness in the ballroom community recently. I hate to be that guy who complains that people no longer have manners but I guess I am and I should own it.
Another unfortunate trend is that the Roof has (seemingly) started selling general admission tickets and adding tables to accommodate the overflow on the fly. This results in a more crowded dance floor which means less quality dancing. I'm all for the Roof making money - that will keep the facility in top shape and allow booking better bands. However, this is a dance and when profit outweighs the dancing experience that the patrons have, then you've started a downward spiral. Also the tables that are being added aren't on the promenade, they're on the floor. This creates two rows of tables in some spots and in others, one row…so while you travel around the dance floor you encounter traffic jams and eddies of people trying to flow around the obstacles that the staff randomly place throughout the evening. Poor form, Roof - I hope you'll reconsider in 2011.
Unfortunate news for the Casa Loma, St. Louis was just rated as the 'Most Dangerous City in the US' by an NBC pole. Possibly a confirmation of this pole was part of our Halloween stay that I neglected to mention in my previous blog posting. On arrival we found that we'd left a couple of items at home and wanted to find a drug store where we could pick them up. We walked down to the desk and asked the clerk on duty if there was a drug store in walking distance. She told us that she wouldn't recommend walking anywhere in the vicinity of the hotel due to the danger of doing so. Something to be aware of if you choose the Casa Loma as a dance location.
I want to start this post with a disclaimer in the form of defining the very specific audience that I'm addressing. This post is not directed at those of you who are without a partner and who've entered dancing as a means of socializing and meeting people. It isn't aimed at singles for whom dance is a part of the romance of chance encounters. It isn't meant as an edict to people who enjoy changing partners throughout the course of an evening's dancing. Dance is about having fun and expressing yourself, and if changing up partners helps you do that then more power to you. Go out, swap often, and have a blast. Joy is joy and you should take it wherever you can get it.
It is directed at the small, vocal, minority that seems to believe there is only one right way to dance and that way is to constantly and frequently change partners. It is written on behalf of those of us who have a beloved partner; a partner whom no other can come close to equaling. It speaks for those of us who have a partner to whom we're committed. Frankly, this post is meant to reclaim the right of those I've describe to have an opinion which counts just as much as that belonging to the loud louts and self-proclaimed arbiters of 'good dance'.
A scourge has crept into the ballrooms and dancehalls of America. It's a sinister, undercurrent; a poisonous element that threatens the ability of many to enjoy the wondrous thing that is dancing. Worst of all, unlike many ills of today's society, this blight is not only acknowledged by many otherwise right-thinking dance enthusiasts - it is openly embraced and promulgated as the one and only right way to become a 'good' dancer. This stain on the dance community is openly promoted on websites, by instructors at dance studios, and through local dance clubs around the country. I speak of the baseless assertion you cannot be a 'good' dancer unless you change partners, doing your level best to rotate through every Tom, Dick, and Hildegard in the ballroom within the span of the night. I write to say the fanatic belief that dancing with as many different people as possible improves your dancing is not only based on false assumptions but that it amounts to (in my not-so-humble opinion) no less than an outright assault on a dancer's right to enjoy dance in their own way.
There is a basic assumption that troubles me. That assumption is that the reason you're dancing is to dance with many people. This assumption is what prompted my choice of titles for this blog post. The adage "Dance with the one that brung ya" has been co-opted by everything from sports to politics but when applied to the area from which it originated, its meaning is simple and clear. You should be committed and loyal to the person who brought you to the party. Literally, you should dance with them instead of flitting about with partners that seem momentarily more intriguing, know a few cunning dance tricks, or are brash enough to cut in on someone else's evening out. What part of being taken out for an evening of dancing necessitates being farmed out as some kind of dime-a-dance rental? What part of being true to the one you're with implies rudeness?
Truthfully, the practice of partner-changing regardless of arriving with a partner is an artifact of what I call Dance World - it's like Water World, drier but no less artificial. In the wild, you'd never go to a nightclub and pick the attractive young brunette who's with the burly football player, then go ask her to dance. Pardon my crudeness but you'd wind up wearing your ass for a hat. However, in a ballroom setting it's supposed to be 'normal' and refusing to accept this suspension of reality supposedly is a breach of etiquette or, worse, a comment on your lacking skills as a dancer.
