Category Archives: Perspective on Dance

Sometimes we develop certain….feelings….for and about dance. Sometimes these feelings approach pure joy, and we couldn’t be happier. Sometimes these feelings are more of a trial, riddled with anxiety, doubt, frustration, competitiveness, and sadness. For some reason, though, we keep coming back for more. Why?

Blues dancing is….

Posted on by
Reply

Every time we mention to someone that we teach blues dancing, the immediate response is, “What’s that?”

blues lean 2

Luckily for most of the rest of the dance styles out there, the name of each style has come to mean the style itself. “Waltz” doesn’t need much explanation, for example. People just know what it is.

But blues dancing? Not so much. Here, at least, is the beginning of a list of blues dance characteristics.

Blues dancing is….

…a standing partnered dance, more in the style of the ballroom dances than contact improv.

…a lead-follow dance in which one partner signals moves, direction, timing, etc, and the other follows (even though the roles may be switched).

…danced in close embrace, torso connecting with torso, in a more open closed embrace, (similar to ballroom), or open, with connection only in the hands.

…very much about rhythmic variation, meaning that several “basic” footwork patterns may be used, and combinations or smaller elements of those patterns are also explored.

…connection-based. Every detail of the dance may be communicated through physical connection (the dancers’ “frames”). This is different from a style in which move sequences are memorized and repeated.

…expressive. Dancers attempt to express the emotion of the music and not just the tempo or musical timing.

…grounded, danced on more or less flat feet – the whole foot vs. the ball.

…hip-centered. Lots of hip movement, but in a style different from Latin movement. Twists, dips, figure eights, and more are possible.

…danced to blues music, of course, but also to other slow, rhythmic, groove or lyrical-based music as well, including trip hop, slow jazz, R&B.

…improvisational. The better two dancers’ connection, the more they are able to explore movement variations neither dancer has experienced before.

What characteristics would you add or remove?

(By the way, we teach blues dancing, as mentioned, every Monday night.)

How swing dancing changed my life

Posted on by
2

That sounds like a pretty big claim: swing dancing changed my life. It’s true, though. Once I started swing dancing, almost everything changed!

I was in a science track at the Evergreen State College in Olympia, WA. I had an artistic side, of course, but I wasn’t necessarily feeding it except through some occasional writing. I didn’t know what my path was going to look like, exactly, but in my first quarter it was math, computer modeling, biology, and hydrology. Honestly, not the most exciting stuff!

Then my girlfriend at the time convinced me to learn to swing dancing. She was learning up at Western in Bellingham. I begrudgingly agreed – it seemed to be too bouncy a dance for my taste – and it was at least a month before I could even do the basic footwork. A month!

Eventually something clicked. The dance entered my bones. A sort of fever grabbed me. This was the time of the Gap commercial with swing dancers leaping over each other, Swing Kids, and Swingers, Big Bad Voodoo Daddy and other neo-swing bands emerging to ride the building momentum. By the summer, I was hooked. I watched every swing video I could find. I bought all the music I could (on CD’s – no mp3 downloads yet). I dressed the part and bought the most incredible shoes made especially for dancing. It’s amazing they lasted – I danced every moment I could.

These are my first and only swing shoes. I bought them in 1999 and they still feel better than anything else I've ever worn.

The effects rippled outward. In my second quarter I shifted from a science to a performing arts focus, and my year finished with a co-choreographed dance piece as a part of a larger performance arts showcase. The following year I starting teaching swing, trying to build the scene so there would be more opportunity to dance in a city that didn’t have a lot of options. I visited other cities along the west coast for workshops and dance events. And I came to Vancouver eventually to dance, met one of the loves of my life, moved here, and began teaching and performing full time.

Internally, the changes were also enormous. I was incredibly shy throughout my earlier school years. Through dance, I started to find my voice. Suddenly I was standing in front of groups of people, teaching, talking, sharing my knowledge! It’s something I never imagined I’d be doing!

Even more has changed since then, but the central message is still the same: dance – and more specifically swinging dancing – completely changed my life, changed my focus, changed where I live and what I do on a daily basis.

