Closer Than Close Hold; Evidences of the Southern Compass

He Goes:

Me: You should dance with X, she's very good at freestyling.

Y: Yeah, she's great. She's really cute. I think she's cute, don't you think?

Me: Well, uh, yes, she's very cute. (said with the special intonation that implies "although I'm married and she's young enough to be my daughter, so I have to be cautious in my statements here.")

Y: Do you know if she has a boyfriend?

There are societies in which dance is a mating ritual. And when I say societies I really mean one society - the one that began in Africa about forty thousand years ago and now covers the entire face of the Earth. Since I have at least one anthropologist friend I'll cover my arse and say that there may well be little pocket communities where there isn't some relationship between dance and sex. But there's a little bit of sex in the air at most dance classes.

Now, clearly that isn't the whole aspect of it. People dance for a whole lot of reasons - as exercise, as relaxation, because they love the music and can't help themselves. I dance with a lot of people that (although very nice) I wouldn't want to sleep with, and if I only danced with people who'd sleep with me I'd never have got into Lindy or social dancing - I'd be dancing one hour a week of Ballroom with my wife, and I'd probably be doing that badly.

But that said - two of the members of my very first dance class are now married with a lovely baby daughter. Every few months (up to and including just yesterday), I find out about a pair of dancers I know that have coupled-up. Obviously there's personality meshing going on here too, but dance acts as a kind of solvent for physical awkwardness. Once you've got used to touching someone it's less of a step to more intimate contact.

As a married man, I'm out of all of this - but I have to admit that a few times I have danced with women who've had that magic combination of attractiveness and style to bring on a - ahem - physical response. Not "is that a gun in your pocket or are you just pleased to see me", I hasten to add - more like "ready when you are boss"! Just like normal attraction, dance attraction doesn't always have much rhyme or reason to it. It's not always the best dancers, it's not always the people you'd pick out of a line-up as the most conventionally attractive. There's some extra factor there that the dance brings out. I doubt I could have predicted beforehand who'd make me feel that way, in a way I might have been able to if dance hadn't been involved.

Of course, as in all arenas of life, it's how you deal with feelings that's the important thing. Perhaps, like me, you say thanks for the dance, you move on, you go home to your other half. Perhaps you ask for another dance (and you remember, of course, to keep your hands to yourself!), you have a chat, you ask if you can see them again. As long as you're prepared to act with all due respect for politeness and personal rights and accept that in all likelihood the dancer who's tugged your groinstrings is just here to dance and might not be similarly interested in you, there's no harm done. 

It's a fact: sometimes dance can be sexy. Just - you know - be cool about it.

She Goes:

Ha. Be cool. Easier said than done!

This post originally stemmed from a hilarious conversation Keith and I had... But this is actually a subject that has been relevant to me since the very beginning.

Put diplomatically; my personal style with dancing is rather playful and tactile. I'm not afraid of bodily contact, be it a slow blues number or high speed bal frenzy. This flirty fearlessness has, however, made me occasionally the target of those who dance with their 'southern compass', as well as giving the entirely wrong impression to leads who haven't danced with me before.

Southern compass leads, by the way, are those that use their familiarity on scene to hit on new follows that they find particularly attractive. Aka navigating dancefloors with their southern compass.... (Do you follow me?!) I got told off by a non-SC lead once when we were watching one initiate the frequently inevitable. I found it hilarious. He didn't. #awkward.

Wrong impression leads have thought I was hitting on them. Nope... But, this has also been annoying when I have on a very rare occassion tried to put the moves on- as those signals normally get taken for my usual level of friendliness. I have long since given up on trying to figure out if any dancers are into me. You'll just have to come and tell me. 

Many follows have warned me off of dating fellow dancers. I can see both sides of their arguments (which mainly centre around leads being just plain weird- but the leads they refer to are men. Hmm, men/weird correlation? Discuss!) In going out with a dancer we wouldn't necessarily have to have good dancefloor chemistry. Although it would be a bonus. Previously I have developed massive dance crushes on leads but pretty much nothing to tell my Nana about. Mainly because I tend to find it difficult to fancy someone I know nothing about. Dancing style can be as insightful as analysing handwriting, but doesn't get you far with strangers!

I once went on a date with a chap who, so keen to raise his (minimal) chances of a second one, that he actually asked me if I'd think him more attractive if he was a dancer. (he seemed to think that dancing/having an appreciation of, was integral to my list of requirements in a mate. Can't think how he got that impression...) Rather diplomatically I said that everyone would be, and that the world needed more dancers. (in case you were wondering my true thoughts, not even a lifetime of private lessons with Skye or Frida could help him!)... A few months later I bumped into him at a swing night. #AWKWARD...

I've also sometimes had dances where I've become AWARE of the existence of the southern compass of my lead. Not all of them were blues dances either! Generally I find it flattering, if amusing (maturity hasn't fully developed yet!) but on one occasion I was actually quite touched. So to speak. It was a beautiful dance we had shared, and he was mildly distressed and embarrassed - asking me to stay in close hold to cover the evidence! We had another dance. It didn't go away. I walked him to the bar.... (and left him there! What kind of girl do you take me for!?)

So yeah. No real conclusion, just more of what you already know. Dancing can sometimes be sexy. Just get over it and stop being so flippin' awkward about it! 

You're Not From Around Here, Are You?

He Goes:

Kiam mi parolas kun homoj en Esperanto (kaj tio okazas malofte), mi-

Hold on, let me start again:

When I (and it happens very rarely) converse with people in Esperanto, I am always amazed how quickly they can work out that I'm a native English speaker. Face to face it's obvious, of course, as I flap around blindly trying to work out the word for the sun:

Me (pointing at the sun): La.. uh... the sun?

Esperantisto (with "can you believe this guy?" expression): La suno.

..but even when I'm chatting in IRC, where they're getting plain text, people can still pick me out as English by my idioms. 

So it goes with dance - I'm pretty sure that people who are long-serving members of the swing community would be able to pick out where I'd learnt (possibly even who from) by watching or dancing with me. The default direction a follower is sent in a swing-out, for instance, how people lead into a back charleston, whether a follow does all the travelling in a swing-out or whether I need to meet her halfway. There are moves that - while well-known all over the world - are so rarely danced that they come to represent a micro-accent where people have learnt them. I learnt Frankie's cha-cha move in Dublin, for instance, and dance it all the time. No-one else here does, so only follows that dance with me regularly go into it without surprise.

Even on a fairly overt level there are clear differences in basic Lindy behaviour and style from one country to another. People everywhere will congregate for a Shim-Sham, obviously, but beyond that preferences in group routines differ: In Reading they're keen on Sing Lim's Charleston Stroll. In West London it's the Tranky Doo. In Dublin they do the Jitterbug Stroll, which I've only once ever seen in London - interesting, because that's where it comes from.

The choreographer of the Jitterbug Stroll, Ryan Francois, recently spoke at TEDx Albertopolis, giving a potted history of the Lindy Hop in which he was... well, dubious about the long-term effects of the internet, his fear being that the ready availability of videos on YouTube would lead to a homogenisation of style across the world. He has a point, but I think his fears are misplaced - mainly because the facts just don't support that at the moment. There are simply too many styles, too many moves, too much music for that to occur. My feeling is that if it were true that exposure to too many other dance-cultures did reduce local "accent", then the whole revival would have been a terrible blow to the diversity of the dance.

This is just my opinion, of course, but I think the benefits of easy exposure to other dancers and their ideas is such a benefit that it would outweigh the risk of homogenisation anyway, and that in practise the downside isn't even happening. When I've danced in Dublin people dance with a faint Dublin accent. When I dance in Reading a faint Reading accent. When in London - well, mostly with whatever accent they came to Britain with! ;) For the moment, at least, it's all good.

