Pittsburgh: The Dance (in moments)

On Friday night, Sara took me to the James Street Gastropub and Speakeasy for a dance. We were both excited, she because of the band, the super amazing awesome Boilermaker Jazz Band, and I because I was dancing in a new scene and that's always exciting. The evening lived up to every single expectation I had for it and then some. I was so happy I don't even remember a coherent order of events, so here's the evening as I remember it. In moments.

I'm out of breath as the first song ends. Jared leads me into a low dip and I laugh.

"Wow, that was awesome, let's do it again!" "Right now?" "Sure, why not!" And we dance another because its just that awesome.

Balboa shuffling across the floor.

Recognizing the dull, somewhat dingy whiteness of a well-loved pair of Aris Allens from across the room and knowing I'm in for a treat when the lead they belong to leads me onto the floor.

Pushing it and crossing over, because that's what Frankie would've done.

Kelvin kick-ball-changing in that oh so L.A. style and leading me into a swing out that, if people still did, could be called "California" rather than "Savoy."

In a rare moment of not dancing, I'm impressed at Johnny out-Tolkiening me with his language skillz (sic) rather than his dance ones.

Leading a newbie and hearing "You know, I think I get this now. Do you teach this?"

Realizing how fast the floor is after nearly losing it on more than one occasion.

The first hot note of the Boilermakers.

Nearly, but not actually dying dancing with Jared to "Rugcutter."

BALBOA BALBOA BALBOA. Ralph is smooth as silk the second time around and I relax into lollies and come-arounds.

Closing my eyes, thinking and then saying, "was that a triple basic? Dayum, this boy is good." And then him laughingly telling me that he had actually just messed up. Coulda fooled me.

Wishing I had brought my heels, even though I'm an amazon in them, because I would love to be digging in for some sweet Bal styling.

The smooth as butter cream swing out with John Paul (at least I think that was his name...who knows at a lindy dance?)

Funky blues dancing with John (John? I think so), even though my sexy blues face is basically a grin and I can't stop looking at my feet (eye contact during a blues dance is a dangerous thing).

Twisting my skirt back around after so many toss-outs.

Switching lead and follow with a funny kid in a red shirt...gorgeous follow, but a more improvisational lead than me. After a while, he is firmly in the driver's seat because dang, he's fun to follow.

Remembering scissor kicks and breaking them out whenever I think of it.

Asking the band for "Smooth Sailing" but sad when the Boilermakers don't know it. Oh well, the next song is just as good.

Putting my hair back up for the fiftieth time because I'm dancing so hard.

The thrill of meeting new dancers on a gorgeous (fast) floor with amazing music.

Thanks, Pittsburgh dancers! I had an amazing time and I hope I get to dance with you all again sooner rather than later!

Why I Don't Compete in Lindy Hop Competitions

I love dancing socially and my particular scene, the lindy hop scene, is particularly awesome. I love the music and the movement and the people too. But there's one part of the scene that seems to be gaining importance: competition.

I get why it has become a thing. Competitions validate dancers and motivate them to get better. They can raise the general level of dancing in a scene. Watching amazing dances by amazing dancers can be an inspiring thing. And the prizes are often sa-weeeeeet.

But as the community gets bigger (and I have no doubt that its much bigger now than it was when I first started), more visible, and more connected through youtube and yehoodi, there seems to be a larger emphasis on being seen, rather than enjoying connection.

This whole more people = a greater awareness of appearance has been a theory of mine for a while. I'm probably not the first person to think this (in fact, if anyone knows any cool social theory books on this stuff, I'd love to read it), but I feel like the denser the population, the more invisible individuals become, and the more they try to stand out. This is functional, I think. If you see 200 different people a day, you don't have time to get to know each of them, so you make snap judgments based on their appearance. In a cycle of reinforcement, the more people judge on appearance, the more fastidious people get about their appearance, until appearance is the social cache that can obfuscate other (sometimes more compelling) aspects of people.

These snap judgments can be made anywhere, but in the lindy hop world, it seems like competitions are becoming the authoritative venue for being seen.  In order to "be someone" in the lindy world, you have to compete, to be seen, to win, even though I think there are lots of great dancers out there who don't compete. If you want to be a professional, you teach and you don't get students unless you win. And I don't really like it. There. I said it. I don't like competitions.

