Archive for Social dancing

Convincing a non-dancing partner

It’s great that we don’t need a regular partner to learn dance with and the people in class are awesome, but sometimes its just nice to have that special someone with you. Especially for the close and quiet stuff like blues. Cue guilt-trip in Loz’s direction!

I conned him into a blues class once. Showed him some videos on YouTube, played lots of blues music on the stereo until he finally warmed to it and agreed to attend one class with me. In my hasty excitement, I even bought him a dance class discount card but Oh NO, the folly!

That one class we did was a mistake on so many levels. The guest teachers spent more time talking about blues than teaching it, so it didn’t appeal to his short attention span. It was a full hour of learning to sway and pulse from side to side in one spot. Not even the chance to hold so many lovely lasses was enough to turn him into a repeat customer.

So I shall have to dance on without the pleasure of the Mr’s company. There’s not much I can do to convince him. He thinks Lindy and Charleston are daggy, balboa is boring, ballroom is too stuffy, salsa’s beyond his hip rotation abilities and hip hop’s for wankers. Blues has JUST enough introverted coolness and this-is-me-and-my-woman machismo to look like he’s not trying too hard.

Plus I try not to push  him. Leisure is meant to be just that, not a pressure or a chore. He knows how important it is to me and how delighted I am when he comes along (I wonder what gives that away, the manic squealing, perhaps?) but it’d be pretty unfair to inspire any guilt. Guilt-trips are so easy to lapse in to, learned that only too well from my family, heh.

If only he’d come along last night, anyway.  It must be about 2 months since I last did blues and I remember why I love it so much. The world disappeared for a good 2 hours in a series of mini-conversations with each new partner. And we did a lot more than just bob from side to side like manic semi-lit penguins.

I also forget how tiring it gets as well, mentally taxing. I concentrate more during blues than other dances and invest a lot more of myself than I realise, emotionally. I come out of a blues night feeling lost, yet found. The real world around me is suspended in agar jelly while my thoughts roll on to a quiet 12-bar murmur.

On a side note, I’d love to go to Adelaide for Church City Blues next month, but it won’t fit into the budget, I don’t think. Maybe next year.

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Off-the-floor craft

I’m not the most decisive of people and am notorious for turning up to events just in time for the second encore. So it’s only fitting, in the swing setting, that I only JUST cottoned on to the Danish Club at its LAST gig ever as a public venue in Middle Park. It’s being turned into another beachside McMansion. Go figure.

The Club has been a social epicentre for the Danish community since 1938 and is known as a great venue for devoted jazz enthusiasts. Bands like the Pearly Shells Swing Orchestra have performed there for forever, drawing a regular set of jazz lovers and swing dancers.

So when I attended the Sunday farewell, with the Pearlies at the helm, I felt like a privileged witness to Melbourne jazz history.

It was pretty obvious that most of the dancers had been gathering here and at other venues for years, moving fluidly as they did, chatting, laughing at in-jokes from the band. They packed the dancefloor, with many more perched on barstools around the perimeter of the dining room.

It’s interesting noting the differences between a Swing Patrol gig and something like this.

For one thing, a lot of the SP crowd are babies in the business of swing dancing and live jazz; there are lots of newer dancers at level 2 or so giving it a good go. This translates into social dancing with a purpose. While they’re doing it because they enjoy it, the dancing also has an after-school revision session feel to it. Almost as though the dancefloor’s an examination venue and they feel the pressure to perform.

Not to say that they don’t enjoy the music and the dancing for the sake of it, but concentration appears to be everywhere but on their music and their partner… “What’s the next move, goddamnit, what’s the next move?”

The folk at the Club looked as though it was by-now second nature. Music and socialising first, worrying about getting the steps right second. By the same token, a lot of them DID have their serious ‘game face’ on, the sort you see in ballroom dancing.