She Goes:

Someone once said to me that they could tell who London dancers had learnt with, and which groups they mainly social danced with. Although at the time those remarks got my back up, I can now see the validity in them. My irritation did give way to smugness, as they were unable to tell in terms of my dancing. (see, being a dance floor tart has its perks!)

I very much enjoy dancing in not-London. And not just the big events, I'm talking about the regular social nights for the local scene.

I recently journeyed to a southern not-London to dance with a favourite lead (one of the ones from the list a few posts back), and the local accent there actually left me physically aching! Not for more, but because there was a very surprising amount of arm-leading going on. I'm not going into the rights or wrongs of arm leading versus body leading here, I just have a preference for and following responding technique for the latter. 

I also saw a few moves being busted out that were being styled out in a way I hadn't seen, and witnessed some cool variations. What had tickled me was that the people there had heard 'a dancer from London' was coming (a flattering simplistic description if I ever heard one), and I thought it fun that we could all take delight in each other's norms. If that makes sense.

I was jealous about how well they danced together- familiar with each other's vocabulary and pronunciations, able to anticipate one another. I felt like a newbie again, especially when combined with the social awkwardness that comes with being the stranger in the room.

I was in NYC last week and whenever in town I go back to my spiritual dance home- the studio where I first started to learn. Because of my familiarity with the accent of dancing there I found it easier than the previous example of not-London. But, the most exhilarating dances I had the entire time I was there was with a man who reminded me of dancing in Mecca (Herräng in Sweden, duh/fyi). He didn't have a dance accent although his verbal one indicated his origins from the Czech republic.

I feel like I'm rambling a bit now, but this edition of HGSG was never meant to be am arguement with a final point. But it's interesting, eh! (and supports my favourite metaphor of dancing as language :) )

Sing, Sing, Sing. Or, Just Talk.

Oh, hello! It's been a while! Sorry to have kept you waiting. Summer got in the way- because we actually had one in the UK this year- and we needed time to recharge our talking batteries. Today- a little bit about finding our voices.

...no, no, we mean figuratively. Although this is a pretty good book.

He Goes:

People often talk about partner dancing in vocal terms - call-and-response, for example, the idea that some moves are split up into so that the first half of the move is mainly about the lead, the second half mainly about the follow - a swing-out from close hold, for instance, where typically the follow is staying in place for beats one to four, and moving during beats five to eight. In a call-and-response song or chant, the point is that there are two separate voices, distinguishable and in a sense independent. The response depends on the call, obviously, in the same way that two people may answer the same question differently but their answers will relate to the question. Similarly, the same question can be asked in more than one way. The way that someone chooses to perform a lead (ask a question) or follow one (answer it) is part of one's style, or voice. 

I can't say for sure whether I have a well-defined "voice" in dancing. Since I have been specialising as a lead for many years, I feel like a lot of the learning I've done has been related to not shouting over my partner's voice - and also that I'm less than ten percent of the way through the class notes. I guess, if I think about my lead style, what I try to aim for is the sort of experienced but open tone I like to use in my professional capacity: "I think the best thing to do is this, but if you want to do it differently we can make it work". I want my lead to be unambiguous but not ineluctable - my follows, hopefully, will know exactly where I would like them to go, but not feel like they absolutely have to. That way it's comforting and relaxing (because my follow can just do what I suggest without thinking about it if she or he wants to), but also open enough for someone to put in their own touches, even do something completely different if they want to. 

It's sometimes difficult - there are people I don't know how to dance with, because they have a connection or following style I'm unfamiliar with, and then it's like two people slightly out of key trying to sing together - the words are there, the timing's right, but there's discord all over the place.

As a final point, Roger Love's opus up there at the top of this entry isn't entirely for looks, because of one thing he says quite early on which applies just as well to dance as it does to singing: when you get the chance to set your voice free, do it! Bawl it out, don't swallow it because you're afraid of people hearing (seeing) it! At least fifty percent of style is just owning the other half...

She Goes:

Ha, Keith, you are rather polite in your leading. Maybe less so with me these days. With me it's less 'would you mind awfully going over there', and more 'so, overown ere, fancy it?' The dance equivalent of calling me Miss or by my first name, perhaps.

Finding my voice is increasingly important to me. It sounds so obvious now, but even though I considered dancing to be a conversation between two people, I never really thought about (until recently) the importance of individual voices within that conversation.

I can't pinpoint exactly when my change in thinking happened... But it probably came around the time I was in Mecca. (Herräng, for our newer readers ;) ) I relaxed into my dancing more, and rather than trying to respond in an attractive way to my leads questions, I tried making impromptu suggestions to them. And I feel as though I've had good responses. 

Working on my solo jazz, as well as dipping my toe into other styles has massively helped, as I can make quips more confidently when talking. 

There are some leads who I dance with regularly who used to scare me; they'd lead a move and I wouldn't know what to do at the end of their arm or with the extra two beats that were suddenly looming... And I now consider that to be the equivalent of them asking '...and what do you think?'. Since realising that, our dances have been much more enjoyable. It's nice to be asked my opinion!

Of course there are some leads who don't really converse, and it sometimes feels like I'm being lectured, or that we are reciting a pre ordained list of calls and responses. Some ask a question and then don't wait for, or talk over my response. Some leads I always have the same conversation with. Some always have something new to say. That's not to imply that any of these are good or bad- I'm just saying! 

Following on from Keith's reflection on singing; sometimes I do feel like with certain leads it goes from conversing to singing. I can think of two leads off the bat that spring to mind. (Go back to the post 10 Things I Lindy Love About You for name explanations) 

When I dance with Mr Hat, it's like he starts humming a tune and I pick it up, and we sing the same melody and we instinctively know where the moments are for breaking away from the same note and harmonising.

When I dance with Mr Bounce, sometimes it feels more like he knows the song better than I, but it's still familiar enough to me that I can clap along and I can feel when the opportunity for harmony pops up. 

I think I'll finish with this thought. I love the singing of early Chet Baker, adore the sound of Meschiya Lake, and would give a lot to sing anywhere near as good as Ella. But really, when it comes down to it, I'm very very happy to just sound like me :)

We Go....

He and She Goes;

Ok, we admit it. Summer has distracted us, and so we'll be taking a break until September.

For those of you able to make it, however, Spoon is putting on a one-off night (and it's her birthday too, shhh!) and the more dancers who can make it, the better!

The info is on facebook but as it's an event open to the public anyone should be able to see the details. If the link doesn't work for you though, just comment and we'll post the info up.

https://www.facebook.com/events/180170098824433/

Herrang; Taking Steps With Care

He Goes:

I don't know if I've got F(ear)O(f)M(issing)O(ut) so much as FOB(eing)O(ld). When your facebook feed is full of people eating banana cake in Herräng or gelato in Como or Fish and Chips in Lowestoft or whatever the hell dancers eat in the infernal heat of Thessalonica, it's hard not to think of yourself as past the good days. I know people considerably older than me are going to be/have been at all of those events, but I have always been a terrible traveller and I'm only getting worse as I age. I never normally recommend people to be like me, but in this case I shall make it explicit. Don't be like me.

I'm going to have a little pity party now, with slightly deflated balloons. But it'll soon be over, and then I'll play Dipsy-Doodle ten times and try to get a few more phrases into the Tranky Doo. Have a spoonful of something sweeter while I'm gone.

No, not this. This ↓

She Goes:

Ah man. I hate to add to anyone's FOMO but seriously? If you even have the smallest thought that you may enjoy going, then GO! GOOOO!