I’m wondering if it might not have the same positive influence on you? On others? I’m wondering if four or six or twelve weeks of learning swing or blues or almost any other style of dance will change people’s lives.

What has your experience been? What dance style changed the course of your work or how you lived or where you decided to grow roots? How has dance changed your own life?

Blues Dance, Blues Music

Posted on by
Reply

After a bit of an internal hiatus from blues and partner dance (I just wasn’t feeling compelled to do much), I feel like I’m back….and better than ever!

This time I’m delving more deeply into blues music. I remember going through a phase like this at the beginning of my swing dance craze, back when I started dancing in the first place, back when the newness of it all compelled me to learn all I could about this new thing I so dearly loved. I listened to a lot of swing music then, I learned about its origin, along with the dance, and I felt I really could embrace my experience on the dance floor from the inside out. I didn’t just dance to the music, or on the music – I danced inside it. I breathed it!

Now the same is happening, but with blues. It’s no longer enough to simply show up at a dance and dance to the songs I like. I want to know what they are, where they come from, who sings them, and what they’re about. I had no idea that blues music reaches back quite so far. I had no idea that watching a recording of old blues singers could be so compelling, but it’s true – the look in Howlin’ Wolf’s eyes from some of those old films is…well….frightening….awe-inspiring…moving. Moving. Moving!

How many blues dancers realize that they’re dancing to the deep outcry of people who struggled, who fought, who had it tough but came through the fire anyway? No wonder I needed a break – the dance was becoming all mechanics and no feeling. I’m back to that original place I entered all those years ago – feeling, feeling, feeling!

At one point during my search for new music, I tried to find playlists for blues dancers. Not much luck there! I realized that there is a huge hole out there in the internet – not enough information about the songs that are great for dancing. Perhaps DJs would rather hide their secrets. I’ve decided I’d like to expose them, or I guess I mean I’d like to share them – share my own adventures in music so that others can have the experience of dancing to the songs that are really moving. So, time permitting, that’s my plan – start listing the artists that sing and play their hearts out, first of all, and then list the songs that are best for really going somewhere on the dance floor. I’ll list slow, medium and faster blues along with fusion, world, and other not-quite-blues genres as well as non-blues music that has enough bluesy elements or simply enough feeling to make me want to blues dance to it. Perhaps blues dance is no longer blues dance once you change the music, but it’s close enough. The feeling is there. The same elements apply.

Speaking of the elements of blues dancing, Diane and I are also teaching blues again, and it feels great. We’re delving deeper into the dance now, and we’re finding new ways to break down the things we do and offer concepts that will help other dancers expand what they do as well. Our latest mini blues dance class went really well, so we’re organizing more, spreading our unique insights, hoping to positively influence the Vancouver dance scene one dancer, or one small group of dancers, at a time!

How to dance with a partner: body, not feet

Posted on by
Reply

(Diane and I have been teaching partner dancing our own way for nearly two years now. It’s a method we have developed from the filtered down essentials of all the dances we know, and as far as we know, no one else around here teaches this way. I think I’ve been at it long enough now to start writing about our ideas, and hopefully offer a bit of guidance to anyone who is wondering how to start learning the art of partner dancing with or without taking lessons.)

Let’s start with the tremendous illusion that has been cast throughout the world of dance instruction: that the dance is in the footwork. There’s a street in Seattle where there are actually metal footprints set in the sidewalk representing different dances: this pattern is the waltz, this pattern is the cha cha. The lady’s feet go here, the gentleman’s here. Dancing, thus, is clearly in the feet, right? This is also how almost every dance class begins: “Okay class, ready, and – step, step, triple-step, step, step, triple-step.” Thus the illusion is upheld.

But if dancing were only in the feet, wouldn’t walking also be only in the feet? Try this: stand with your feet a few inches apart, directly underneath you, with your weight balanced equally on both. Stand perfectly still. Without moving anything else at all – not your head, your chest, your shoulders, your arms, nor your hips – try lifting one foot (including that leg, of course) and taking a step.

If you don’t cheat, it won’t work. You’re anchored to the spot. If it does work, you cheated and moved! You see, you can’t even begin to take a step with just one foot until your entire body shifts sideways or forward onto the other foot. Try it. Let your body shift to one side, and suddenly your other foot will be free to move.

