What's The Use Of Diving?

He Goes:

What is it that makes a song swing? There are technical details of the musical style, of course, and in theory a little adjustment can make any song swing, but on the dance floor personal taste in music doesn't generally revolve around the distance between notes but the whole package - the lyrics, the strength of the beat, the breaks and pauses.

There's a delicate balance in all the variables of a song. My wife (who is more of a ballroom dancer than a swing dancer) likes dancing swing to ballroom jive music because the more regular beat and structure of the music doesn't tempt me to improvise as much. I like songs to be a bit less regular for exactly the opposite reason - where there are interesting features in the music there's room for fun improvisations. But there's a tipping point beyond which songs get basically undanceable - where the jazz noodling obscures the beat, or makes the time signature next-door to pointless.

I can't complain too much about music like this. After all, I've been saying that experimentation and mistakes in dance are one of the sources of creativity, I can hardly deny musicians the same privileges. But there are jazz songs that are on the swing/stride end of the scale and ones that are on the free jazz end of the scale, and somewhere along that line there's a point where only the most experienced dancers have any chance of dancing to the music. The rest of us just have to sit down and wait it out.

So first and foremost, I like a regular beat with some variation rather than a mechanical beat or an unpredictable one. The second most important thing for me in a song is how the story in the lyrics ties to the music.

Sometimes, where there are strong lyrics in a song and an understandable theme, it only takes having danced to it perhaps once or twice for a lead to pick out those features in the lyrics that suggest moves. In a more complicated song it might happen, but for me the ideal is that if a move relates to the lyric in some way it should be obvious to the follow - even if she hasn't heard the song before - that what we just did matched the lyrics. In "Hallelujah I love her so", for instance, stopping to mime knocking on the door during the "if I call her on the telephone" chorus gives almost perfect comic timing - stopping on the break at "I hear her" is the confusing set up where the follow wonders what you're doing. Then there's a split second before the knocking punchline, which resolves the break and is immediately understandable.

I like "Straighten up and Fly Right" for a similar reason, and "So High", but probably my favourite for simple lyrics that make for a fun dance has to be "Watch the Birdie" (this clip, along with the famous scene of Whitey's Lindy Hoppers, makes up the scant handful of watchable sections of the - in my opinion - otherwise terrible film "Hellzapoppin'"), which is so full of danceable features and breaks that there's barely a couple of bars in between each opportunity for improvisation.

Finally, it's nice when a song has a relatively predictable ending - a countable crescendo. I understand that it's part of the convention of western music that a tune generally doesn't end with a complete bar, but songs can still have predictability built into its end. A song can be brilliant right up until the last moment and then stop suddenly, prompting confused looks from the dance floor as everyone stops in the middle of a move. Or - more common - a song will have a series of Brucknerian endings that makes it seem less like a dance tune and more like the movie version of "Return of the King". The classic Glenn Miller version of "In the Mood" is like this, for instance - it ends two or three times, and I'm rarely sure whether it's two or three or four when I'm concentrating on dancing. Other than that it's a lovely piece of music to dance to - mellow and spiky in equal measure - but having a memory test at the end does make me curse it sometimes.

If you type 'love swing' into google you will not come up with this sort of image....!

She Goes:

 You know, for someone who listens to and bangs on (and on) about music, how much I love it and  how I can't live without it... I don't often tend to think of it in more detailed terms. I love all music, and if I can swing to it, even better. It doesn't have to be clearly defined as swing, either. (Doing the Tranky Doo to Belle and Sebastian? Check!)

If I like it, I like it. And if I love it, even better.

I came to dancing through my love of music, and it's one of the things that keeps me coming back for more. Dancing (lindy or otherwise) to a tune I adore is one of the best things in life, as far as I'm concerned. I have very eclectic tastes in music, and I'm not just saying that. Put my itunes on shuffle and it could string together some Deftones, Saravah Soul, Cinematic Orchestra, Roni Size, Slim Gaillard...

...But what I listen to most is that good, solid, swinging sound. I'm tapping my feet to it at bus stops, doing 'the vulture' as i bop down the road, making up choreography to song sections on escalators. LOVE!

In terms of my dancing, if I'm standing and I think I can make it to the end of the song, I'll dance it. Even if I have to do it half time or we give in and do balboa steps after the first chorus! Faster and slower songs are an enjoyable challenge, and the reason why I'm thinking of having a dabble in blues and balboa to expand my move reperoire.

In terms of my general enjoyment levels, I do like a nice moderate/moderate-upbeat paced song, and if there's breaks in it, even better! I like being able to have enough space to style it out and actually interact with my lead. I want to have the time to watch what they're doing and respond to it, and to give them the chance to do the same. It's great when we both know the song (or can read it the same way) as it really feels like a collaberation then. Faster songs are fun but it can be more about keeping up with the beat (and each other!) which is also fun, just in a different way.

She Links:

Wrap your lovely ears around THIS. I've been nursing this for a few weeks now, I'm almost sad to stop compiling it!

And in case you missed it, here's a playlist I made for you a couple of weeks ago.

Do me a favour? If you see me without a partner at the beginning of any of these songs, please come and grab me!