Camp veterans will probably smile in a knowing and indulgant way at this post. Ahh, the enthusiasm of a first time camper. And I'm not ashamed of it. I discovered Herräng while it was happening last year (much like Swing Crash in Como), and was unable to go. Oh, how desolately unconsolable I felt!

So this year I decided to tackle it with full-spoons a'blazing. (You should know straight away that one week does not feel like enough. I will do at least two next year.)

I did week 2, and the Slow Dance track (around the intermediate-advanced level). The teachers were Skye and Frida (she is amazing), Peter and Naomi (My swing crush knows no bounds), Stephen and Sara (interesting ideas), Sugar and Barbara (all about the lead molestation!) and Daniel and Åsa (Divine dynamics through and through)

Herrang are quite particular in their musical remit, which was explained to us by Peter, and that is probably why the track was termed Slow Dance, NOT blues/lindy/ballroom. It's the first time the track has been run and all teachers were welcomed to bring their own ideas of what was what to the classes.

Daniel and Åsa's classes were more slow lindy and ballroom flavoured, and encouraged us to think about the dynamics of the dance. Contrasting speeds of figures, contrasting clean and smooth with a dirtier vibe. Although when I write that it sounds a little suspect- they showed that it is possible to have a sensual, almost raunchy slow lindy dance WITHOUT it getting vulgar or gratuitous- which I think a lot of people immediately assume happens with the slower BPM songs. They encouraged us to be a little more laid back, lazy even, with what we did, but not to lose sight of the emotional content of the dance. The main thing I took away from their lessons was to not be afraid to show my personality on the dance floor or to lose myself in the music. Also I learnt, amongst others, a nice move involving a double turn send out, double turn return and lean. Mmm.

Skye and Frida. Wow- to be in the same room as them is to finally understand what all the fuss is about. She is very much in the driving seat when it comes to the teaching, and rightly so I think. I'm sure they both practice for hours a day- but their style- especially hers- is so smooth and fluid it looks as natural as breathing. Who wouldn't want that in their life?! So it shouldn't sound surprising that they wanted us to be focused on momentum (which I was already spending a lot of time thinking about as my only means of transportation was a single speed bike!), and keeping it going even where there was not much to be done. We learnt a lovely two-phrase piece of slow lindy choreography, the majority of which is totally leadable socially. I took from the lessons a heightened awareness of my steps- as Frida so rightly said, 'If you're going to take a step, take it with care'

Peter and Naomi were great fun- him in particular. I've admired his leading from afar (meaning I've got a lot of his stuff saved on youtube) because I was immediately struck from the very first time that he seems like a lead I could click with. And it turns out we have very similar musical tastes too, after a natter after one class. He's a soul brother at heart- and that is just my cup of tea. I particularly appreciated the teaching style- stopping everybody and saying 'no, that's not right, and we're not moving on until it is' was something I actually found to be very positive. There more discussions in their classes, discussing what made a difference in a move and the subtleties of emotions conveyed. As a blues dancer himself he shared some humourous insights- and I agree with him that every dance shuld be nice but not every dance should be sexy! We did some slow lindy figures, and what I took away with me was to remember my sense of humour, and be responsible for my own footwork independently as well as in response to my leads' signals.

Sugar and Barbera were hilarious. Of an older school of dancing, their approach was more along the lines of 'we'll demonstrate it and you work it out for yourself', which was hilarious if a little frustrating. The style was mostly lindy based with some showier elements- and Barbera took special care to make sure the leg of her lead was stroked in a particular move as often as possible. I think that's something we can all get on board with! I think the main thing I learnt from them is to remember to enjoy what I'm doing and molest my lead as much as possible....!!

Stephen and Sara were the teachers I found I didn't get on so well with. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure they're excellent in other formats but I found it difficult to get some of the ideas they were trying to convey, and I wasn't the only one. Being asked by a series of leads what it is they needed to do while I was trying to figure out my own steps was particularly frustrating. However, Stephen is very musical and I liked the fact that they were coming from a more ballroom-y aspect. Foxtrot, waltz, polka and tango steps all popped up in this soulful melting pot of ideas. I took away from their class the confirmation that I want to try tango this year.

I think it's also fair I mention Dawn Hampton. What a lady. She reminded us that we are dancing because we love it- and to be more mindful of that. Dancing without feeling the love is just stepping in time with the music. I got up and danced with her during the lecture I was in of hers. I'm sure the pictures will confirm what I suspect: that I was beaming from ear to ear the whole time. What a lady.

I hardly need add how fun the social dance element of this was. I was rarely in bed before 5am most nights. And oh how I miss it now.

Next year, just you wait! 

"Business"

He goes

"Business" is the term that old vaudevillians used to mean a bit in a script that was left open to the performers for general slapstick. Some bits of a script would be set, some left up to the person on stage to handle as they saw fit. I was thinking last week about whether sometimes it might be better for leads to consider their footwork as "business" or not.

Now obviously the open nature of some moves in lindy hop mean that either partner can just improvise. The extended steps of a swing-out, for instance, are notorious spots for putting in fancy footwork that might have nothing to do with the "normal" steps, or what your partner is doing. So once you're comfortably social dancing you can to some extent do what you like with your feet. I don't have anything more to say about that that isn't super-obvious.

Also, I'm not going to argue that it isn't better for us leads to learn both our footwork and our lead if we can. That would be madness.

But what I am thinking - and I don't know why I'm only really understanding this now - is that if I can only learn one part of a move in a class, it should probably be the lead. I should do the lead, and just tell my feet: business.

I've always (which is to say, before I was swing-dancing) been keen on learning how to properly lead rather than just going through a choreography, but it's only in classes with swing-style partner rotation that you realise how important it is for the poor follows. If I fail to learn my footwork it just means that I can't do a particular move. If I fail to learn the lead, there's a whole bunch of follows that get nothing from me, and I have to hope that some other lead is doing better than I am.

There are moves where the lead and the footwork are the same thing, and in those I guess I just have to suck it up and learn, but they tend to be simpler leads anyway. And footwork is quite an important part of keeping time with the music. But in general in a social dance people aren't looking at my feet, they're looking at my partner. If I give her everything she needs to dance, I can probably just forget about footwork. Indeed, late in the night when my legs are tired I can still dance, but if I'm so tired my lead starts to get lazy, everything falls apart..

Nothing profound, and I guess there will be quite a few leads reading this who roll their eyes and murmur 'well duh', but it was on my mind a bit this last week. Now over to Spoon, who is probably dancing giddily in Sweden as I type this...

"I don't know what I was expecting"

She Goes

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The One Where Keith Takes The Lead (Or Not, Arf!)

He Goes:

Since I'm predominantly a lead, for me learning to follow is largely about empathy improvement - that I'll get better as a lead if I understand what it feels like to be a follow. I guess some men (Apologies: I'm going to be a bit gender role normative in the next few paragraphs, but I hope not offensively so) do learn to follow simply because they want to be able to enjoy the follow experience, some because they feel that learning only one half of the dance is somewhat unbalanced, and some out of solidarity with their female friends who are often made to learn to lead whether they want to or not. I don't think those are bad reasons to learn - in fact, I think they're all probably much better reasons than mine. But I think it's reasonable to say that most men who learn how to follow do, like me, justify it with the thought that it will make them a better lead.

So has the little following I've done helped me, and how? Well, the first answer is simple, if unsatisfying: I can't say - my follows will have to be the judge. The second is less simple.