Walking begins with tipping the body forward, putting all your weight on one foot, and using the other foot to catch your body’s forward momentum before you tip too far and topple over. The process then continues. Stop moving your weight from foot to foot, and you’ll stop walking.

Dancing involves the same process, only the feet move in different patterns on the floor. This is true enough, but if we return to our previous exercise in trying to take a step, we will begin to understand how dancing is actually the movement of one’s entire body above the feet, with the feet simply following along. Whether I am dancing swing, salsa, or the waltz, I must shift my entire body from foot to foot in order to let my feet move in the proper pattern.

This is where connection begins. The very first movement, before any sort of basic pattern begins, is a slight, subtle, gentle shift, usually sideways, over to one foot. My partner will mirror this, following my connection, and then when I begin the first move, she will feel, rather than guess, anticipate, or even intellectually know, what foot to start on.

So, go now, and pay attention to the weight of your body above your feet, and let your body do your walking, and let your body do your dancing!

Dance is joy / Dance is work

Posted on by
Reply

I started dancing ten years ago when the person I was dating dragged me into swing. I wanted something more sensual, like salsa, but swing it was (she was persistent), and after a month of struggle, I finally got the basic step. Then I was hooked, and dance started to fill my life. I changed from a science to a performing arts track while in university, started a swing club, danced whenever and wherever there was dancing to be done. I never dove into serious formal training, but I’ve danced off and on ever since. Anytime I had periods of diminished happiness, I always realized later that I had suddenly stopped dancing as often as usual. The more I danced, the happier I was!

Then I met Diane at a swing dance. Our connection grew, on and off the dance floor, and three years later we were married. We decided to make dancing into a part time career, so now dance is also work. We teach almost daily, we choreograph and perform together, and my old breathless sense of dancing for joy has been…tempered…by the sense that I must dance, or at least teach dance…in order to make a living.

Most of the time this is perfectly fine. It’s great, actually! I get to teach other people how to dance, and hopefully to discover the same kind of joy I first found when I learned swing. Performing is also wonderful when it goes well, and I love the process of creating new work. I also really like being completely focused while in a dance class, pushing my body to do new and wonderful things as fast as I can learn them, and the time always passes way too quickly. Dance can be hard work, but it’s work I really like.

And then I stop and realize how far I’ve come from my initial pure pleasure of moving. I don’t dance swing or blues now without thinking about what I’m doing. I don’t often just let go. I’m constantly reminded of my need for more technique, more training, more vocabulary. How long has it been since I’ve gone to a house blues party and danced the night away without thinking about anything at all? Too long.

If I worked at an office job, I would need to find ways to revive my motivation for and interest in my work, whether by creating meaningful connections with my coworkers, developing new projects, pursuing new training, or even trying a different schedule once and a while. Fortunately, I can actually choose to do these things since I’m my own boss. Yet I wonder if these things would even be quite enough. I imagine I would probably need to go a little further, and try to get closer to the heart of what drew me to such work in the first place. I would need to nourish a sense of play, exploration, and discovery. I would need a way to let go a little, and allow some unordered, unpredictable variables into an otherwise mundane routine.

With dance, that means going out and just dancing, full on, all out, with complete abandon. Easy to imagine, hard to do unless I find a time, a venue, an occasion.

So I’m looking for one. Waiting. Ready to make dance joyful again.

More blues dance discussion

Posted on by
Reply

Apparently I’m repeating myself. I found an older fragment of an article I wrote a while back about fusing blues with other forms of dance. Later, I updated the article with a response to the trend toward “vintage” or “historical” blues. Here are those thoughts, spoken in the royal “we” of couple/companyhood, in their original form:

******

There has been some recent discussion throughout the swing and blues communities about the authenticity of the modern approach to blue dance. Some dancers have even researched “vintage” blues forms in order to practice and teach a more “correct” form of the dance, and others simply dance to blues music and call it blues. Where do we stand?