Kick Me Daddy, 8 To The Bar

He Goes:

Last week Spoon and I listed the attributes that made us avoid some of our potential dance partners. It's not easy to look at a list and not spot one or two things that you yourself are guilty of, and looking at Spoon's list I immediately thought: Oh, right. Floorcraft.

The mysterious art. The reason why Cuban salsa dancers supposedly do a left-to-right basic. The reason why Balboa starts to get popular as dance scenes get more crowded. The difference between you and your follow strutting off the floor confidently and limping off the floor with your arm under hers.

I consider myself a pretty reckless dancer. I like big moves, and I think it's generally coolest if you don't look too much at where you're going. But even with small moves and careful dancing there's a lot of scope for disaster. When I'm leading I'm thinking about the pulse of the music, about the position in the bar, about how I can get ready for the next move, how close we are to a break or the end, whether my right hand is safely in the middle of my follow's back or whether it's crept down like a sleaze hand to her waist, whether my posture's okay, whether there's something in the lyrics I can use... to do all of that in addition to keeping track of all of the couples dancing around us is a recipe for failure. I have to drop one or two tasks, and although usually it isn't floorcraft, sometimes it is.

The strange thing about floorcraft is who the victims are. It's almost always follows, with spectators coming a solid second. I guess this is because leads generally stay where they are, making them easier to track - while follows are sent spinning all over the place and spectators move unpredictably around the edge of the dance floor. Manoeuvring to minimise collisions with other dancers (for instance moving a lindy-charleston to the edge of the floor and facing in) sometimes also makes it more likely that spectators will get unfavourably involved. A few weeks ago, near the beginning of my big dance marathon, I did a hit-the-deck charleston (touching the floor on one with a big mule-kick behind). I'd thought I was nice and safe, but in fact there was a spectator close enough behind to get (gently) mule-kicked in the stomach. Kicking a stranger in the stomach is almost more mortifying than the accidental bad touch.

You'd think, having made that terrible mistake once, I would avoid it again. But a mere week later I found myself charleston-ing to some fast-tempo music. Three basics in a row, and then clearly it would be worth doing something to mark the end of the section. I checked behind. I checked behind again. I hit the deck, left leg out behind me - directly into a spectator's thigh. He'd somehow managed to ninja himself in the way in between me looking and me hitting the deck.

D'oh.

The trouble with floorcraft is that it's most necessary in the most cramped conditions, but they're also the conditions in which all the simple ways of doing it go out of the window - if you're dancing in a crush it's hard to keep your arse out so that you hit bumper-to-bumper because it's easier to be upright. The same for keeping your arms out. At a busy dance you're more likely to meet beginner follows with dangerously inappropriate footwear. There's also a psychological aspect - although I like busy dances because of the ambience, I also find they can be a little bit boring. If there's no room to swing out you're stuck largely with 6-count moves and tight partnered charleston - which can work, but if you have to dance a whole evening without swinging your follow out once it can begin to feel a little like you've failed dancing. I've taken to inventing what I call the "Red Rhythm Swingout" to try to get round this - more like a Lindy Circle that ends in open than a proper swing-out, in which I hang on to my follower almost until she's put her foot down on the seven beat so that I can place her safely into the tiny space available for her. It's not great, but it gives me the option of a swing-out that doesn't end in Picasso's Guernica.

As well as brain-power, floorcraft requires muscle - it's not easy keeping your backside out and your arms up if you're dancing for three hours. I tend to straighten up as the night goes on and my legs and core muscles become more and more tired. At least this is one feature of dancing that corrects itself - by the time I'm tired, half of the other dancers are too, and the floor is clear once again.

She Goes:

Floor craft is a pretty flippin' big deal when it comes to social dancing. I find it absurd that people are still not able to take these basic concepts on boards. It's common sense! Come on now!

Let's start with spectators. They're mostly dancers and so can scoot round a tightly packed dancefloor without too much trauma. (being able to 'read' the flow of the moves).. However there is the odd individual who will try and short cut across a fast-filling-floor... and the results are not always 'phew that was close'... Also, the people stood/sat around the dance floor. Yes, you're all tuckered out, bless, from swinging the flip out during the last song, but please folks, keep your limbs out of stomping range!

Now. The nitty gritty.

I agree with Keith in terms of big moves being better. Big moves! Kicky legs! Flung out arms! Twist! Heels! However! It's bad enough accidentally injuring the person you're dancing with, never mind someone you're not. Spending a whole dance apologising is not exactly confidence-boosting and rather distracting. You spend a couple of bars post-apology guiltily glancing over your shoulder, and then a couple of bars trying to refocus yourself. You may miss the killer break in the tune. The song may end before you get your groove back. You may regain your focus only for it to happen again! (This happened to me recently, I actually poked someone in the face. Mortifying. Took me ages to regain my composure and pretty much ruined the dance for me from that point. Fortunately we had a second song which was less violent!)

It takes two to STFO, and good manners on the floor come from team work. Leads, keep your eyes peeled, but follows be aware too. Yes, they're driving, but remember, you can still grab the handbrake at any time. He's swinging you out and you know the space has been snapped up? Twist round early, slow it down, style it up, whatever!

When there is a collision/clipped heel/punch in the face, apologise! Even if you don't think it was your fault! Don't be the lead/follow people mutter grumpily about every time you have an incident.