You might think that last sentence is hyperbole. It sounds like a gross exaggeration, after all how could you being willing or unwilling to dance with people you don't really know be conflated with the inability to dance with anyone? Well, many clubs openly promote the idea that sticking with your partner is both a manners and a marker of ineptitude. I've clipped a few examples from the web and, in deference to their sense of superiority; I've decided to let them own their stupidity:
"By the third week, I had two groups. Twenty non-coupled people rotated in a circle on one side of the room while ten couples stayed at the other end preferring not to switch. The morale was pathetic.
The absolute nadir occurred when several ladies of the non-switching couples began to ask me to give special attention to their partners. It seems their husband's leads and footwork were weak. Since all individual help occurs naturally as my assistant and I rotate through the Circle, none of the non-switchers were being helped with their leads.
Quite frankly, no one finished that course in a very good frame of mind. I was so disgusted I vowed that even if I had to ask people to leave the class and refund tuition, I would do so rather than have people refuse to switch. Most people do not mind "sharing", but if even one couple doesn't switch, then the selfish side of human nature is tempted to appear.
I concluded that for Group Classes to work, switching is necessary." - Houston SSQQ
Rather than blame the few people who didn't wish to rotate partners, an accusation that seems to be a bit premature, why not consider some other possibilities. Twenty couples in a class is a lot. Think about it, that's forty people all learning something that's both physical and (I can only assume) totally new to them. This sets up, in the very least, a less than ideal learning environment. We can add to this the instructor's attitude regarding dedicated partners is apparent from the onset. It's very possible that it was just as apparent during the class sessions and that was the reason 'no one' finished the class in a 'very good frame of mind'. I also can't help but notice that the teacher specifically stated they didn't help those who didn't wish to change partners - if you ignore students, can you really be surprised when they don't perform as well? It seems a bit rich to chalk this up to the 'selfishness of human nature' unless we're speaking of the selfishness of an instructor who cannot bear the thought someone else's approach might be as valid as theirs. I'm also interested in the diagnosis that not wishing to trade partners while learning the basics of a dance is somehow a sign of the 'selfish side of human nature'. It seems like an interesting definition of selfishness, wanting to practice with the people you're going to be dancing with. Maybe it's a new definition that isn't in the dictionary. Frankly, it seems more selfish to hold onto a cherished opinion without regard for the feelings or points of view of others than it does to wish to learn with the partner you'll eventually dance with.
"Dancing one-out-of-three or one-out-of-four partner changes with your romantic partner is a decent ratio for couples who want to spend more time dancing with each other during class and still actually become good dancers." - Art of Dance
The recommended ratio seems interesting and I'm not sure if the author means dance one dance with your romantic partner to three or four with others or one dance with others and then the remaining three or four with your romantic partner. Assuming the former, lets do the math. Kelly and I are into fast dances - swings, rockabilly, and fast Latin dances. We're not the fittest of the fit but we're not wheezing octogenarians either, so we dance between 13 and 20 numbers in a night. So, let's divide that number by four for the worst case one out of four dances mentioned in the clipping. That means our romance amounts to 3 to 5 dances a night. Really, three dances with the woman I love is good? You're more accepting than I am. If we go with the latter case, the assumption is dancing 3 to 5 dances with someone else is actually sufficient to impact my dance skill? Really? Even accross the eight styles of dance I do (including two that nobody else does)? What if I dance with 3 to 5 bad dancers? Does that downgrade my ability? I'd like to see that assertion quantified. I also like the phrase 'actually become good dancers', it gives a window into the thinking that you can't possibly be a good dancer unless you hardly dance together. Somehow your unfamiliarity with your partner makes you better! Where else is that true? Only in Dance World.
"I don't care if you don't change partners, if YOU don't care if you don't learn to dance." - DPS
This has to be my favorite because it's so unilateral in its authority. The only way you can ever learn to dance is to switch partners and if you don't, you can't dance. I respond in video form:
Tap dancers really need DPS. They don't understand that they can't dance because they don't change partners. It's obvious this is an example of horrid dancing. I don't understand why they try.