First of all, it's given me an acute (and perhaps uncomfortable) insight into how being a man helps with being a lead. Now, this is not to say that I think the lead role is essentially male! Just that the way I lead and therefore expect to be led is helped by the fact that I'm bigger (taller possibly, certainly more massive) than most of my follows. It's really easy to lead someone into a turn by just moving your arm if your follow moves with you because she doesn't have a choice. My mass makes it easy for me to lead people in fairly simple moves, but it also lets me off learning how to lead subtly, I think. When I'm following my leads generally don't have the same lazy option I do, so I end up missing leads or misinterpreting them. That's made me appreciate how hard following is if you have to move between leads with forceful and gentle leads, and it fills me with admiration for how leads who are much smaller than me can do the same job (and in many cases a much better one) without the benefit of sheer weight to help them lead. It's also important to remember because there are plenty of follows who can't do their best work if they're not given a light lead occasionally.

Second, I've learnt how important it is to give the right signals as a follow, and perhaps sometimes why it's impossible to tell the first time you dance with someone how good they are. When I'm following and I'm led into the open position I sometimes think it might be worth trying out some swivels.

Mistake.

I'm no good at swinging-out as a follow. I can kind-of, maybe, just-about do the steps if I really concentrate, but most of the time I can't, and styling? Forget about it. So doing swivels instead of a rock-step isn't just a bit of harmless fun, it's my hips writing a cheque my feet can't cash. When a lead (particularly a lead who can follow well her-/himself) sees that, what she's really seeing is me making a promise: you can lead me into a swing-out.

Now, I'm not saying that I get false-signals like that from follows myself - in fact, it's more the opposite: that sometimes follows understate how capable they are, possibly to avoid getting led into complicated moves before they've figured out whether the person they're dancing with is capable of them. As a lead you can try moves out to test your follow and work out what moves you should be leading (e.g. I find a lead-in-front promenade is often a good way of scoping out if I can safely lead someone into a swing out). As a follow you can't do that, so you have to get your information about your partner's ability as it comes to you, and hope that enough pieces of the jigsaw are delivered that you can build up a usable picture.

Last (for the time being) - I realise how difficult it is to keep time if your lead is off. It's not impossible, but it's quite an effort of will, and since most of my brain when I'm following is already dedicated to not doing a lead's footwork, the whole thing sometimes disintegrates into a furious mess. Now, most of the people who are willing to lead me are good enough that this isn't a problem, but it does happen, and my god is it hard to dance when it does! Next time I'm dancing to some crazy jazz song with an obscure beat, I think perhaps rather than manfully struggling to find it I might just turn to my partner, make my apologies, and ask her for a little help...

She Goes:

New job. Newness. Herräng. Packing. Dancing. Dancing. Can't focus. Bleurgh!

The Hips Don't Lie

He Goes:

Well, yes, ummm... hips. It's entirely possible (although not really) that the reason I favour Lindy over my ballroom dances is that hip action isn't quite so necessary. I get it - hip action is great in some dances, there's no getting over seeing some ace hip work in a Rumba or a Cha-Cha - but as a traditionally-constructed man I'm not sure I could point out my hips if I saw myself in silhouette. Instead there's a straight line that descends from my armpits to my ankles.

Don't get me wrong - they're in there somewhere. I just think I'm better at a dance where they provide utilitarian rather than decorative function, where to quote Jeffrey Murdock: "Hey, it's just your basic hinge".

For more on male hips, I pass you over to my colleague....

Hey Baby, where are your watermelons now?

She Goes:

I've figured it out. I *finally* understand why a lot of lindy hopping follows are often lost to The Dark Side (aka blues dancing!) It's because follows are able to dance with leads who know how to use their HIPS! (This is where I'd normally make some sort of smutty remark or at least imply it. I'll leave that to you this week.)

I'll use myself as an example. Picture me as a young teenage spoon, heart still unwounded by the cruelty of this word, eternally optimistic, and being ruthlessly conditioned by the dark cinematic arts into believing that men can be sensational dancers, everything will come good in the end, and life can have a happy ending.

Yes. I'm talking about Dirty Dancing.

The film that has turned generations of young women into puddles the moment *that* Solomon Burke track comes on. It's called 'Cry To Me'. You know, the one where she goes to his cabin, he's all moody and shit, she asks him to dance and they end up gettin' dowwwwwwwwn. Aw yeah. For the guys out there, if you don't know it, get thyself to youtube right now. You're welcome.

This is why I love blues dancing. Not because it makes me feel like a young teenager who hasn't quite cottoned on to what feeling hot-under-the-collar means- it's because I grew up wanting to be able to convey the idea of a deep and earnest emotional connection through the medium of dance.

(Disclaimer: I'm not saying I don't have elements of that in lindy. I'm just saying I find a lot of emotional depth in the blues)

Having also had an amazing all night blues-fest on the Sunday of EBI (a contributing factor in the late arrival of this weeks post, my apologies) I have also come to the conclusion that blues dancers seem to be, for the most part, a whole lot more relaxed about musical genres compared to my hopping brothers and sisters.

I understand this may enrage some of you. I'm sorry. But the fact of the matter is that I have lost count of the times I've heard someone make disparaging remarks about a lindy DJ's particular taste in music. The only thing I have come close to in similarity from a blues dancer was on Sunday when, after an hour of dancing to electro-dub-blues (or blues-step?) he gave up and had a nap. See? Super chilled!

Dance Like Nobody's Watching, Especially You

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Six weeks ago my Balboa partner Nell and I walked into the first class of the five-week course, and the lead-instructor came up to introduce himself.

"Are you together?" he asked.

"Yes," we said.

"Good, so you can practise at home in the kitchen."

"Oh, no," we said, embarrassed, "not like that. Not together-together."

Of course, Nell's embarrassment might well have been 100% over the misunderstanding. Mine was 50% that and 50%: "at home in the kitchen?" The simple fact is that I am a terrible fool to myself for practising outside of class. There are all sorts of things I promise myself I'll practise and then don't. Remember when I said I'd try to learn the Tranky-Doo? Well guess which guy has two thumbs and doesn't know the Tranky-doo.

Actually, it's not quite so bad. I've learnt some things by practising them at home. My trickeration steps are hardly perfect, but they're a lot better than they would have been if I hadn't been trickerating away like crazy while waiting for kettles to boil. I've done Balboa basics in ballroom classes while listening to the teacher explaining Quickstep steps. But it's a difficult thing. I have a feeling that what I'm doing is faintly ridiculous, and that outside of the circumscribed area where dance occurs I should be doing other things. I can't know what I look like when I'm practising, though. To find that out I do actually look faintly ridiculous I have to see it on film.

That's not to say that I'm upset with how I dance, but it's hard to see yourself on film without suddenly spotting that your posture is very different from how you imagine it in your mind - much more upright, in my case, so that I'm practically standing up straight. A move that feels good in my head suddenly appears clunky, but on the other hand I can see why it's clunky. I can see arms that aren't held at the right height, leads that are a beat too early or late. 

At least there's a pleasant slice of bread to go onto the stark filling of self-awareness in the sandwich of dance videos, which is seeing how good your partner looks. It seems weird to say that, since you're looking at your partner a lot when you dance (and if you're not, you should be!), but sometimes you can't see the wood for the trees - you can feel how smooth a swing-out is, but until you actually see it side-on....

She Goes

 I have a confession. I barely practice at home. Yes I know it will help me with footwork abilites. Yes I know it will help me go from being a good follow to a really good follow. But apart from the odd triple step drill and precious hours snatched with a lead for feedback loops... I ain't got nuffin to show you.

In my defence I haven't really got much time to, mainly becaise I'm always out dancing (!) but that's no excuse. Also I live in a tiny shoebox on the top floor of an old building, and everything creaks when I step on it. Combine that with me being home mostly just long enough to eat and sleep, I would doubtlessly get another snotty note under my door if I dare practice anything after midnight. (My first night in my place was a Sunday night and I was playing tetris with, well, my life, and the person downstairs was pretty indignant about the whole affair...)