There's a couple of great leads I can think of straight away who are great to dance with, but I dread when there's a busy dancefloor. I love unexpected dips and jumps, keep me on my toes, and I enjoy the challenge of an aggressive swing out, keep me on my count, but i don't like any of these things if I'm constantly having to reign the moves in on your behalf. (and believe me, I often am)

It really does come down to common sense and manners. If it's crowded as hell, dial down the swing outs. If it's a really fast floor, get used to it (and check your partner has too) before busting out some faster moves. And if injuries are sustained, apologise, shake it off and hop to the bar for a time out. Not exactly mind blowing stuff, is it? *innocent face*

He Links:

As I've mentioned, I have an idea that creativity and improvisation in dance come from mistakes. But they can also come from deliberate experimentation. Fen K (of this post fame) is (as well as a swing dancer) a company dancer and dance teacher. She is currently working on The Physical Science Project, a chemistry-themed dance workshop. Here are the Physical Science dancers brilliantly improvising the effects of a Puppet potion.

Straighten Up And Fly Right

He Goes:

Not everyone makes a good dance partner. 

There, I've said it. Swing dancers while dancing are just like people (in many ways, they are people), and that means that although a good 95% of them are great fun to spend a song with, there is that niggling 5% who just aren't. It might be because they're not good dancers, but sometimes they are, and they still aren't fun to dance with.

There is a conversation I have with almost every beginner I dance with, so much so that I should probably have it put onto a laminated card so that I can just hand it out. First of all there's the disclaimer, in which the beginner follow tells me that she isn't very good or only knows the moves we learnt in the lesson and I reassure her that that is no problem, we can just do that. Last of all I get asked how long I've been dancing for, at which point (after telling them) I generally start my explanation that it's probably not a useful question to ask, because it's hours on the floor that are important - for example I've been swing-dancing four times as long as Spoon and she's at least my equal, mainly because she dances at every opportunity.

It's the question in between that that I have to think about the most, which is this: "Don't you get bored dancing with beginners?"

Now, obviously it would be the height of bad manners to answer "yes" to that during a dance with a beginner, but actually I don't. I'm not sure I'd want to spend an entire night dancing with complete beginners, but even then I'm not sure - I haven't got bored dancing half of a night with beginners, why would the other half make any difference? 

It's not that I'm such an even-tempered person that I can enjoy dancing with anyone, it's just that experience isn't the determining factor for enjoyment. Some beginners are a bit of a chore to dance with, but it's not the fact that they are beginners that makes the difference. There are other things that make a dance partner tedious to dance with.

It's hard to explain, exactly, but there is a definite different feel between a dance partner who's doing their best to follow your lead but can't (either because they're inexperienced or because your lead is ambiguous), and a partner who won't follow your lead. It can feel like dancing with a store mannequin - more a battle than a dance, as you try to push someone around the floor.

A look of disapproval during a move is another way to make a dance unenjoyable. I like a reasonable bit of eye contact during a dance, and when a lead goes wrong I generally try to check out my follow's expression. The best I can hope for is a laugh - a shared understanding that one or the other, or possibly both of us, just made a hash of things, but that's OK. The next, and most common, expression, is one of confusion. That's perfectly understandable. What I don't like is when I get a frown, a "what do you think you're trying to do?" look. I'm not against people giving me advice - otherwise how am I going to learn, after all - but when I'm dancing with someone I like to feel like I'm dancing with them, not interviewing for a job.

Arm clampers are unpleasant to dance with. Having now followed a little, I appreciate how hard it is to keep your arms available, if for no other reason than the strain on one's shoulder muscles. But some follows will go further than that, seemingly leaning their whole weight onto my arm in closed position so that it feels as though I'm helping an injured woman to hospital rather than dancing with her. If I haven't had a chance to warm up this can be pretty excrutiating during classes - keeping a smile on while my shoulder is screaming in agony because three follows in a row have been leaning on it and I'm trying to keep a decent frame. Perhaps younger leads don't have that problem, or perhaps everyone's got the agonies and we're all toughing it out.

Alcohol seems to be a special way to leech fun from the more sober partner to the drunker, too. A bit of a drink to work up dutch courage I can understand, but occasionally you meet people who are going above and beyond. I'm getting to an age now where when I see a university-age woman drinking at a dance hall I have more of an urge to call her parents than dance with her. The perfect storm of unfun dancing is to dance with a drunk woman who is unable to keep time, unable or unwilling (or both) to follow a lead, and still thinks that she's god's gift to music. No.

So beginners, do not worry. It's not a limited number of moves that make a dance bad. After all, even when I dance with someone at the same level as me a good half of the dance is going to be basics and simple turns. What will make me wish I hadn't asked you to dance (or that I'd made an excuse when you asked) is grumpiness, is clamping down on my arm until I lose feeling in my hand, is treating the dance like a technical examination which we have to get through, and in which you have no part except to follow along like a robot.

She Goes:

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I can’t decide whether to do a disclaimer now or at the end of this post. How about I apologise for any offence now, and try to do some damage limitation at the end?

So, reasons for not enjoying dances/turning people down… this could end up being controversial!