And because the crowd at the Club were more established, there were a lot there as exclusive couples. Well, perhaps not so exclusive, but there’s an extra layer of protocol to observe. As one person noted (Jan), as a female follow approaching a male lead, you have to make sure that you ask their partner first for permission before continuing on. It’s basic courtesy in that setting, obviously.

Which brings me to another point of difference with SP. Because everyone attends an SP social with the purpose of learning and polishing skills, the opportunity to dance with as many different partners as possible comes first before that sort of decorum. Or at least there’s a less formal element to it. You don’t have to be as guarded when requesting a dance.

In an extreme example of partner possessiveness on Sunday, I bumped into a familiar face on the dancefloor and started chatting with him. He was standing on the edge of the dancefloor with a partner that he’d just danced with for four songs straight.

I had no intention of asking him for a dance as I was merely on my way for a breather out on the porch. But he seized on the chance, while his dance partner was there next to him, to ask if I wanted the next dance.

I thought that seemed a bit eager, not asking her first, so I turned to her with an unsure look and made to say, “Only if the both of you aren’t dancing to the next song. I’m quite happy to do the one after…”

And by golly she blew it right there and then.

She gave me a piercing glare and hissed, “Fine then, if that’s the way it is!” and off she stormed back to the tables, casting me another look or two, sneering to her friends.

He registered my shock but shrugged, “Ah, that’s ok, it’s fine, she’s been like that all night if I dance with any other women, any other friends.”

“Is she your partner-partner, not just your dance partner?”

“No, not at all! God forbid. She’s just weird, crazy, she acts like I’m hers.”

I watched over his shoulder as she tottered out the door in a red wiggle dress with a sweetheart neckline, swearing about how rude people could be.

I’d already done what I could to buffer the situation, so I can only assume that he’d been doing that to her all evening. Even if I was with someone on the dancefloor, I’d ask my current lead first if it was ok to take a break from each other and dance with someone else. If you’re still standing on the dancefloor, watching the band, the connection hasn’t been broken yet and it needs to be gently negotiated.

So yes, I don’t blame her for reacting the way she did. There must have been a lot brewing.

But if it was any consolation to her, I had my most embarassing dance of the night with that lead. I should have left it at that and walked away, but no. He grabbed my hand and led me straight into a spin, did all these double-arm ceroc moves that got me tangled, ending with an unexpected dip by the neck.

So unexpected, in fact, that I landed straight on my bum, in front of an amused table of six.

“You need a strong neck for that one,” he shrugged later.

Another lead who witnessed it told me that he shouldn’t have led that me into that dip, that it was a performance move and possibly very very inappropriate on a casual social floor.

Oh the dramas. And I thought ‘Dirty Dancing’ or ‘Take the Lead’ were works of fiction!

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A quick vintage fashion jaunt

Melbourne has so many wonderful vintage and vintage-inspired clothing shops around that I’d have to organise a week-long tour to see all of them. Including coffee, chocolate and pastry breaks, of course. Or coffee-chocolate pastry even!

I initially planned to shop alone, but it’s more fun with the company and opinion of equally-discerning folk. So I’ve invited a bunch of swing bananas from the Camberwell class for a quick jaunt through the CBD and in Collingwood.

Melbourne CBD
Retrostar
Quick Brown Fox
Leghorn Rouge
Kinki Gerlinki
Route66
Anton’s
Anonymous Posh
Out of the Closet
Shag
A little shop off Little Collins that I know by sight, but not name. Yeah, gee, that helps eh :)

Collingwood
All of Smith St. So many new shops have popped up in the past year.

Fitzroy
Circa on Gertrude St

Then maybe to watch VIRUS play at The Laundry in Fitzroy.

And dinner…

And then to watch Bop Deluxe at Manchester Lane.
Just been given the heads up on The Shuffle Club at Transit Lounge, Federation Square. 10pm.

Pushing it, no?

A report will be available after the weekend.

In the meantime, Rody and I are going to explore the rock and roll landscape on the West side of Melbourne, in Sunshine. I’ve already packed the ugg boots!