There are a couple of different reasons for this. Personally, I don't compete because I don't much like the idea of my dancing being judged on my ability to perform. I don't want to worry about people watching me and I just want to enjoy the connection with my partner and the music. Of course, I know even as I type that that its not completely true. On a certain level, I want people to watch me; the conceit of dressing up in vintage (though I rarely do) and acting out the past means that there's an element to performance to every dance...and what's a performance without an audience? But the idea of folks watching specifically for the purpose of judging me is off-putting. And a good dance with an amazing connection to amazing music can happen just as easily in a living room (especially if you're lucky enough to live with fellow lindy hoppers, like I did for a while) as it can on a competition dance floor. The fact that nobody is there to "judge" an amazing dance doesn't make it any less amazing for the two people doing it. And with the emphasis on being seen, especially in a competative context, maybe that personal part of dancing is getting a little forgotten.

And really, at a certain level, the results are pretty much subjective anyway. It really depends on who's judging. Maybe you've got a real technique hound who is constantly watching for clean swing-outs. Maybe you've got a judge who really looks for musicality and playfulness. Maybe one looks for lines and shapes. There's really no telling what you're going to get. Add to that that maybe the song isn't great for you, or you've never heard it, or (if it's a live band), you get the shitty drum solo, and well, shit. There's a lot out of your control and the results don't necessarily reflect what kind of dancer you are.

And honestly, some of my best "technical" dancing hasn't been very fun. I've had several dances in which the swing outs feel great and the lead leads me through turns and texas tommies like we've been pre-programmed with each other's moves. But the funnest dances are with folks who like to play and who try new things. If it works, great! We have a great "whoa!" moment together...but if it doesn't, well, we end up laughing and shorty georging back to each other. And that's great too. If you're constantly worried about messing up in front of the judges, can you really get into the spirit of innovation?

I know there are some folks, probably a lot of them, actually, who disagree with me. And that's fine. I watch competitions with good humor. When something spectacular happens, its amazing. But for me, dance nirvana will always be a good connection with my partner, playing around with movement to music, and not worrying one bit what someone else thinks about it.

Two-stepping at the Maverick: Some Observations

1. I had fun. I'll be honest, I don't know if I expected to have fun. I hoped I would, but here it is: Country music is not my favorite thing and I was taking along Tim, who feels the same way about country music as he does about car repairs. So my expectations weren't high. But when I walked into the Maverick and saw all those cowboy hats floating around on the dance floor, with bedazzled jeans flashing around them, I knew that even though this wasn't my scene, it certainly was someone's and those someones were having a great time. It was infectious. Watching people dance and enjoy it is almost as fun as doing it (almost). Add good friends and some Jameson and I can pretty much guarantee I'll have a good time. And I did!

2. Bands don't know how to play for dancers. At least this one didn't. It was a great band in most other respects. They were tight, they had lots of energy and I loved their set list. But a 3-minute guitar solo in the middle of "Mustang Sally" just isn't that great to dance to. And Mustang Sally? Great song, but not a good tempo for two-step (or any other dance, except for West Coast Swing, and can you imagine that? I can't). The DJed music that was playing when we got there was better suited for dancing and I wasn't surprised that when the band got back on the packed dance floor suddenly became a little more spacious. Just a little though. Its clear that the folks at the Maverick will dance to just about anything and have a good time doing it. Which is awesome.

3. Country dancing is a real live dance scene. As in, you just show up and you dance. I found this really refreshing in certain ways and sort of off-putting in others. There's no class to take* and that's kind of cool. Maybe a friend of yours teaches you a basic two-step (forward, forward, back). That's really all you need to get onto the floor. And that might not be all you see on the floor. There are a lot of people out there just moving with their partner and feeling good about it. There's a basic, but you don't need to know it. You just lead or follow and have a good time. Which is awesome. On the other hand, it seems a little harder scene to crack. Because there's not necessarily a common dance (although two-step is definitely king), that means that what you know becomes less important than who you know...and if you don't know many people, well, maybe you won't dance as much. I'm so used to the lindy scene, where if you're new, people will almost always ask you to dance. Also, since the Maverick is primarily a bar, there was a whole bar aspect to the dancing; people were there not just to dance, but also to drink, to socialize, to pick up dates. And that meant if you came attached to someone, you probably weren't going to get asked as often either. Of course, its hard to make generalizations based on one time dancing, so I'm more than happy to be proven wrong!