What an awful dancers 'Snake Hips' was. If he'd only had DPS' partner changing plan maybe the lack of skill shown in this clip could have been remedied.
Oh what a wreck! If DPS had choreographed Swan Lake and been able to make sure there was partner dancing and that the dancers switched partners, the ballet might have been something that would have stood the test of time!
Finally, according to the geniuses at DPS this has to be the worst dancer of all times. If Michael Jackson would have only obeyed their edicts he might have been renown for his dance skills. Too bad.
I find it ironic that DPS offers to teach wedding dancing…isn't that the art of dancing (sometimes just a single dance) with one person? Doesn't that violate the stone-hard rule that if you don't partner swap you can't dance? Maybe getting paid changes the rules. Hmm…oh well, I guess it must be tough to live by such prejudiced rules.
The final unraveling of the bias against commitment to a single partner can be taken from the worlds of sports as well as dance. The most lauded and admired denizens of both these realms are the professionals who make their living through their performances. They are consummate perfectionists, relying on executing flawlessly every time they undertake their profession. To obtain this level of perfection they don't swap partners. A quarterback doesn't change centers every other snap just so he can 'get used to how other people snap the ball'. The manager of a baseball team doesn't swap pitchers unless they're failing in striking out batters. Fred Astaire wasn't famous for dancing with lots of partners; he was famous for dancing with Ginger Rogers. When you watch the International Ballroom Competition, there isn't a judging category for dancing with multiple partners.
In short, assertions that the only way you can be a 'good' dancer (or, alternately, that you can dance at all) is by switching partners as often as possible isn't even supported by examples from Dance World. In fact there is no quantitative evidence there is any improvement in dance through partner swapping. The propriety of swapping partners is an opinion and like all opinions it isn't necessarily shared by everyone. To those of you who believe not swapping partners is rude I'd ask you to look at your own behavior - is interrupting someone else's enjoyment of an evening out with their loved one rude? Is it rude to make assumptions about their aptitude based on your opinions? Is it rude to insult and defame those people who don't swap partners because they don't conform to what you'd like to happen? To those of you who believe anyone who doesn't swap partners isn't a good dancer I'd ask how you became the sole judge of dance quality.
Everyone is allowed an opinion. Sure, you can disagree - frankly it'd be nice if you did so privately. Your opinion is no better (or worse) than anyone else's. Your interpretation of what makes a good dancer isn't the limit and yardstick. Dance is about having fun and if that couple who share every dance together are having fun they're getting what dance is all about. If the couple who swaps partners ever dance is having fun, they're getting what dance is about. The two aren't mutually exclusive.
Back when dancing musicals were big money makers for the Hollywood film industry, oh say in the 1930’s, there was a brief fad for creating dance-song pairings. Maybe it was a reaction to the crushing effects of the depression – escapism as the remedy to financial ruin and an increasingly ugly political landscape. I don’t know, without having lived through the depression I don’t think I’m in a position to pass judgment either. All I can say is that the fad existed and out of it sprang a handful of dances that were temporarily popular but ill equipped for social dancing. They surged into the ballrooms of the mid-twentieth century and just as quickly ebbed into obscurity leaving only a few standardized patterns to be co-opted by American Ballroom Dance along with the films from which they sprang as evidence of their existence.
Once such dance is the Continental, described in all the eloquent obscurity typical to describing dances of this era by Streetswing.com as follows:
“The dance starts like a stately Minuet, where the man approaches the woman and bows and kisses her hand while doing the one step towards each other. As they come together, the Follower rest her head on the Leads shoulder and do a brief circular Foxtrot, while doing this the Lady lifts her head every other measure and gazes caringly at her partner...”
But I haven’t come to praise or bury the Continental; I’ve come to say that we attended a gathering of the Continental Dance Club last night.