Mr I-Can’t-Count; you know the moves, but I find it difficult to follow you when you do a 7-count swing out…or maybe a 9-count Charleston! I don’t really care if you send me out forwards/backwards/sideways, but send me out in the count I’m used to! And then start the next move after the current one has actually finished!! Count it with me, c’mon, one, two, three-and-four, five, six, seven-and-eight!

It’s really disconcerting! I’ll have to chalk it up to the fact my wondrous beauty is distracting you and making you nervous… These leads are often also about as musical as my kitchen sink! I can’t help but wonder why they picked swing dancing, maybe they’d prefer something else like, I don’t know, sitting down?! (And then I see them kicking swinging out like a boss later on- egg on my judgmental face much?!)

Mr Robot; Seriously dude, you need to chill out! Tense arms and legs, you’re all elbows and knees…and don’t get me started on the plate hands!! As a follow I try and reflect my lead’s style of dancing- I think it makes the dance flow better and makes us look more compatible to any watchers. But, hell, do I feel uptight after our dance! Loosey-goosey baby, loosey-goosey!

Mr Swimmingly; Now look, we ALL sweat like mad when we’re getting our swing on. I’m not talking about that. Wet shirts? I’m not afraid. Slippy hands and arms? I laugh in the face of their danger!  Actually I quite like my leads hot and sweaty. Damp shirt, shiny face, slightly out of breath? Yeah, you’re all warmed up, let’s do this!

I’m talking about the guy that sweats so much you’re wetter from his sweat than your own. I’m not even kidding. (This isn’t the odd drip; it’s more like a shower from every movement) Most regular dancers are actually incredibly gentleman like and considerate when it comes to this. Regular shirt changes and a discreet towel/flannel whip round and they’re ready to go for some more. But. There is the odd lead that doesn’t. I actually know one and I have to avoid him, which is quite awkward. However, he also falls under the above two categories so I have very just cause.

Mr Lynx; You smell. I’m sorry, you really do. I cannot believe that you are not aware of this. Let’s look at this logically, shall we? You are a regular dancer. A regular dancer who knows they get hot and sweaty. But you have no towel, no change of shirt, no spritz of scent, no mints and probably not an extra spray of deodorant before you came out either. If you had just one of these things I could forgive you…  You smell like you just stepped off a farm! Please, do something about this; you’re not doing yourself any favours! I personally try and spray nice smells on myself when out dancing, throughout the night, as I do get very hot and sweaty sometimes. (If I do smell bad, somebody needs to tell me right now)

On the subject of breath, I am fine with most food smells (except fish breath! Urgh!)- But if you eat something pungent the day of dancing please do bring mints/gum, as I know many other follows who are less forgiving than I am. Plus I love a waft of minty-freshness whilst on the floor. 

Mr Wet-Fish; like a limp handshake, your leading is floppy and insecure. I can’t read your signals and we spend the whole dance apologising to each other, both feeling worse and worse as the seconds tick by. I feel confident enough now on the social dance floor to ask for stronger signals when I find a lead like this. 

Mr Bad-Toucher; we covered this a couple of weeks ago and I’m thrilled to say that I’ve not had a bad touch since. I will own up to accidentally instigating a boob grab at the last social dance I went to, but a non-dancer distracted me. My lead pulled me up on it straight away and I called him ungrateful … And then apologised after a couple of bars. *Shame face* 

All in all I’m quite lucky that the people I dance with regularly don’t fall into these categories- what a lovely civilised bunch you are!

And if you ever have any doubt or fear that you are one of these Mr categories- then work on changing it! Eat ALL the mints! Change ALL the t-shirts! Count ALL the 8s!

She Hears:

A bonus soundtrack compiled by Spoon to get your Monday swinging:
http://8tracks.com/smallspoonful/that-old-sound

Bei Mir Bistu Swing

He Goes:

I think of myself as having started dancing late. Now, late is relative, obviously: I read not too long ago that the poet Hadi Khorsandi had begun tap dancing lessons this year, at the age of 68. I've a little way to go before that, but it seems to me that I spent a long time working up to being a dancer without actually realising or admitting that that was what I was doing, and that if I had my time over again I might try not to waste so much of it.

Of course, what's past is prologue. If I'd started dancing when I was 15 rather than 35 I would not have been the same dancer that I am now. I might have been better, or I might have been so bad at it that I'd have been put off for life.

As it was, I lucked into an opportunity that sold dance to me. I shared an office with a ballroom dancer who was so into it that he set up free classes in the reception area at our workplace to teach his colleagues.

"Keith will come," he told one of our colleagues. He turned to face me. "You'll come, right?"

I shrugged.

"Can't hurt, I suppose."

I'd recently been learning martial arts, taught by my father-in-law, and I thought of ballroom dancing as an extension of this along the James Bond axis. I could beat up a spy one day, then seduce an ambassador's wife with a sensual tango the next.

The important thing to know about where I used to work is that it was staffed predominantly by physicists. I don't want to get too much into the hoary old routine of claiming that physicists lack social graces (let me just say that I hate the Big Bang Theory with the fury of a thousand suns), but I do have to admit - my male colleagues were not great dancers. Whether it was awkwardness with women, unfamiliarity with the location of their own hips, poor idea of rhythm or whatever else, I was one of the small handful of passable dancers. At some dances I was even the best. A brief dabbling with yoga had given me a better posture which in turn gained me some praise for my waltz.