4. When I go out dancing, its usually to a swing dance. But if I go to a westie dance, I'm not going to drop some lindy and charleston on the floor. If I go to a ballroom, I will restrain my urge to swing at and demurely foxtrot (or sppppppiiiiiiinnnnn in a Viennese waltz! So fun!). But if I go to a country western bar, maybe, just maybe I should try to, you know, country dance. Or whatever else is going on. I certainly don't bring a partner, with whom I will dance exclusively, and then dance a fucking cha-cha-cha. But there was one such a couple last night. Now, I don't begrudge them their fun; after all, how often to you get to ballroom dance outside of a ballroom? But is the Maverick really the place? Also, there was a whole show-offy aspect to their dance that was really out of place. Everyone else was dancing just for the fun....it seemed like these two were dancing to show off. How do I presume to know that? Well, dancing cha-cha-cha to a blues dance doesn't make much sense, does it? I get the showing off thing, and if you hear music and you just want to dance and the only dance you can dance is cha-cha-cha, well, ok, but how about asking someone to teach you a two-step, if you're such hot shit? Ugh. Sorry. I know and love some ballroom dancers, but in this case, ew.

5. If I'm going to go dancing at the Maverick again, I seriously need to invest in some cowboy boots and some daisy dukes. A sparkly belt probably wouldn't hurt either.

6. Next time I go dancing at the Maverick, you should come too!

*well, the Maverick offers dance classes, but they're a series that you really invest in, rather than just showing up to a dance and learning from a lesson before it.

What I Was Thinking As I Watched the ILHC Strictly Invitational Finals

So this weekend is a pretty big weekend for lindy hop. In Arlington, VA, the best of the best get together, along with every other lindy hopper who can get there, and dance their little hearts out at the International Lindy Hop Championship. Its clearly a big time for competitions, and one of my favorites, the one that usually has the hottest dancing is the Strictly Invitational. Dancers enter as couples (as opposed to a Jack and Jill competition, in which dancers enter as leads or follows and their partners are chosen at random), and only those couples who are invited get to dance (duh). Needless to say that only the best get invited. This is almost all unchoreographed, but most of these guys are professional who always dance with the same partner, so clearly, they know each others moves. BUT STILL. Just watch. You will be as amazed as I was.

Here are my thoughts, pretty much as I was thinking them (I only did a couple of edits so that this was legible...."fllow" is not word, nor is AMAZESOUACE, but somehow I typed both). There is some seriously amazing dancing in this video. As usual, I'm not sure who I'm looking at most of the time. But here it is!

Intro: Great song! Diga Diga Doo! Hurray!

ROUND 1.

1. Wow, what fun musicality. Who are these people? I will probably feel really bad when I find out and they're some famous people

2. Skye and Frida! Welp, babies didn't slow her down. DAMN THAT KICK! HURRAY! JUMPING! AND SKIPPING! Frida and Syke, you make me happy

3. ooh, cute dress. A little early for air, don't you think? But nicely executed. I hate it when they break partner. Who are these people too?

4. Is that Todd Yanconne? Ok, everyone is screaming and I'm not sure why. Repeating a move is not that cool

5. Wait, is THAT Todd Yannacone? What the fuck? Double vision. ok, I'm a little bored.

6. ooooooh, nice stockings. AND YAY A STOP! oooh! Nice, love the spinning thingsDAMM! LOVE THESE PEOPLE< WHO ARE THE<?!?!?!?!

AH! ADORABLE TANDEM!

7. NICE!  Cute side by sides stuff, dudes! Again, a little early for air and splits, but whatevs.

8. oh, I like the stopping. AND THE OLD SCHOOL SWIVELS! AND THE STOPPING WITH THE OLD SCHOOL SWIVELS. WHO IS THIS GUY>>!?!?!?

9. Yay Max and Annie!  So athletic! With the stopping and the jumping! Max is such a show off. AND I'm sorry, NOBODY THROWS AIR LIKE THEM. DAMN DUDES!

10. ok, who is Nick Williams dancing with now? I still don't know what the big deal is with him. I'm mean, he's ok.