There are some really nice things about the Continental Club. They dance every Sunday at the same time and in the same place. That means no searching for an obscure ballroom or adjusting to a new dance floor that may or may not be to our liking. Secondly, they dance at the Starlight Ballroom which is mere minutes from our doorstep – a real bonus for a dancing on a Sunday night when I really want everything to be very easy. And, most important of all for us as dancers, they focus on a different sort of dancing than we normally do: waltz, foxtrot, and rumba.
Though I’m all for dancing the dances you love I'm also aware that as a dancer you've got to stretch yourself. If you learned to dance the rumba, you've got to dance it to maintain your skills - even if it isn't your very favorite dance. Kelly and I are swing dancers. We enjoy bouncy, fast paced tunes that get the blood flowing and the heart beating. Though we're quickly falling in love with the vintage foxtrot, we're still in that awkward stage - a sort of clumsy dance adolescence that only time and practice can cure. So, the slower pace and wide-open dance floor of the Continentals is well suited to our needs.
So, for the foreseeable future we'll be dancing to the tune of a one-man band playing old dancehall standards on a synth and navigating a crowd easily twice our age. You dance the number played for you, I guess.
Gary and I had another lesson of vintage dancing with Rosie; we did some more on the foxtrot and started a new dance called the cross step waltz. It is based on a very old form of waltz, but Richard Powers has added his own style to it; he blends in swing and latin moves. It sounds crazy, but it works beautifully.
We love it. Here is a video of Richard dancing with his partner Angela Amarillas.
Ah, November! I love this month. That feeling that kids have waiting for Santa, well I get that same feeling waiting for Thanksgiving. Turkey, mashed potatoes, rolls, dressing, and a thousand other forbidden treats are laid out on the groaning board and the TV's tuned to a football game. Ah tryptophan, God of The Feast and Shepherd of Sluggishness! What does this have to do with dancing? Well, nothing really…I just wanted to revel in the anticipation of the feast to come.
Yesterday Indy Dancers had their annual T-day party. There's something familiar about the environment of the Moose Club and the folding tables loaded up with mismatched dishes filled with homemade goodies. My Thanksgivings never were of the Martha Stewart variety. Mom didn't make soufflé or construct miniature pilgrim scenes from construction paper and pine boughs. There was cigarette smoke and cards and a lot of really good, blue-collar food and everyone, more or less, was happy for it. Of course the big difference between the family T-day celebration and the Indy Dancers event was that at eight o'clock the DJ threw on an up-tempo swing tune and everyone was expected to get out on the floor.
Let me say there is no worse combination than mashed potatoes with gravy and swing dancing. Marathon runners don't chow down before they start the race and there's a really good reason for that! It plays merry hell with your ability to perform. The triple-swing becomes the trypto-swing and that's not a good thing. Some people naturally waddle around the dance floor at half the tempo of the music, they don't need an added excuse. Last night I saw things being done to the WCS that have to be a crime in every dance-minded state in the union. I shudder to remember it.
Still, the evening was great fun and the food was excellent. We had a great time as always. When I sit down to the turkey dinner with my family I'll have one more thing to be thankful for. I'm thankful for the time I had with the Brickyard Boogie Dancers and for still having the Indy Dancers to provide opportunities to get out and dance. I'm thankful that I've had the opportunity to travel to so many great old venues and to hear some really good music in those hallowed halls. I'm thankful for the people who've taught me how to dance from Melissa to Shayne to Rosie and right down to all those who held dance clinics here and there along the road. I'm thankful that I found the courage to take this dance ride with all its highs and lows. But most of all I'm thankful I've been fortunate enough to have such a lovely and talented partner to share the trip with. With blessings like these a fellow's bound to start to feel like the proverbial golden boy!
They say that as you get older time gets away from you. Summer blends into fall and winter runs into spring and the year gets away from you before you've got the hang of it. I'd like to blame my lack of activity on the whirling calendar but that'd be disingenuous. There are tons of excuses for why I'm only just getting to writing about Halloween with November ripening into December, but I won't bore you with them. Instead, I'll focus on rectifying the situation.