...and I was sold. Once you're told you're good at something, it takes on a desirable sheen. It didn't hurt, either, I suppose, that I was popular with women for the duration of the class in a way that I'd never been outside of dance.

If this all sounds pretty shallow, I suppose it is. But it is nice to be praised, and it is nice to be popular with the sex you're attracted to, and it would be mad to say otherwise. But over the years, particularly since I've taken up swing dancing, the other, deeper benefits of dance have shown themselves, and it's clear that they were there all along.

Back in my teen years, when I was listening to music while reading in bed, I was a toe-tapper. That's the least a person can dance, but it's a connection to the music. I think of true dancers as people who are compulsive toe-tappers. My first Lindy evangelist, Lydia, I never once saw standing still. Even waiting in line she was tapping her toes, shuffling her feet, doing a little Charleston. At first I thought of it as just a charming idiosyncrasy, but as I danced more and more I came to realise that you can hold music in your head easily enough, and once you have an internal beat it's the most natural thing to do to let it escape to your feet.

There are the health benefits. I don't dance for my health, but it's no coincidence that in the first six months of swing dancing I lost fifteen kilos. I do other exercises - I cycle a lot, I run sometimes - but running is boring (I can only do it with a friend to talk to), and cycling is just the way I get around rather than something I particularly enjoy (I do quite enjoy it, but I choose to cycle to places I want to go, I don't usually just go out for a cycle for no purpose). Dance is an exercise that's intrinsically enjoyable. I don't have to focus on the end product to make it seem worthwhile, because the moment is what's important.

Well, I'm mainly a lead, so the next few moments are what's important, but.. eh.

I started dancing pretty much by accident, but I keep dancing for all of these reasons. As I've come out into the wider world of dance, I'm now no longer the most rhythmic fish in a small pool, instead I'm just one average fish in a big sea. But I still feel competent, I still like being able to impress women, I enjoy letting my feet - my body - go with the music, and I still have a form of exercise that I can enjoy rather than dread. On any given day - at any given dance - one or more of these motivations might be closer to the front of my mind than the others. But they're all there.

She Goes

Consider this your epic post warning.

Around the age of 13 I did Saturday morning dance club. Basic steps. Warm ups. Nothing special. I do remember this one warm for arms that was always done to a particular song- and whenever I hear it now I get overcome with a sort of misty eyed amusing nostalgia.

I sacked off the dance classes after a bit though, what teenaged girl wants to get up that early on a Saturday morning? Plus I knew I would always be stuck with the other kids shoved out of the house weekend mornings- and not like the graceful ones that came in gliding through their private lessons when our time was up. I really wanted to be them though. Poise, grace, and better songs!

Fast forwards a good few years and I decided that I would take up salsa with a friend. Having been single for a while, as had he, it seemed like a good idea to combine fitness, fun and hopefully meeting hotties. When both of us found someone outside of class, however, we didn't go back.

The choice of salsa never actually felt like a choice. It seemed like the obvious option- you want to do dance lessons? Clearly salsa is the way. London was gripped in salsa fever at the time...

I enjoyed it, learning to finally connect my brain to my feet in a more structured way. I learnt to follow, actually follow, and that was worth the salsa shoes that are bundled away somewhere, bleating mournfully. However it didn't capture my heart, salsa. Some of the music I listened to had Latin elements to it but I didn't feel the urge to immerse myself. I enjoyed the social aspect more. If it meant dealing with a strangers thigh between mine and occasionally dreadful music, so be it.

Around the time of salsa I had rediscovered a friend in London. He and his friend ran a northern soul night that coincided with salsa night every fortnight.

I have always loved soul, having grown up with my mother living Diana Ross and the like. I'd dipped back into it at uni with a well informed housemate and hadn't looked back.

So what was a girl to do?! I went to both nights. Salsa then soul. I loved the dancing at one and the music at another. I got into the northern soul style of dancing- shuffling about, all elbows and ankles. But it didn't capture my heart.

Musically I was inspired though. I devoured anything the boys put my way and went off on my own little tangents too. I remember one of them being surprised that I had already heard a song that he'd just played and I said, "I do listen to music when I'm not with you, you know!".... Spoony smackdown!

So where are we in this tale so far... Ah yes. A spoon with plenty of moves but none that feel right, and a music obsession keeping her toes tapping and her heart lifted.

In January this year I moved to New York. It's a long story, I have my own blog if you want more details, but I was essentially a single young lady with time on my hands.

I googled 'swing dance manhattan', clicked in the first link, and booked a spot on a 4hour Sunday taster. Why swing dance? That I honestly can't tell you. It just occurred to me. I looked at doing language courses fr a bit but nothing jumped out, and before I knew it I'd seen the links on the Dance Manhattan studio website and I was convinced it was what I wanted.

I emerged out of that taster high as a kite and with the receipt for a four week course clutched in my still-slightly-sweaty hand.

The rest is academic, really, I spent the rest of my time in NYC dancing as much as I could, making a social circle and learning at every opportunity. I was immersed. I had a dance partner and dance buddies.

And then I had to move back to London and make some difficult choices that meant I wasn't moving back any time soon. Heartbroken is the word. Gutted and miserable are others.

But once I'd stopped being angry and depressed about my geographical chaffage I set about finding dancing here.