11. Naomi, you are the follow of my heart. IS THAT TODD YANNACONE AGAIN!? So happy! Love the expresssions. oh, don't break connection! I hate that.

12. Jo and Mikey? hm....like the short shoulder and the little hoppy thing, but they seem like a train almost out of control....

13. oof, tough to be last. I like her spins. Nice kicks too! She reminds me of old school dancers.

ROUND 2

1. ok, I seriously love this couple,. So smooth and happy. A little boring, but still great.

2. O FRIDA YOU ARE SO AMAZSAUCE> AND SKYE

3. sppinys! FUN!....and some crazy acrobatics!

4. whoops! Missed, but still some nice swing outs

5. Todd? eh. round two, not as good.

6.AAAAAAA I LOVE THEM. They must be Euro. OH YES WALK IT OUT!!!

7. RUN! And nice drop! NOW is the time for splits!

8. Man, this guy has some serious moxy. His follow is eh

9. Yup, that is some sic shit.

10. Ok, now I sort of get it. That was a sick toss. and so musical.

11. YES! WITH THE HANDS UP!

12. Jo's hair is very cool when spinning. Ah, the pancake point. very nice

13. ok, way to end strong, dudes.

ALL SKATE:  OMG, SO COOL WHEN THEY ALL SWING OUT. CHILLLZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
FUCK YES. Seriously, that couple in the black KILLED it. KILLED IT. I'm going to have to watch this again.

DANCE ANGER POST

So I'm going through my normal morning internet routine this morning: webcomics, the NYTimes, my plethora of emails, facebook, etc, when I see this: 

http://whatshouldwecallswingdance.tumblr.com/post/55806472244/1-feeling-like-you-cant-say-no

My calm morning reverie is blasted away by a wave of scathing anger at the self-absorption of that post. I will try to be reasonable. I will try to remember that I've been guilty of some of the things that I'm railing against. I will try to remember that this human being, whose ideas I'm gnashing my teeth at, is probably good and great and awesome in many respects. But I make no guarantees. Mom, I will probably use the f-word a lot. 

Look, I get it. Sometimes you don't want to dance with someone. I've been there. We've all been there. Its really fucking hot. You're really fucking sweaty. You just want to hang out with your friends. Your potential partner is a creep. Your potential partner is one of those people who thinks yanking your arm out of its socket is awesome and great. Nobody should feel like they can't say no to a dance. I get it. I GET IT.

But you know what? ITS STILL FUCKING RUDE. Especially if you're one of those assholes who turns down a dance with someone to dance with someone else. That's probably the rudest thing I can think of. Why? BECAUSE YOU'RE AT A FUCKING DANCE. People are there to dance, and (shocking!) to dance with you! So how do you think they feel when, after you've politely told them 'no thanks', they see you swinging your fucking heart out with someone else? I'm pretty sure that's the definition of rude.  That's like canceling plans with one set of not-as-fun friends and then making plans with your more-fun friends AT THE SAME PLACE. And that's shitty. How would you feel if someone did that to you? You'd feel shitty, right?

Look, I'm not saying you have to dance with the creeper. You can politely turn them down. Same with the arm-buster. But then at least have the common decency to sit one out. Seriously, people? Are we so self-absorbed as a society that we don't care if we make other people feel bad, just as long as we feel good? Is ONE FUCKING DANCE too high a price to pay to spare someone's feelings? Just politely say no, thanks, and SIT DOWN. Better yet, strike up a conversation with someone else who is also sitting down, and make a goddamn new lindy friend.

I'm not saying you have to find your reject later, either. Maybe they're so wrapped up in their lindy joy that they could give a fuck whether you find them for a dance later or not. Maybe they'll forget they even asked you. Maybe they only asked you in the first place because you were right there, and why the hell not? So you don't have to feel obligated to ask them again. You don't even have to feel obligated to promise another one later. Like I said, nobody should feel like every single request for a dance is a command. Its not and you can say no.

But if you say no, make sure you have a little compassion for the person you're turning down. If you do have a good reason, you can share that with them. If you don't, just a polite no, thanks, not this one is fine. You don't have to dance with anyone you don't want to. You also don't have to say "thank you" to the barrista who just made your mocha frappacino, but isn’t the world a better place when everyone does? When courtesy is the norm and not the exception? So lets try to keep that in mind.