We agree that there are factors one may use to determine whether a dance can be considered “authentic” or not, and this is perfectly valid in a historical context. We recognize that some of the movement in our own dances may match a historical definition of blues dance, and some may not. We’re a bit more interested in the current expression of the form, however, so rather than adhere to a label and definition of the dance and build our understanding from there, we prefer to explore the specific mechanics of partner dance itself: connection, weight shifting, footwork, movement, musicality, and more. These partner dance concepts aren’t limited to any one form, but are used across all forms of partner dance no matter its historical origins.

How does it all fit together for us? We use historical definitions of blues dance as a sort of starting point: this is what the dance used to be, and sometimes still is. Then we build on that point by placing our attention on what actually happens when two people dance together, no matter what the form is called. This means that the form will inevitably grow beyond its definition. This is, we believe, the true reason we dance in the first place: to discover, to express, to create a shared moment of deeply human experience. In the end we may simply dance to blues music and call it blues, but what we’re actually doing is far beyond the scope of any single, limited defintion of a dance.

Oh, the blues dance blues

Posted on by
1

Since 2001 I’ve come to love this thing called blues dance.

It’s possible, though, that this thing isn’t really even called blues dance. Can you give something a name and yet not know exactly what that thing is?

Here’s what I thought it was back in 2001: adapting what I knew from lindy hop to be slow enough and fitting enough to dance to blues music, to fit the music, to have a more moment by moment connection, and, oh yeah – feeling the thrill of really close contact with someone while dancing in a semi-darkened room, and being so tired that I actually felt wonderful and could finally let go. That was blues. It was awesome.

Seven years later, I’ve danced to countless blues songs. I’ve attended blues house parties and blues dances that lasted until dawn. I’ve taught blues classes and blues workshops. I’ve watched blues, read about blues, learned to play a bit of blues. And at some point in all this time I developed the blues dance blues. It’s quite possibly a more urgently mournful blues than any actual blues song itself. If my blues could express itself in a conversation, it would go like this:

“I’m digging this slow, sensual dancin’, man, and this song just eats my soul!”

“Yeah, but you ain’t doin’ actual blues, man!”

“I’m feeling the shuffle beat and the bass and the low growlin’ horns, and I’m moving! What else is there?”

“The shake ‘n bake! That’s what else!”

“That what?!?”

“It’s a vintage step, man, straight outta the ole juke joints, man. You dig?”

“No.”

“To dance blues, you gotta dance the dance they danced back in the day! You gotta do the mooch! You gotta do the fishtail. You gotta do the slow drag. They’re all historic!”

“I’ve never even heard of those names! And I thought I was dancing in the only day that really matters anyway – right now!”

“Maybe so, but then you ain’t dancing blues.”

And on it goes. Is blues the pure and simple act of dancing to blues music? Is it using the different layers of the music to inspire different kinds of movement? Or is it the mooch? You have your historians on one side, your presentorians on the other. You have your purists teaming up with the historians, the inventors enjoying the present moment. You have your…. blues dance blues. One big unnecessary argument.

When asked if he could teach some certain move, I think it was the “leap frog,” one of the biggest names in swing dancing history, Frankie Manning, said they didn’t have names back when they danced in the 30′s. They just danced! I find the non-name thing a little hard to believe simply because it’s our nature to name things. And yet the point here is that the idea of not naming is one that allows for discovery, expression, and invention. Naming brings in the added argument of correct-ness or not-correct-ness, and that’s where my blues is coming from. If I’m worrying about the historical validity of my footwork while trying to dance blues, then that’s all I’m ever going to feel: blues. If someone watching me is only looking for vintage steps, they’ll miss the excitement of what’s happening – what’s being created – in the moment.

So let’s try this. Let the historians compile their lists. While I dance what I feel is blues, they can check off any of the old moves that I do properly. I’ll be happy if I get even one step correct. The slow drag? Check! Then I’ll pocket the list. A keepsake.

Then I’ll forget about that list, turn the lights down low, and spend the rest of the night dancing my heart out in the best possible way I know how – by feeling it, by connecting with my partner, by being open to possibility. I’ll get the blues, then, I’m sure of it, but it will be the kind of blues we all want to feel: deep, raucous, sensual, passionate, wild, playful, uninhibited, wonderful.