Now, I'm a creature of habit in an extreme way, but I can lose habits as quickly as I can form them, if not more so. The fact that the urge to continue dancing was strong enough for me to act on it speaks volumes for how much it resonates with me. I came to it in NYC to lift my spirits and give me something to focus on- and I came back to it in London for the same reasons.

I've now been dancing in total for 9 months. Long enough to grow another human from scratch. That's also the time it takes a friend of mine to get through 72 boxes of crunchy nut cornflakes.

What keeps me coming back to dancing is still essentially the same as what got me started; to feel good and have something to bang on about. But it's also become more than that. Yes it's my main form of exercise, it's my main hobby, and on some weeks I spend more on dancing than I do on food.

The social element is the biggest factor for me though. I'm a social creature at heart, and it's always self affirming to find other people who share a passion for something. I've always tended to form friendship groups based around where I work, and when those circumstance change, inevitably, one must start from scratch. Again. And again. This time, however, I think I've found something to last.

This is the spoon, keeping the love. Over and out x

Gender Bending Ambidanceterousness AKA Going Both Ways

He Goes:

"Every time you use the words 'men and women' and 'leads and follows' interchangeably, god kills a kitten" - Fen K

In the tango salons of Buenos Aires it was not uncommon for male beginners to be required to begin their dance tuition as follows - only when they were deemed good enough as follows by their teachers were they allowed to progress on to learn the lead role. The idea of course was that only by understanding how the lead was supposed to feel could they hope to replicate it. Although Lindy did not originate (as tango did) as a male-male dance form, it's easy to see that the same benefits could be gained by a Lindy lead learning a follow's skills.

When I started Lindy-hopping it was perhaps a month before I saw my first male-male dance, and approximately ten seconds before I saw my first female-female dance. In contrast, the only male-male social dancing I've seen (and almost all of the female-female dancing I've seen) in ballroom was at dances loosely affiliated with LGBT dance groups. Like other dance forms, Lindy still suffers a little from an imbalance between men and women attending classes and socials, but Lindy seems to cope with it much better, because it's much easier to swap roles:

• Unlike Ballroom and Latin, there are only a limited number of foot patterns and basic moves. I still haven't finished learning things from beginner's classes, but I can easily swap to a follow position in a class and not feel like I'm missing out on important lead stuff. Similarly, women who normally follow can swap to taking a lead role without compromising their follow skills.
• Unlike Salsa, the relatively chaste hold of Lindy is easy enough to take up even between people that might not be amazingly comfortable with each other (and this includes different sex partners as well as same sex, of course). In classes as a follow I've only met two leads who were really freaked out by holding hands with another man (and said so), perhaps five or six more who were gritting their teeth and getting it over with but saying nothing. But you know what? They all got on with their leading, and we got through it.
• Also unlike Ballroom and Latin (and some salsa classes), most Lindy classes have a fairly strict and polished attitude to partner rotation in classes, which means that whoever you're partnered with you know you'll be moved on to a new partner in a moment.

I'd considered dancing as a follow for a while, and it was going to a class where one of the other more competent leads was a woman that made me think I should actually get off my arse and do it. I asked to lead me in a dance, and I discovered amazingly quickly that it was hard even to follow a rock-step. I am sturdy and bad at following. My leading lady (the source of the quote above), was slight - I guess about half my mass - and competent, which must have given our dance the appearance of a patient stable-girl leading around an exceptionally stupid dray horse. I made up my mind that I would take some classes as a follow so that next time I would be able to put on a better show.

I've now taken beginner classes as a follow three times, and some of the strangest things I've learnt are the trivial ones. How hard it is to keep your arms up and available to the lead is one thing. I've managed to avoid clamping my lead's arm under mine, mostly, but I have a new found sympathy for follows who seem to avoid taking my left hand. It is  surprisingly difficult to concentrate on ones footwork and on holding ones right arm out. It shouldn't be, but it is.

I've learnt more about the importance of proper weight change. When I'm leading, I know mentally where my weight should be at any point, and I can usually fix it. As a follow, every time I lose concentration for a second, I revert to lead footwork - rock-stepping on my left, for instance, at the beginning of a bar, which makes me realise how engrained that first step-step is in my mind. This is good, because it means I can put my legs on auto-pilot when I'm social dancing, but bad because it means that I'm probably not dancing that way because I want to, but because my legs are too used to it to do anything else - which isn't just a problem for following, but for leading as well.

I've learnt is how hard it is to turn more than once - the follows in that class were asked to do a 1080-degree in one bar (that is, step with a 360 turn, step with another 360 turn, and finally a 360 turn into a triple). Too much for me! ...and I will think twice about asking a follow for more than two turns in a row in the future.

Perhaps the most important thing I've learnt is how different leads can be. In a beginners class of 20 couples, perhaps four or five men are giving decent leads. In ballroom classes I sometimes have to tell my wife to wait for my lead rather than just going straight into a move. After learning as a follow I can appreciate why follows sometimes do that - because in class, whether you get a lead at the right time or even at all can be completely random.

"If you try to help them out a good lead might scold you," she told me, "and if you make it more difficult and wait for a lead that doesn't come, you come across to the beginners as a bitch."