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Boogietime at the Lindy Lab — bring notepads and kneepads

I really need a class notepad. Can hardly remember what we did last night. It’s even worse as a follow in a class with good leads; the brain can’t help but switch off and go into lindy auto-pilot.

Level 2
  1. Starting with 6-beat triple steps, tuck-turn, catch follow by the arm, back in to a 8-beat swingout. Extra spin on the end for either follow or lead.
  2. Little time-filler impro variations for the guys and girls, applejacks and fishtails.
  3. Barrel rolls.. at least that’s what I know them as. Start in open, lead brings follow’s arm and shoulder down towards him as he steps away, creating space for follow to come in. Lead raises arm over head to allow follow to turn against his back, both facing away from each other, completes it, end in open.
Level 2 afterthoughts
  • I thought adding the extra spin or 2 was always a lead-initiated move. Looks like I have a new thing to play with!
  • Don’t know if its me or if leads keep raising my arm too high above my head in the barrel rolls; i feel as though I’m about to take off, keep having to do this one on tippy toes.
Level 3
  1. ‘Shouts’ — Swingout into open and into side-by side, rocking back and forth on heel then ball of foot, arms swinging free. Little variations in between such as little frog jumps and and follow or lead-led spins as the arms swing back.
  2. Texas Tommy with a bit of a pop at the end in crosshand, pull follow back in for a hop-skip-jump back and a little frog-jump at the end of desired.
  3. Side-by-side charleston, variations such as a little hip bump and lead slipping right leg behind follows left for a bit of a lift on 5.
Level 3 afterthoughts
  • Kneepads. Want. When one of leads tried to lead me on a spin during the Shouts, I was caught completely off guard and face-planted. Well. Who needs a sense of balance then?
  • Apparently need to keep my arms more relaxed if initiating the spin. Another lead suggested that I follow my body instead of paying attention to where the arm’s swinging, which makes sense. Focusing on my arms made it a weapon instead.
  • I’m still anticipating anything that involves air-time and placing a little weight on the lead. None of me is convinced that I can rely on my lead to take any of my weight, therefore I either don’t commit to the move or anticipate it. My own cross to bear.
  • Doing fast lindy: never done it in my life and it totally bamboozles me. I know the leads need to make footwork adjustments for quicker lindy, but does the follow’s footwork change much? I asked Matt after class and he confirmed this, reckons that follows need to maintain their swivels. Both will take smaller steps and the lead may bring the follow closer in. I remember one lead’s hold on my back getting closer and tighter. Steph confirmed similar. Hmm. Must investigate. And practise.
  • This is the first Level 3 class I’ve done since the last one which left me licking my wounds. I know that classes are meant to be where you bear your vulnerabilities and learn, but by the same token, one of the prerequisites of this class is a level of social dance understanding that I hadn’t achieved at that point. And after tonight, I think I’m a few steps closer now.
Social dancing
  • Managed, for the first time, to spin on one foot in a turn. Progress! Now for multiples!
  • Almost successfully followed ochos, but by sight rather than feel. Frame, darling, frame, maintain it.

Tonight we’re having a lab session at Helen’s, a chance away from classes and the social floor to nut out what we’ve learnt as well as to experiment and improvise. No doubt aided by beer and chips.

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The joy of blues

I’d like to credit Blues dance for strengthening my general swing skills more than any number of weekly classes ever will.

But perhaps it was really the workshop environment that I should thank, virtual hothouse that it was. Hothouse in a literal sense too, so we all discovered during Blues Before Sunrise over the Queen’s Birthday weekend, all covered in sticky films of exertion. Mmm, sticky films of exertion.

I wore something thick and longer-sleeved on the first day, thinking, “It’s cold, and yeah, blues, it’s all slow-moving, easy stuff. No effort required.”

But by the end of it, I’d focussed so hard on my core and every nuance of movement that I soon trickled to the floor in my own puddle of exertive film.

