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.

Best Things on the Internet: September 2013

This hilarious review of Patrick Rothfuss's book, A Wise Man's Fear: BEST REVIEW EVER. If you haven't read the first two books in Patrick Rothfuss's Kingkiller Chronicles, well, do that. Then read this. It is absolutely spot on.

This amazingly awesome MarioPaintComposer version of "Get Lucky": I didn't know people even stil had Mario Paint Composer! HOLY SHIT! SO COOL! I love this song. I love Mario. If you put them together, well, that's even better.

This Dutch reality show about farmers looking for love: caveat: I haven't watched the show. But I find the entire idea absolutely charming! Especially after watching an episode of the Bachelorette. How refreshing to hear about a reality show that is actually.....real! That last bit about the teachers, though, that's low, Jezebel.

Janelle Monae's New Album The Electric Lady: This thing is awesomely all over the place. For someone like me, who likes pretty much everything from classic jazz to electronica to rock, this album is a roller coaster of fun different styles. It doesn't really have a cohesive sound, but there's a futuristic sci-fi feel to everything. Dance Apocalypse sounds like something from the 80s, Look Into My Eyes reminds me of anime flicks like Neon Genesis Evangelion or even Blade Runner. At any rate, its amazing and if you've got an hour, you should listen to it. And then buy it.

This adorable video of Maru playing with a kitten: If you don't know who Maru is, well, you should. He's probably the most famous cat on the internet...or at least in Japan. If you're unfamiliar, I suggest you start here or here....or even here. Once you're familiar with Maru and his shennanigans, well, watch those other videos anyway. Then watch this one. The only thing cuter than Maru? Maru and a kitten.

These adorable cats in hats: They're cats. In hats. Tiny adorable construction paper hats. SO CUTE.

This heart-rending obituary Sarah Silverman wrote for her dog, Duck: Sarah, I'm so sorry for your loss. I'm crying for you and with you and I know Duck lived a long happy life full of love. But it doesn't make it easier to say good-bye.

This video of Max and Thomas recreating their most famous lindy routine: Remember this? If not, well, that's ok. You had to be a lindy hopper around 2003 to have seen it. It was a strange time too. Follows wore jeans and dresses, leads wore huge cargo pants, you either danced "savoy" or "California" style, and dressing vintage? What losers did that? But the lindy scene has gotten back to its roots in music and style through the miracle of the internet. Thomas and Max have become (were already, I guess) two of the most recognizable dancers in the lindy hop world. For two other great dancers' wedding (Congrats, Dax and Sarah!), they recreated that routine. I like this one even better!

This recreation of the Vesuvius eruption that destroyed Pompeii: cooooooooooooooool.

These gorgeous whimsical lovely paintings: These remind me of some of my favorite things from my childhood.  The Last Unicorn, Maxfield Parrish prints, the Wind in the Willows, foxes, cats, dragons, Russian laquer boxes and everything else I think is beautiful.

This Sunday Morning Breakfast Cereal comic: Teaching high school really makes you appreciate this one. Like, whoa.

This article on why deli meat has rainbows: I've always wondered about this!!!

Race and Lindy Hop? Some Incipient Thoughts

One of my favorite swing bloggers, Wandering&Pondering posted this video a couple of weeks ago, along with this status (it was on Facebook):

Andy Reid reminded me of this clip as an example of something that could only happen in New York City. Mama Lu Parks worked in the Savoy Ballroom before they tore it down in the 50's. She made it her mission in life to carry the torch of Lindy Hop during that "wandering the desert" era through the 60's, 70's and early 80's. Her protégés showed up at Yehoodi's 6th Anniversary in 2004 which was also the 100th Birthday of Count Basie, and threw down a performance for the ages. We were trying so hard hard to get that "old school" feel for so many years, and they just threw that out there like it was nothing.

Chances are if Wandering&Pondering posts it, its worth watching. I didn’t know who Mama Lu Parks was, but what the hey, JSalmonte posted it, so I watched it.

I immediately knew what he meant when he described the dancing with “that old school feel.” If you watch enough lindy hop, especially old clips of dancers from the 30s and 40s, you get a sense for how things have changed. Nobody dances quite like those old timers did. Even with all the old original music, all the vintage original clothing, in original ballrooms, something is still different about they way they dance. Of course it is. I liken it to watching Mad Men (which, I’ll admit, I don’t much), which has been praised to the skies for the accuracy of its sets, its costumes, its language, its culture. But nobody watching Mad Men would ever for a moment think it was actual footage from the 60s. There’s still a pretend quality to it, an awareness that no matter how technically perfect the performance, its still just that. Its not history, but the performance of history. I wonder about that sometimes; how we can’t really escape the time and place we’re formed in, no matter how we change the details. We are fundamentally creatures of our own time.

Which made me think about the epoch in which swing was “original.” It was the 30s and 40s, before the Civil Rights movement and integration and all that jazz, and while I’m no expert on race relations, its clear from the footage that survives that there were two very distinct cultures of lindy hop in the 30s and 40s: one white and one black.

(skip to about 1:45 to see the lindy hopping and try to ignore the awful sambo stuff)

They almost don’t look like the same dance, right?