As you know, we did the traditional Halloween Ball at St. Louis' Casa Loma Ballroom and it lived up to the raucous reputation it earned with us the first year we attended. There was rock and roll, there was drink, there were transvestites, and a good time was had by all including my in-laws. You've got to give it to a pair of octogenarians who are willing to brave East St. Louis on All Hallows Eve in a neighborhood like the one that the Casa Loma has matured into. They got out on the dance floor and shanked out a few WCS's before getting beaten back by the drunken revelers. I hope I'm doing the same at eighty but my inner crotchety old man tells me I'm more likely to be sitting with the wallflowers shaking my cane at the 'young hooligans' on the dance floor.
In spite of having a good time I believe we've decided to sample the Halloween revels at another venue in 2011. The Loma is a fantastic venue and it has an unparalleled pedigree but two years of ear-splittingly loud bands and beer-baptisms have taken their toll on our desire to dance there. This year the crowd was decidedly bawdier (one partier showed up dressed as a penis) and though it might be in my head there also seemed to be a lot more drunken foolery. I'm all for getting tight on occasion but when those getting wasted are also trying to dance, well…
So, in 2011 we're weighing our options. Maybe we'll decide on the Wilmington Ballroom outside Chicago with its haunted highway - remember all those stories about the lady in white hitching a ride by Resurrection Cemetery? Well, they originate from the Wilmington area, perfect for Halloween don't you think?
Kabuki is highly stylized, traditional Japanese theatre; clothing and makeup are chosen to express a particular character. I just finished writing a book that has Japanese overtones, so that’s probably why Kabuki images have been flitting through my mind lately.
I also had an interesting comment on my dancing. A friend of mine recently saw us dance. You guys are great, she said, but you were, um, different. Different how, say I. She paused. You were flirty. I laughed and said yeah, that’s my dancing persona.
I still think she was weirded out.
I thought about that for awhile. This friend and I know each other very well. But she was surprised. I can see why. I’m rather shy in real life. And even if I wasn’t, flirty just causes too much trouble. And then there’s the fact that in real life I don’t do it too well. Once before I was married I tried winking at a guy. He came over and asked if something was in my eye. No joke.
So anyway, I do laugh a lot, but I can be serious. Definitely not flirty. But it is a side of me. Leonard Nimoy, of Star Trek fame, has done a wonderful set of photos called the secret self that my sister Quinn turned me on to. In them he attempted, with great success, to demonstrate that part of you no one sees, but is very much alive.
When I’m dancing, I can express my flirty side in a safe and non-judgemental environment. Like Kabuki, I choose my clothing and makeup to enhance that secret side. It’s very freeing. And a whole lot of fun.
Gary loves it. I'm glad. But I don’t do it for him.
Here we are, Major Nelson and Jeanie sans the blonde wig. I knew it would fly off when dancing, so I opted for her dark evil twin. With short hair. :-)
Happy sigh. The happy because I love Halloween so much, the sigh because it’s over. Gary and I, along with my mom and dad, had a wonderful time at the Halloween Ball at the historic Casa Loma Ballroom in St. Louis.
The floor was crammed with the usual gambit of costumes from the sublime (a beautiful mermaid), to the funny (Tiger and several, um, blonde ladies), to the downright risqué (a giant male atomically correct part), to the creative (a group of bloody cooks from hell’s kitchen.)
The Band, Smash, was good, but waaaaaaaay too loud. I like loud. But when you shout and STILL can’t make yourself heard or hear anyone else, that’s too much volume. I don’t get it. The piped in music played during breaks was plenty loud enough to cover the partying, but as soon as the band started to play, the dial, as Nigel would say, was cranked to 11.
It was more crowded this year. And while I am perfectly OK with sharing the floor with non-dancers and various examples of individual expression, I am NOT OK with being slammed, stepped on, or shoved. People didn’t do this on purpose (many had been drinking…a lot), but still. Gary and I come to dance, so perhaps it’s time to sample something else.
Right now we have our eye on the Willowbrook ballroom near Chicago. We’ve heard tell they put on quite a Halloween bash….
Welcome to the record of Kelly and Gary's experiences in the world of dancing. Here we provide our observations about dance and dancing. In our blog you'll find information about dancing in the Midwest - especially swing, lindy hop, and Latin dancing.