Following as a lead I at least have one advantage there - having done it all before, I can offer lead-to-lead advice on what they might be doing wrong... although I suspect I may still come across as a bit of a jerk.

Oh well.

She Goes:

I don't know about you ladies, but I love seeing two guys swing dance together. Hawt! When one swings the other out and they do their lil' twist-twists? Yeah!

C'mon now, you know what I'm saying here. And chaps- surely you've seen two chicks engaging in a bit of mutual 6/8-count action? When I've been dancing with a girl there's normally at least one guy cheering us at the point of swing out!

I think it's useful to go both ways as a dancer. I believe it informs your own performance and also helps you give back to the dance community while you're learning your new role- because you can give more eloquent feedback to your partner other than 'Crap, I really have no idea how to do this, do you?!' You have a good understanding of what the move is supposed to look like and how it should feel in your normal role. This helps the newbie you're dancing with, I reckon.

It's also (as a people watching person) funny to watch the initial confusion flicker over their expressions. Muhaha!

I encountered my first Lady Lead (or LLs from here) the first week I started having lessons. I thought it was the coolest thing ever- this chick was clearly a badass follow and not satisfied with that set of mad skills, she'd decided to develop her understanding of dancing by learning to lead. Her reassurance and feedback in those first few weeks ('That's the way', 'Don't worry about that', 'Hey, I'm leading this move, not you!') really helped me have faith I was on the right path.

The angelic selfless stuff out the way- since I've started learning to lead I have realised how much stuff leads have to think about! (And may I give you all a high-five for the excellent work you do)... 'Am I doing 6 or 8 count, what step am I leading, what's the signal for that, does my follow feel comfortable with the moves, are they looking fabulous and smiley, what's the music phrase telling me, is there a break coming, oh crap that didn't work, what's next...etc etc!

When I'd first started learning following, I couldn't understand why the leads weren't smiling and laughing as much as I was. Now I get it; they were nearly going cross-eyed in concentration!!

I first led by accident. I rocked up to a favourite class and there was a crippling lack of leads... so I thought I'd give it a whirl. a few months later I'm still trying to lead in at least one lesson a week. (That's trying-to-lead, I'm not there yet!)

I think that it's helped my understanding of signals, their timings and counting in general. I never counted my steps before, and as a follow I still don't tend to- but moves I find harder I can now  appreciate how counting can help. I must admit that switching between leading and following in the same night is a bit mind bending, though.

So, this is all well and good, dancing with a LL in a learning environment, but socially it's an entirely different kettle of fish. I'm not really up to scratch to lead socially, so I haven't done much, but I have done it. I have, however, been led by a few LLs.

LLs can also fall under the different types of lead Keith and I discussed last month , and on occasion I've actually found that the more experienced the LL (as a follow) sometimes the harder I find it to follow them... do you follow me?!

They're such good follows and they might expect the follows they lead to be of the same calibre. Some LL have been quite aggressive in their lead signals, some have been so subtle I've missed basic moves. I suppose it depends on the kind of signals they prefer to receive from their leads when they follow?

However. there are some LLs out there, the Mythical LL (MLL!) who leads like a dream. She gives clear signals without jolting you, keeps the move repertoire at your level, keeps the pace and bounce, and throughout it all retains her air of femininity and softness in the role. I've only ever danced with 2 MLL. But it's what I aspire to as a LL.

Also as a LL I want to lead a male follow in some crazy gender-bendy hilarity. I've had a little go mid-dance, which was confusing as hell for me, but I will not be defeated!

Any ladies out there tempted to switch it up? Go for it! I would suggest that if you're still relatively new to dancing that you get a few months worth of following under your belt first, just so you have a solid base to build on. But also, keep your toe in the following pool- you don't want to lose your following know-how! But apart from that, I say get out there, mix it up, and have yourself a time!

Too Much of a Good Thing is Worse Than None At All?

Apologies for the lack of usual post last week. Spoon had a situation that prevented our usual musings, so Keith ninja'd out a poem which we hope you enjoyed.

Normal service has now been resumed!

He Goes:

There's something to be said for immersion. It now amazes me that people will come to a swing night and leave at the end of the class without waiting around for the social dancing. Of course, I wasn't exactly the world's most ardent social dancer when I started lindy-hopping, so I understand what they're going through, but really - as everyone says, the best way to get good at dancing is to dance.

I say this coming off the end of a ten-evening dance marathon which has convinced me in some ways and made me dubious in others. During that time I have danced eight days of swing socials (roughly three hours a day), plus two days of ballroom classes (well, I had to give my legs a bit of a chance...)

I'm lucky enough to live in London, where generally speaking the problem is one of choice rather than lack - with the odd exception of Fridays, which half of the month seem to have very little on. I could have been out of luck, but fortunately I live far enough out of London to make it to a social in Windsor. That, plus three of the other venues were ones I'd never been to before.

Swing-dancing in London is both impersonal and personal. There are so many dancers that you can go to 7 different venues in a week and almost everyone you see will be a stranger - but there will always be one or two friendly faces, guaranteeing at least a couple of dances with a follow you're familiar with or a little chat with a lead you know. 