That doesn't leave me with much time to go on. I sometimes do the odd step at work but it's not really appropriate or convenient.

I am trying to be a lot more mindful when social dancing though. The documentary maker who followed me around last year has me on film saying something about how I don't have to think about what my feet are doing.... *cringe*! Six months on and I'm of the opposite opinion.

What I'm currently trying to be mindful of while dancing is not fully extending my right elbow, keeping my left arm connection soft, responsive and not too heavy, and keeping my feet under me for everything, particularly swing outs. (It's the '-and-4' bit mainly at the moment)

The other thing I'm trying to work on is responding to those leads who have particularly gentle lead signals. There's two I can think of straight away, both of them awesome dancers. I'm embarrased to admit it but I've almost stopped asking them to dance because I get so upset with myself and then I get tense when we do dance and then I miss signals and then and then and then... and so it continues. I just need to man the flip up!!

It IS important to practice. Having seen myself dancing on film I know that I don't look as awesome as I think I might. I have the opportunity to go and practice with a group in a mirrored studio but it conflicts with prior commitments. Dammit! In the meantime I guess I'll just have to up my game on tube platforms and at bus stops. And practice non-footwork based stuff in the mirror at home when I can.

Don't cut corners, kids. Do your homework!

The Standard Flip (A.K.A Lindy-Love V2.0)

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This week the reverse of  last week - what leads am I impressed by at the moment, and which follows does Spoon have her eye on! This is a tricky subject for me, since I'm generally not spending a lot of time watching leads doing things that are salutory, I'm usually watching leads do things that I'm trying not to do. Still, I can say that there are a few people I have historically stolen / have recently stolen / am about to steal some moves from:

• Mr. Approach: None of this tedious "walking across the floor and asking" business for Mr. Approach. Back when I first learnt Lindy I was always impressed by the fact that he was dancing over to his potential partner, getting in the rhythm in preparation. I stole that.
• Mr. Tweed: His neat, tidy leading style is already half-way to balboa, and it took me about three months to work out how to steal one of his simple lead turns. Now I can hardly go a dance without doing it.
• Mr. Slick: Recently spotted coming out of a jam circle with that move where you step your legs apart and sort of hip-thrust/hop your way out (hard to describe without saying "jerk yourself off to the side", but yeah, no). The minute I think I can do this without looking totally ridiculous, I'm stealing it.
• Ms. Look-out-behind: A good reminder to look over your shoulder a little and be extra aware of where you're swinging into! I don't need to steal this, but I should certainly be remembering it more (also the only person to appear on both this and last week's list).
• Mr. Portfolio: Like a rolodex of moves, when I'm dancing near him I can always rely on him to start doing a move I hadn't thought of and that I can go into in a few phrases time. Handy!

You dance like a boss.... LIKE....A....BOSS!

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I thought of flipping last weeks post on its head after feeling compelled to give a fellow follow some appreciation last night at a social. (And y'all should know by now I'm big into sharing the love and giving compliments where they are due!)

She just looked super-freakin'-smooth in her dancing and I was totally digging on her choice of outfit. It wasn't vintage, it wasn't high maintenence, just sexy but casual and I had to give her a high five. Which went down a treat I must say. What chick doesn't enjoy getting props from other chicks?!

But I digress. Please find below a short list of follows who I totally admire:

Ms Unshakeable: Always looking calm and in control no matter who leads you, with an amazing repertoire of moves and under-the-radar style (which I love!)... If I'm not dancing I'm probably watching you and trying to absorb!

Ms Technique: If I could dance half as fast as you can and with the same level of technique I would be a very happy follow. It's simple- you kick ass.

Ms Mellow: Oh lady, you have such a mellow style! If I'm not having a good night sometimes all it takes is for me to watch you have a good dance and I'm in the zone. Low key but stylish in all the right places- you remind me to have fun when it's getting a bit too serious :)

Ms Studious: How, how HOW are you always dancing in heels? Seriously! You make a girl want to ignore the aching feet and get her wiggle on. (FYI for those of you not in the know, that's a pleasant side effect of dancing in heels- smaller steps and increased levels of twist-twist ;) )

Ms Wave: I don't think we've ever spoken (and it's unlikely that you read this, but still!) Your posture and poise when dancing is fantastic. I feel like a hunchback by comparison. I try and stand and a little straighter and dance a little taller whenever you're in the room.

I hope you've all enjoyed the last fortnight of lindy-love. I just think it's wonderful when a fellow dancer says something complimentary to you about your dancing- whether it's someone you regularly bounce with, someone you've just danced with for the first time, or someone you've only ever watched and admired. (not in a stalky way, obv!) Please don't be afraid to give a little love. You never know, you might just make someone's day

:-D

10 Things I Lindy-Love About You

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Today a tricky challenge from Spoon - writing about some of our favourite dance partners at the moment, without naming names

I'm blessed with a great abundance of amazing follows, and cursed with a short memory and a chronic inability to focus on details, so more than one person may see themselves in any given item on my list. It's all good, though, so if you think you're in there, I agree! (Although for the sake of an even distribution of love, I won't add my longest-running dance partner into the list - she gets a special list of her own)

In alphabetical order:

• Ms. Above And Beyond: takes a simple lead for a free turn and adds in another as a bonus! I love being surprised.
• Ms. Air: It takes a lot of trust to let someone lead you upside-down, and she adds on to that trust a deceptive lightness of step and a keen attitude.
• Ms. Class Clown: It's nice to laugh with your dance partner, even better to be able to laugh with them while we're doing our steps on opposite sides of the room.
• Ms. Crazy Moves: is right - you can't take Lindy too seriously. Crazy shimmies, some mad-as-hell dance moves, and a laugh for any occasion.
• Ms. Dance Geek: As a ballroom dancer, it's nice to discuss other dances even when the only overlap is swing, and to be able to sometimes put those discussions into immediate practise with new twists on old dance moves.
• Ms. Passion: "I would like to die dancing". What can one add to that? Except to say that she's a quick study on the dance floor, too. 
• Ms. Queen of the Scene: I would say she's probably forgotten more about swing dancing than I've ever learnt, but I get the impression from her dancing that she hasn't forgotten anything. Another great one for cheeky insolence in response to leads!
• Ms. Solo Charleston: We've only danced together a few times, but I could understand immediately how she could feel the music enough to lead a 50 people at once. 
• Ms. Swing-out: There's no sense in implying that any of my current favourites don't swing out like bosses, but there are some swing-outs that are so clean that they're a single bold stroke drawn on a canvas.
• Ms. Touchstone: Knows my moves like the back of her hand! Quick to follow a dodgy lead, quick to laugh when it all goes wrong. Lightning!

The problem with a list like this is not just saying the same thing over and over again! It's enjoying the dance. Follows who love to dance are the greatest follows, and I am lucky enough to know so many of them. Keep it up, all of you, you're all wonderful, and thank you for the dances!

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I just thought it might be nice to focus on the people we dance with rather than the dance itself for a change! I certainly feel super lucky to be able to dance with so many amazing leads.

So this week, for you my dear gentlemen of lindy hop, a short list of what I'm particularly enjoying about the way we dance together.

(I was going to give you all Reservoir Dog names but I had too many leads to appreciate- see, spoilt!)