Oy.

I actually have a lot more to say, but I'm so riled up, none of it is able to surface in any coherent manner. ARRGGGGHHH.  Eventually, I'd actually like to discuss this in a respectful, cogent and thoughtful manner, so if you have thoughts, leave them!

Musings on Dancing and Life

 I went dancing this weekend, as I have several weekends for the past ten years. Admittedly, my weekend dancing forays have become less frequent than in the past and I'm just as likely to be found chatting with my friends as busting out some sick lindy moves. But I've noticed something about my recent dance adventures. They've become deeper, more meaningful, and much more centered.

I really hate it when people start to wax deep about their chosen hobbies. I usually cringe when I hear climbers talk about how climbing is some sort of metaphor for life..."like, its just you and the rock. You either climb or you fall and its so pure." Or cyclists and runners that go on about how the uphills are the best because of the challenge, man, the challenge. I tend to just roll my eyes and move on. 

This distaste usually even extends to lindy hop, my own personal addiction. The swing out has never been some deep metaphor for the vicissitudes of life to me, nor has the ephemeral nature of dancing been some commentary on the brevity of existence. Lindy hop is fun. It always has been for me. And while I like talking about why its so fun, I haven't ever thought about its fun because it's taught me deep valuable life lessons. Its fun and that's it. Usually.

But lately, I've become much more aware of how my approach to dancing is reflecting a general shift in my approach to life. Here is my moment. The moment I've been avoiding. The moment when I join the ranks of those whom I've derided and lose any claim to superiority (if I ever even had one). OMG. DANCING IS LIFE.

When I first started dancing lindy hop in 2003, I fell head over heels in love.  I remember the first time very clearly. I was spending my first summer in Flagstaff, working at a downtown futon/gift shop called Zani and living with my friend Gen in a tiny studio apartment. I heard there was a free swing lesson on Heritage Square. I found out both my neighbor and my co-worker both knew how to dance and were willing to go with me. The universe was practically shouting at me, "GO!" I got dolled up, just like beginners now still do, and took my first lesson.

I was entranced. The music was so happy. The movement felt right. So right. It was as though I had been a swing dancer in a past life, it was so natural. Sure, the dance phrases were in six counts and the music in eights, but that was the only hiccup, and easily forgotten about in my joy. My first social dance was with Bill, who lead a move that hadn't been taught in the class, and as I followed it without even thinking, he laughed happily and said "We've got a natural!" I was confident and happy and never ever going to stop.

For the next few years, I was obsessed. I started dancing whenever I could. I started a venue with Bill of the First Dance. I even practiced in the shower (please don't, its dangerous). Every dance was an opportunity to dance with as many people as possible. Everyone was a friend. I traveled to Phoenix, to Utah, to Tucson, just to dance. And to dance with everyone. I spent the next two years immersing myself in lindy culture and honing my dancing skills.

Things eventually cooled a bit when I moved to Tucson. There were other hobbies, other families here that I built. Graduate school, the Summit Hut, choir...they all had their distinct people, and the lindy community here was a bit more fragmented than in Flagstaff. I made dance friends here too, but they were just one community of several.

Over the last few years, though, as many of my communities have shrunk, and as I realize I've met and lost more people than I can remember, I've started to value the ones who really matter more. Each individual community of several has shrunk to an important few. And I've prioritized keeping them, rather than meeting new people.

And as I was dancing last night, I realized that's how I've begun to approach dancing too. I'd much rather have good dances than lots. So much of that means shedding unnecessary movement and simplifying in order to listen better. The metaphor is so apt that I'm not even sure if I'm talking about dance or life. Because DANCING IS LIFE.

Dancing is like life too, I realized, in that I needed to find my center. Of course, physically, that just means knowing where your center of gravity is and keeping your weight over it. Metaphorically speaking, though (I cringed as I typed that), in life, it means knowing where you are in relation to nature, to society, to your loved ones, to yourself. It sounds simple in concept, but it can be difficult to do. In dancing, leads are constantly telling you where to put your body and the trick is to know where you are so you can know where you're going...just like life is constantly offering circumstances that threaten to pull you off balance.

So dancing, at least for me, really has become a reflection of how I want to live life: centered, meaningful, and connected.