4.30 pm found both Penny and I crumpled on the ballroom floor at Forever Dance, gawking at each other like two exhausted camels, tongues hanging out, ready to go home for a hosing-down and a bag of feed. And, in my case, quite prepared to take the rest of class in my nudie rudies.

It was, after all, 12 hours of workshops; virtually 8 to 12 weeks of classes condensed into 2 days. Not to mention the 24 hours of social dancing every night, between Friday and Monday, for those who wanted a virtual petri dish to test their new knowledge in.

I’d therefore have reason to worry if I didn’t notice some semblance of improvement in my dancing. Which I did. As did friends who I danced with afterwards.

Some things I took away from the weekend:

  • You can dance the same move with 10 different leads, and every one of them has his or her own way of executing it.
  • Likewise, you can lead the same move on 10 different follows, and each brings its own results.
  • Maintain control of core, and almost everything else will follow: balance, frame etc.
  • I have to learn to watch my lead like a hawk. I love watching follows on the social floor who made it look so easy that they were virtually doing it with their eyes closed. Naive me didn’t realise that they were actually switched on 110%, and that a lot of effort went into making it look effortless and playful.
  • The technical class before Sunday night’s Viva Cabaret social made the frame-matching penny drop. It taught me that communicating back to my lead that didn’t always stem from physical contact initiated by him. It wasn’t all about just feeling it through the body. I had to remember to watch his body and basically monkey-see, monkey-do. Bloody basic and obvious, come to think of it, but it’s taken this long for the heavens to open and shine the swing light down upon me because I’ve always approached social dancing with terror, which means EYES CLOSED.
  • Leads respond a lot better to this mimicking as well. Well, most do. It puts my body in the same position as theirs, and therefore better prepared to follow the next move. Not to mention the cool factor of Dave getting a kick out of me copying his little shimmies and Sai looking delighted that I too was a fan of his ‘Monkey Blues’, low-hanging arms and all.
  • Communication, communication, communication. I remember why I love swing so much. I love that it’s just another form of conversation. Sometimes you ask the right questions and the other person’s personality shines forth in their response. And everyone has a different, interesting story to tell; half the fun is extricating that story in a pleasurable manner for the both parties.

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Will work for caffeine and boogie fixes

A good work morning starts with:

1) Two espresso shots
2) A quiet empty office (7.30am)
3) 15 minutes of solo boogieing to a random internet swing radio station

Am sated. Temporarily.

CBD was way quiet last night. It was the first time I’d been around since they started charging for social dancing. If that’s the only thing putting people off, then I’m inclined towards quiet suspicion, but still managed to get a few fun dances in anyway.

It’s only been a month since I started social dancing, and last night was the first time I felt confident enough to approach random leads. I remember the first time I asked a lead all those 1.5 years ago, I forgot to mention that I was a beginner and got waaay more than I bargained for.

He was very good, but in my terror, I channelled the Lindy Turtle. My arms folded up for easy storage and he had to force me around. I felt like a wet towel tumbling in spin cycle on the ‘heavy duty’ setting.

And, of course, I committed one of the the cardinal follow faux pas. It’s a bit of a blur, but I turned very red, stuttered and blubbered in embarassment, apologised so much my nose nearly touched the ground, then skittered away to a corner and hid for the rest of the night. Awwwwwkward.

Nowadays I have the good grace to laugh away mistakes on the floor, smile and say at the end, “That was fun, I’ve learnt a lot. Thank you!”

Then go harass some other leads with my spaghetti arms.

I kid. My frame, matching and core and all that has improved vastly since then, no doubt due to the intensive Blues workshops run by our Texan terrors Laura and Mike. What awesome dancers, awesome instructors.

But that’s a story for another day. Back into corporate drag!

**UPDATE** Just realised that one of the leads I approched was Frank ‘frankyboy’ Dellario of Yehoodi.com, among other hats and projects. Sweet as!

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