Mr Bounce:  Excellent and eloquent dance vocabulary aside, I'm always secretly a little suprised to see you walking normally because you, sir, have the most amazing bounce in your dance! Even at the end of a night when you've been hitting the D-floor hard all night. *approving nod*

Mr Humour: We have an amazing dynamic when we dance- I really feel like we're having a conversation. Mostly with you doing all the talking (always with the talking!) but I'm able to chip my two pence in. *beaming smile*

Mr Not-London: From our very first dance you were instantly one of my favourites. Your playful flirty humour and musicality levels are awesome. That look on your face when I suprise you with something or you lead something I've not done but still follow it- adorable.  And you're cute as hell. Keep it up! *winks* 

Mr Whip: Without a doubt, you lead one of the best swingouts I've ever had the pleasure to be on the receiving end of. And you say nice things to me when we dance. What more does a girl need?! *thumbs up*

Mr Boss: One of the most plentiful sources of mid-dance banter! I think we've really grown into our dynamic and developed a lot in the last year. I've gone from being slightly nervous when we dance to feeling super confident with you- and you can take my teasing. *High five!*

Mr Shoes: After a few months of us not really dancing so much I feel like we've reconnected- and not wanting to sound like a patronising cow- I really feel a change in your leading, in a good way. It's much clearer and firmer. You feel more confident and I respond to that. And you love to discuss the nitty gritty at the end of a night. *Swing Spouse!*

Mr Fan: It's only recently we've started dancing more regularly on the social scene, but I'm really struck by how smooth and mellow your tone is. You've also got this cool side by side charleston variation that I just love. Even when lead by others, I think of it as one of your signature moves. A good dance with you makes me feel super fly. And you're also cute as hell. *win!*

Mr Anytime: You're a hoot! You give me a lot of eye contact and you are not afraid of scaring the hell out of me! The turn variations (oh my god the spinning and the turning), murmurs of encouragement, and general banter levels are excellent. *big grin*

Mr Hat: Our dance conversations are awesome, and have been so from the very beginning. I really feel like you read me, and that I can read you. I have absolute trust in everything you lead. Not dancing two in a row has never been an option and never will be! *hugs*

Mr Coiled Spring: When we have a kick-ass dance I feel like I've genuinely achieved something important. Your energy levels an tone can be pretty full on and I expect a challenge whenever we dance. You push me and give me great feedback, which makes me feel like a great dancer! *high ten*

Getting to the end of the 10 and there are still so many I could mention! I'm so thankful to have you all, whether you are someone I only see socially or someone I'm friends with (or becoming friends with) too. Suffice to say, if we've danced together more than once in this lifetime then I am a big fan of your work!

Ok, gushing love fest over for now :)

LSF; Ninjas In London

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That feeling when you're doing something else all weekend, but your facebook feed is full of cryptic references to dances, competitions, and workshops that you're not at. All your friends are coming home late or watching amazing routines.

Oh well - I'm getting old. I can't go to every dance event. I just have to accept that.

...or do I?

Keith gets to work on his cloning machine...

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FOMO- it's actually a squirrel. It sneaks up on you, watching, head tilted. Then the nibbling starts. 'Oh, I wish I was at <insert desirable dance event here>'... Then nibbling becomes munching. 'I WISH I'd gone to <insert desirable dance event> Ah man!'... And before you know it, munching becomes full on chomping and it consumes you. 'WHY am I not there, WHY didn't I make space in my calendar/bank account to go, I'm missing out on seeing X, dancing with Y and hearing Z. Wahhhh!'

Your Facebook feed becomes a source of irresistible envy of the car crash variety; you want to know but you don't want to know! No I don't want to see pictures or YouTube clips... Ok just this one... (Etc etc)

LSF was a mixed bag for me, I must admit. Friday night I was torn between kicking myself for not entering any of the comps (enhanced by people exclaiming surprise that I hadn't- flattering yet infuriating!) and being so full of pride for all my friends who entered. I could have burst with joy.

I was chomping at the bit to dance on Saturday to make up for the lack of social dancing the precious night. However as I had a friend taken ill that evening I was quite distracted for the first part of it, and it took me a while to settle in once I'd got her packed off in a cab home.

I had some lovely dances though- and I got to dance with a swing rock star. Y'all know Kevin, right? ;) It was smooth and fun and I'm happy that I didn't embarrass myself! 

My highlight of the night wasn't actually a dance of my own though. It was watching a friend dance with Evita- he was ermayzingggg! When I watch people dance I look at the dance dialogue between them rather than specific moves- and it was cracking! She's clearly a super fun follow to dance with- she looks so receptive and full of joy- and he was busting out some killer moves. LIKE A BOSS! You know who you are dude. That night actually be my high point of the weekend. 

Sunday was good, but in all honesty I didn't like the venue so much- I found the sprung floor annoying once it got super busy. Plus I'd buggered up my favourite dancing pumps the night before and was sulkily using my others. And I enjoyed the band- but they had zero energy in their performance, which I found to be a let down. Saturday's band had more energy- and they were sat down for a lot of their set! 

The after party met my needs though- I stayed upstairs throughout and got my blues on! Drank wine, had rum shots, ate sweets, and got dipped and swayed. Win. PLUS the last 30 minutes were soul-funk-tastic which was awesome! I finished my weekend dancing to Marvin Gaye with a wonderful lead, and went home smiling.

Squirrel courtesy of Chris Battle. (chrisbattleillustration.blogspot.co.uk)

I Like Surprise, I Like Breaks

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"Sometimes," said my dance partner as we walked back to her bus-stop, "if my lead isn't doing anything with the breaks in the music, I'll just go ahead and do my thing. Not if it's in the middle of a swing-out or something like that, but you know, if he's not going to do anything I'll just do it myself. Is that rude?"

Sadly and happily, there are no coloured belts in Lindy that let you know who's an appropriate "opponent" for you at any given time. It would be useless if there was, anyway, because sometimes a dance couple just doesn't gel - even when they have the same number of hours on the dance floor, go to the same classes, and would be perfect for each other if the world worked that way. So it's pretty rare that you end up dancing with someone who's exactly as good as you. Almost always you're dancing with someone who knows a lot less than you do or someone who knows a lot more, and it's often impossible to tell before the dance, sometimes even during it.

As a lead dancing with someone who isn't as good as you your task is simple: give them a fun dance, work out what they know, maybe lead them into something simple but unexpected if you think you can do it safely. If you're dancing with someone better than you, though - well, you just have to do what you can and enjoy the ride!

I love it when a follow puts in some crazy steps. Sometimes you get a dance with someone who knows the music better than you, and gets the rhythm into her swing-outs or her swivels. Sometimes you get someone who takes your lead and runs away with it - turning a tuck-turn into a double-spin, for instance. Sometimes, if you're paying attention, you get a variation that you can copy, and just once in a blue moon your follow does something that gives you a little insight for a new lead you can do.

I can understand it might be slightly flustering for a new lead if the follow doesn't do something they're expecting, but once your flight feathers have grown in there's no excuse for not being delighted when your follow does something fantastic! We're always being told that our job is to make our follows look good, who can complain when they take the initiative and do it themselves?

It's not rude. It's amazing.

Joanna is surprised by Keith's advanced shoe-study
techniques. (Picture © Michael de Selincourt)

She Goes

There comes a time in a follow's life when she becomes more confident in her dancing. She doesn't get The Fear so much when dancing socially (and may not get it at all except with certain leads) and is not only happier with her technique and musicality, but feels as though she's ready to inject some personality into her style.

I say DO IT!

A lead I know once got my heckles up by saying he could tell where a follow had taken lesson by the way she danced. But in some respects he's right. I can see stylistic similarities with certain follows I know who go to certain lessons. It's not painfuly obvious, but I recognise a lift of an arm here, a twist-twist there....