But lindy hop started in Harlem in the 30s, when Harlem was a black community (I think it still is, right?). Then it swept through the nation as a national dance craze. So those white dancers dancing, while they’re original dancers in the grand scope of history, wouldn’t be considered originators of the dance. Like blues and jazz, what was originally a black form of expression was absorbed into the greater (mostly white?) culture of the U.S. And I think its probably fair to say that while lindy hop got absorbed into greater U.S. culture, its black dancers and its white dancers were probably not very integrated. (There were a few exceptions; the Cotton Club The Savoy Ballroom, where Fankie Manning threw the first aerial, was definitely integrated[The Cotton Club, I have been informed, was definitely not.]). So two groups of dancers, one black, one white.

I don’t really know what I can say about that, except as I was watching, I couldn’t help but notice that most of the performers were black, while most of the audience was white.

Its fair to say that today, lindy hop is a predominantly white dance. While there are a few notable exceptions (Steven Mitchell, Ryan Francois, you are amazing), mostly they’re white, affluent kids. If they’re not white, they’re Asian. And they probably learned how to dance at college. For some reason, lots of the guys are engineers of some sort (I’ve never been able to figure that out). So what was once a dance of Harlem is being kept alive by a bunch of nerdy rich kids who like to dress up in vintage clothing. What was once a national phenomenon, danced all over the U.S. (granted, not together, but still pretty ubiquitous), is now a sub-culture of partner dancing danced by a privileged few, who are mostly white, middle to upper class, college educated and (usually) pretty nerdy.

That’s maybe putting it a little harshly. I’m not personally rich and I don’t particularly like to dress up in vintage, but the rest is pretty true. I learned to dance in college. I don’t know what drew me to lindy in the first place; there was the famous Gap commercial, of course, but I don’t remember that playing a huge role in my attraction to swing dancing. I do remember watching old movies with my mom and loving the world I saw there. Men in suits and ties, wearing fedoras; women in jaunty hats and wearing gloves and well-tailored dresses. I loved it. And I loved the music that went along with it. Glenn Miller, Artie Shaw, Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong. I know when I heard them sing and play, I wanted, maybe even needed to move. So I found a lesson and started. But there’s no doubt that in terms of race and socio-economics, I was the norm.

I’ve been trying to think about why that might be and what it might mean, especially in the aftermath of Miley Cyrus’s racially and sexually charged VMA performance. I wonder about nostalgia and what it is that actually makes me want to lindy hop. And I wonder if I, as a white woman dancing what was in its inception at least a black dance, share anything with Miley. My intent is obviously different; I lindy because it feels good to do it, because I love camaraderie and the openness of the people who do it, because the music is so joyful that I have to do it. But I wonder, especially now, if I should be a little uncomfortable with what I’m a part of, if I can even have anything meaningful to say about it.

I’ve found writing this to be incredibly difficult because of my unease with the whole subject and because I love dancing so much. I’m still not sure if anything I’ve said makes sense or if its even worth saying, since most of my experience with these issues is incidental and not well researched at all. Maybe once I've put in more time and effort, they'll be more articulate. In the meantime, wanna dance?

Adventures in Fever Dreams

Its 12:20pm on Labor Day. I should be enjoying my day off, but instead I'm miserable on the couch. Tim has just left for a half day of work, so I'm on my own. A movie, I think.  But getting up to decide what to watch is too much trouble, so I reach for my kindle instead.

Soon the words on the page become blurry and the next think I know I'm on a dancefloor. I've never been to this particular one before, but I know it must be in LA. There's a huge lindy hop thing there this weekend. Surely I'm at Camp Hollywood. Before I can get my bearings, I see a familiar face: Ian from work. Ian doesn't dance, I think, Ian has a phd in philosophy. But then he sees me, grabs my hand and we are grooving. He's like the goddamn Skye Humphries of dreamland, creative and smooth and really really good. I'm about to comment on just how good he is when he drops my hand and walks away. Just walks away without a word. The song hasn't ended, no other shadowy couple has left the floor. Just him.

And I wake up. My body aches. My mouth is dry (no doubt I have been mouth breathing) and I'm hungry. I manage to rustle up some leftovers while I check facebook. Howard and Gayl are at Camp Hollywood. They've made it into the Amateur Balboa finals and I couldn't be more proud, or rather I could be, if my head would stop hurting. I turn off the computer and lay down again.

And find myself in a huge conference room. A dance floor is set up, but nobody is dancing. I know that I'm back in LA, back at Camp Hollywood, but where is everybody? I leave the conference room to find the dancers I know must be here somewhere, but I only find more empty conference rooms. Finally, I hear music coming from somewhere. I follow it into yet another conference room, this one not empty, but instead of lots of dancing couples I see only one solitary person on stage. The rest of the room is full of empty tables and chairs. The person on stage looks like Jeanelle Monae, but she's white, so I know it can't be her. Its Debra. And she's killing it. I watch her finish her solo charleston act and shoot her a thumbs up. She sees me and smiles. I leave.

And now I'm on the beach. I see lights ahead and hear music, but Morgan appears along with Cat. "The dancing is over there, Lauren. Over that dune." he says, pointing in opposite direction. "Yeah, everybody is over there." Cat chimes in. I eye them suspiciously and follow my gut. I go toward the music, rather than the dunes. They follow.

I finally find everyone sitting on bleachers set up in the sand around a huge campfire. On one side is another dance floor, but again, nobody is dancing. I see Howard, who is always game to dance, and even he shakes his head no. I put my hands out to warm them on the fire, feeling disappointed.

And wake up. I'm sweating. My fever has finally broken. I guess its time to go dancing.

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.

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.