Break out of the box! Take what you've learnt and make it your own. Make your dance a conversation, not a physical reaction to your leads' soliloquy! Show off a bit! It's fun for you, the leads love it, and anyone who happens to watch you at that moment will enjoy it too. Sometimes your lead will respond to what you do by mimicking a movement- and then you have a little in-joke forming mid-dance. I cherish things like that :)

Some leads actively give their follows plenty of space to do their own thing. That can be a little terrifying at first, especially if that's not quite where you are in terms of your own dancing yet. But, stick with it. The simplest move done with a playful enthusiasm looks far better than something complicated done with an air of uncertainty.

And remember, it doesn't necessarily have to be about showing off jazzy steps at the break in the music, basic things like playing with height dynamics, playing with half/double time, keeping your spare hand out and visible, hell, even pulling faces at your lead even counts! (Well, it does in my book...)

Some guidance on injecting personality on moves you're confident with-

1. Style it out.
2. Look like you know what you're doing at all times.
3. If all else fails see rule 1.

Now go out there, and have some fun!

They Look

Our picture today was taken at yesterday's Sunday Mess-Around by Michael de Selincourt, you can see more here.

Bal Me, Brother, With a Solid 4

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"Goodbye!" says my dance partner to another couple as they leave the classroom. "It was nice meeting you!" Then, sotto voce but in the same sing-song tone she adds: "it was weird rubbing myself against you!"

We've come to learn balboa in the kitchen of a pub in north London, our feet scuffling over the checkerboard tiles - or rather tile, since we're trying to follow the teacher's imperative: "smaller steps, smaller. If you think you're doing small enough steps already, try to make them smaller."

It's a strange dance, balboa - although there's nothing unusual in its parts. I've danced ballroom, I'm used to a more upright hold from waltz, I'm used to a close hold from tango, I'm used to the way in rumba one tries to slide the feet across the floor rather than lifting them. But all of these things together are new to me, and grafting them onto the songs that I already know and the 8-beat phrasing of swing dancing feels odd.

Everyone in the class, as it rotates, asks whether I do lindy, and when I say yes and ask them the same question they nod. Balboa is one of those specialist dances, it seems, that no-one ever comes to first. They hear about it from other swing dancers, or they see a couple pressed in close hold on a crowded dance floor, hardly moving at all as their feet skip to some high-tempo song, and they ask a friend: "what's that?" When I was back in Dublin I used to have a rule - when I saw more than one couple dancing balboa, there was no point in me trying to keep up with the music.

It feels odd being so upright to music that I'm used to dancing to in a more relaxed, bent-legged style (although I admit that when I get lazy I tend to stand upright, but balboa still seems more rigid than that). It feels awkward to me not to be able to automatically adjust the hold to one that I think will be more useful. I wonder, while I'm dancing with my dance partner later on, if the kitchen staff watching us are enjoying the dance or not. I've heard balboa called a dancers' dance, and it's easy to see why - from an observer's point of view there's none of the exuberance of lindy. I can watch balboa and appreciate its cleanness and the precision of the steps, but I can't imagine a crowd ever going mad in the way they would while watching lindy-hoppers doing a lamppost aerial.

To the dancers, though, even those like me who are capable of essentially the basic and perhaps one other move, it does feel like a dance (this may seem strange, but there are dances - Slow Foxtrot is one for me - that just feel like going through the motions, an exam more than a dance). I struggle through the class, but in the practise time afterwards, reunited with my partner, we get it right - so right in fact that the teacher comes over to compliment her on her footwork. I don't think I'll be giving up lindy in its favour, but I can see myself enjoying a few balboa dances a night when prevailing conditions allow...

Rocky: Totally nailed that basic step

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Ah, Balboa. *Stares off into distance in thoughtful manner*

I can be led into it, this foot origami, weight shift trickery, but after a taster lesson I actually found it harder to do! Although I'm not sure if that reflects worse on me or my teachers.

I'm shooting in the dark with this post as it's Keith doing a course without me. Sniff. S'fine. This is what happens when you encourage someone to try something new... They try it with someone new too! But I think the follow he's doing it with has a height advantage on me. Fair play.

I completely agree that it's a dancer's dance. Having a bal-breather mid way through a super fast song can be a life saver! And it's also useful as a styling point. I think. But I think the most useful part of the dance, as a whole, is that it helps you wrap your mind around body leading. There's no scope for sneak peeks at the feet!

It also seems terribly English to look at! 'Ah yes, we are pressed up against each other, ah, yes, ahem, oh lovely following there, yes, la la la, ahem, yes, lovely weather we're meant to be having this weeekend', and so on and so forth. Go on, narrate the next bal dance you watch. 

It doesn't set my heart on fire the way lindy or blues does. There's less scope for 'conversation' (in my experience so far) because you're constantly close hold and so focused on your core and weight that there leaves little else. (Which explains why dancers doing bal look so bloody serious! They're concentrating!)

Keith- can you show me what you've learnt when you come back to our regular night? ;)

LLX; The Home Bartender's Songbook

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I am quite English. I remain reserved whenever possible, and I find it by and large extremely possibly due to the fact that I've practised it all my life - which is to say, even when I am very impressed by something, I keep that a little bit to myself. I am so English that I have never, for instance, "whoop!"-ed someone while applauding.

...until this Saturday night. Okay, as whoops go it wasn't a great one. I'm never going to be an audience member in an American talk show, but it was something as far as I was concerned. The cause of this uncharacteristic exuberance? The London Lindy Exchange's Saturday evening party, and specifically Gordon Webster and Friends, who at the end of their second set played the most amazing version of "I like pie, I like cake" that I have ever heard - that, I might hyperbolically argue, any living human has ever heard.

I have half-heartedly moaned in past about how live band songs are long compared to recorded ones, but I was unaware that when a song goes past a certain length it acquires mythical properties. I would guess that "I like pie, I like cake" went on for what must have been fifteen minutes, and kept getting more and more astounding. It was fast to start with, got faster, got slower, got even faster, appeared to end, continued, got slower, quieter, louder, quieter. It defeated almost all the dancers - I had to drop out before even the half-way point of the song due to a stitch in my side that felt like I'd been punched in the ribs. My hands were sore from clapping, and I could see that I was not alone. Bravo, Gordon Webster and Friends, bravo. You broke the dance floor in the best way possible. And you made me whoop.

(In smaller matters, I wore my DubLX entry bracelet - hand woven by the Dublindy team - to the party, and was pretty impressed when the guy handing out the LLX entry tags recognised it... Little things!)

She Goes

You don't need me to bang on about how excited I was to have a weekend long Lindy exchange on my doorstep. Anyone who has met me or read this blog will probably guess by themselves that I was virtually rubbing my thighs and salivating at the thought!

Friday night I played it very cool, volunteering in the cafe all evening. I had to work on Saturday you see, and with this in mind I enforced a dance ban on myself, I didn't bring my dance shoes, my water bottle or a change of top. I even stubbornly refused to go and watch the band, knowing my hard line would crumble quicker than a digestive dunked in hot tea.

I did allow one- and just one- dance before I left. It was absolutely bang on. And then I had to run away into the night, already impatient for Saturday!

And Saturday. Oh my. I got there nice and early, around 8.30, to make good use of the spacious (and very nice) dance floor. But then suddenly, it was 4am! I mean, how did that happen? One minute I was fresh as a daisy, the next I had used up my spare tops and was a hot mess searching for that elusive last snack bar before the long bus ride home.

Sunday lunchtime I woke up A C H I N G and pretty flipping smug about it. The smugness increased when I realised that I wasn't on cafe duties as I'd thought, just helping set up the after party. Yess, more time for dances!

And the after party... Well. If I told you I have no FOMO about missing the afternoon send off today, would that indicate how absolutely satisfied and overflowing with swung-over dafterglow I am?

As for the music... I've said before how much I love live music, and this weekend was no exception. I'm lucky to be friends with some of the incredibly talented musicians who played- and I fell in musical love with them all over again. Watching how they interact with other musicians that they don't normally play with, and still sounding tighter than a, well, anyway... Excellent work, chaps.

An unexpected cameo of the lead singer/trumpet player from the band who played at my first ever social dance (back in my NYC days!) was the cherry on the cake.

Such a great weekend. Very happy spoon.

He Suggests

Interested in watching a comedy set in the London Lindy-Hop scene? Perhaps in funding it? Perhaps even in appearing in some of the dance scenes? Of course you are. Then you should follow this link: Leads and Follows

How Many Shops Would A Workshop Shop If A Workshop Could Hit The Shops?

He Goes

Ooof! I ache all over. Partly it's sleeping on the floor on Saturday night, but mainly it's the workshop I did on Saturday afternoon. While my muscles are tired though, my brain is alive again, out of the mood indigo it was in the week before last (perhaps that's overstating the case a little, let's say mood lilac).

One hour classes are pretty good for learning, it must be said. There's probably so much information in an hour that grasping anything more before going on to social dancing is a fool's errand. But it's good every now and again to tackle things that can't be learnt in an hour - to get in-depth and just drill something over and over again, if for no other reason than to stretch the brain's stomach so that next time you have to digest a heavy lesson you're up for it.

Last weekend (in between grumbling about stagnation and writing about it) I went to an informal little solo Charleston workshop in Reading, and handful of people in a circle learning some steps they could do in a jam circle. This weekend just gone, I went to a beginner's aerials workshop: a larger handful of people learning some tricks they could do in a jam circle. Really, perfectly identical in many ways - it's just that the first workshop left me feeling all loose and relaxed, and the second like I'd aged thirty years overnight!

Actually, in lots of ways all workshops are the same. A smaller group than in class, a more dedicated group (because they've taken the step of going to a workshop), a faster-moving group (both because they're usually not absolute beginners - although some might be - and because the teachers are able to focus more on individual problems). Neither of the workshops I went to rotated partners - the first because there were no partners, the second because ideally you have to know someone reasonably well to let them grab you round the thigh and lift you into the air. But when there is rotation, the smaller group also means that individual problems seem to get wrinkled out quicker than in a class.

There's a sort of downside to workshops - sort of, kind of maybe, but not really. Let me explain. With one exception (when I was going to a beginner's workshop that I didn't really need to go to because I was going with someone), I've never left a workshop having nailed everything that was taught in it. I did not look slick doing the solo Charleston moves by the end of that workshop. When it was time to leave the Aerials workshop my partner and I still hadn't managed to pull off a Lamppost. At the time, it's a tiny bit disappointing. But you know what? These things take time. We got close, and what we did do? Amazing stuff. I'm not going to grumble that I couldn't manage 100% of the things I was taught. I'm only human, after all. And I remember things that I couldn't get in past workshops that just clicked one day, sometimes months later. 

One day, lamppost, one day!

Homework for the aerials workshop is less energetic

She Goes

Well, I haven't been able to go to any workshops because I have to work on Saturdays. Contractually obliged kinda thing.

THIS IS MY SULKING FACE!

I want to do aerials workshops. And jazz workshops. And Big Apple workshops. But they're never on a Sunday. *pout*

I'm hoping that going to week two of Herrang will help remedy the pouting. (...nope, still pouting. But I'll keep you posted...)

Taking Steps to Taking Better Steps

He Goes

As we were walking towards the train station last week, I was having a little self-deprecating moan and wondering whether I was stagnating as a dancer. Perhaps it was the magic word "stagnate", with its connotations of weed-strangled waterholes, but young Spoon suggested that maybe my trouble was constancy of venue.

"You're a big fish in this pond," she argued.

Now, there are objections I could make to this point. I'm at best a medium-sized fish in my usual pond. Perhaps a small lobe-fin, or (since I also have the ballroom world to inhabit) an average-sized amphibian. The stately axolotl, maybe, since I fear growing up and wish to avoid it even at the cost of ridiculous feathery gills growing out of my ne-

You know what, I've let this metaphor run away with me a bit. Backing up.

There's obviously still a lot of room for me to grow where I usually dance - there's still a tremendous amound for me to learn, and I enjoy it so even if there was nothing to learn I'd probably still go there. But I suppose there's something to be said for swimming out into deeper waters.

It's a good test of whether one can actually lead, for one thing. I want to be a good lead, and getting out to other places means putting that all to the test. Follows that you've never met before, so that you don't know whether they know the moves that you do. Music that you've never heard before, so that you have to pick up the musical hits and pauses on the fly, not just relying on knowing them off by heart. And of course, gut-wrenching nervousness about asking people to dance, because you don't know anyone at all.

Of course, London's a big enough place that you can go to unfamiliar venues with relative ease, but a small enough place that when you get there you're likely to see one or two familiar faces. That eases the pain a little, but still - I only have to go somewhere new to be reminded of how shy I am, and how when I started swing dancing I took weeks to pick up the nerve to ask someone else to dance in the social, even when I was in places where leads were thin on the ground and I would probably have been welcomed. When I actually go to a new venue I find this a little excruciating, although viewed in the cold, rhythm-less light of day it's probably a good thing, because it helps remind me to be understanding of other people's shyness. 

It's difficult for me to be quite as active about visiting different venues as Spoon - I'm older and creakier, and married, and far out in the suburbs where travel into London is easy, but getting out again is slow - but I suppose I should take a little inspiration from the axolotl now and again: although under normal circumstances they never grow up, it does occasionally happen that they assume their adult form. Sometimes they just crawl up out of their pool on their own, but it can be induced - all it takes it a spoonful of iodine.

Look at this happy fellow!

She Goes

Keith, I love you but you are a special kind of mental.

I did say you were a big fish in a small pond- I also said you were playing it safe and not challenging yourself. I can't find fault with you being a creature of habit and attending the same venue regularly though; I'm exactly the same.

However, this lack of variance over time can be less positive. I can tell when you've been dancing elsewhere because you'll lead a move or add a flourish that isn't in your normal repertoire. I'm not suggesting that I'm bored with your leading, I'm suggesting that you are!

The thing is, I feel like the social aspect of this night is now as big a factor in coming as the learning itself. Well, it is for me, and I'm sure you can here at least in part.

But I'm taking steps- I danced in Not London on Saturday night- rocked up with a lead to a place I didn't know, and got stuck in. Maybe not immediately, those bowls of crisps weren't going to eat themselves, plus I wanted to scope out the dancers, admire the stylings, suss out who would be my first victim... But essentially, yeh, I was in at the deep end. Easier for me than you perhaps, as that's how I roll. But worth it.

It was like dusting the cobwebs off.

Dancing regularly in the same circles is something I love- this lead challenges me, this one is very playful, this one has a killer whip of a swing out... I knew nothing about these ones; it made me feel fresher than a moist towelette and a slice of orange after a scorching hot curry.

One lead started a play fight through the medium of dance within two moves! (A kick to the bum as a side-by-side charleston variations? Ohh, it is SO on!) One lead was the best part of 60 and had great banter, and kicks that could put most of the women in the room to shame!! One looked about 16, but danced with the skill and confidence of someone who came out of the womb doing the Big Apple...

All of these leads made me feel like I was a bad-ass follow, like I had amazing style, and like I was the most fabulous female on the floor. They hasn't seen my crazy legs before- they went crazy for them!!

What I'm trying to tell you my dear Keith, is that a change is as good as a rest. When you stop playing it safe and put yourself out there then good things can happen.