It's a strange feeling, dancing so much. I'm also in the middle of NaNoWriMo, so my daily routine has been "Write during the day, Dance during the evening, Sleep, Repeat". I've felt okay about the writing, but the transition from writing to dancing was bizarre. On the trains or buses I could barely keep my eyes open, but one dance and I'd feel completely fresh again. Each day seemed to last longer because it was always full. I ate a lot, and at strange times - eating before dancing never seemed like a good idea, but I was so hungry when I came home that it was often sarnies at midnight.

I didn't seem to get too tired - or when I did, it was in odd ways: crouched walking while I lead a forward into multiple swivels caused my thighs to burn like I'd run a marathon when I stood up again, but a dance later they were fresh again. But as the days rolled past I noticed that I more often adopted a lazy, simian style in slow songs. My triple-steps became a thing of the past - I could do them when I focused on them, but more often I would let my follow get on with that while I did single steps. I performed the slowest Charleston I have ever danced, with a follow that I thought might only have done the class we had shared and nothing more. My right arm drooped lower and lower during the week, accentuating the problems I have with blocking my followers when I tuck-turn them. Spoon, I thought, will have conniptions when we next dance.

But that was both a positive and negative thing. I became more convinced that the ability to improvise is promoted by mistakes. I learnt in some of the classes I took, but the majority of things I learnt came either from my own mistakes or those that my follows made (almost always, I will admit, due to my own ambiguous leading). I am a solid kind of guy, difficult to lead, but the more I danced with certain follows the more I found it easy to follow from the lead - for instance, feeling in a partnered Charleston that my follow had lingered more on the five-kick than even the note had, which inspired me during the next phrase to just freeze there an hold it for the next three beats.

Dancing the same steps over and over again is also - well, kind of boring. That's perhaps the wrong word. It's more like a sort of intense awareness that there are more ways to fit to the music, but it did remind me of being a beginning dancer and worrying that basics, tuck-turns, and change-of-places would not be enough to keep a follow happy for an entire dance. I tried things out - some of them did not work, some of them were disastrous, but I knew that with a whole week of dancing I would have plenty of chances to do them right. And my fears seemed to be groundless - even when a move tanked, I enjoyed the dance and so (as far as I could tell) did my follow.

Perhaps the oddest thing I discovered - almost insignificant on its own, was the in-bar call and response. A single step made by me on beat 2, that my partner echoed on beat 4. The most minimal of dancing, but we built up from there. I will have to mull that over for a long time, like all the other things I have learnt. If you get a chance to do something similar, my advice is to go for it.

She Goes:

(Pre-dance)
As I start this post it has been 8 days since my last dance, and I'm gagging for some swing! I've also severely limited the amount of swing music I listen to, no easy feat with my iPod!

I dance 3 time a week at least, and so to have this time away has been very difficult for me!

Obviously my reasons for having the time off will be impacting (read; not good) but I know my mental well-being has been affected by this lack of release. I purposely danced really hard last time as I was unsure when the next time would be.

My temper is shorter, and I feel kind of cluttered and distracted. Physically I feel like a big restless slug. Inactivity has made me lazy of body, mind, and all other factors aside, I'm more tired too.

However the thought of coming back to dancing has been keeping me strong! Present a starving man with a whole roast chicken and he will rip parts off with his hands, tear flesh off with his teeth. He will eat like a maniac, then calm down, have a swig of tea, and then consume the rest in a more sustainable manner. That's how I feel about getting back in there. I can't wait!

(Post dance)
I deliberately chose a low key night so I didn't do myself a mischief (and that one too because I'm friends with the teachers ;) )

I led in both classes and had a couple of dances afterwards, I was a little rusty but it felt good. It was good to face it with friends too in a safe space rather than the jungles of social dances! (That'll come tomorrow)

I didn't dance hard enough to get exhausted. But I felt the difference in my stamina levels- I got out of breath quicker but I suppose we were doing some faster things in the intermediates. We did some skip ups, suzy q's and then this tango move- it felt awesome! I can't wait for tomorrow when it'll be more classes and a live band. But I digress.

The serenity after a nice dance is very much present. I feel calm, like a noisy little corner of my mind has run out of things to say. Which may be why this part of the post is shorter!!

But to sum up. Provided you approach it sensibly and listen to your body (yes mum, ok!), I don't think there's any way too much dancing can be worse than none at all. So what are you waiting for?! Grab your plimsolls and get out there!!

Interlude: I propose and you dispose

No He Goes She Goes today, but we will be back next week - or possibly sooner. In the meantime, an interlude:

I propose and you dispose

I propose and you dispose

that's the rough idea.

I swing you out and you show me swivels

but that's not what's happening here.

I dance the steps that we learnt in school.

You do the wrong ones but make them look cool.

Where all the cracks are, that's where the dance gets in.

I'm not too good at leading a Charleston

so you kick the dog.

My tuck-turns are lazy and you miss my hand

so you fall off the log.

I lead a little hop but I don't do it right.

So you jump half your body height.

Where we screw up, that's where the dance gets in.

It isn't just a one-way thing

I can do it too.

When we overcook some crazy turn

On the heel of my shoe.

I get fancy in the instrumental break,

Too proud to mention it was just a mistake,

Where we're imperfect, that's where the dance slips in.

Now some songs they go on forever

some end just like that.

Even the experts are never so sure

that they'd bet their hat.

When that song ended we wished it was longer,

But the hashes we made only made us stronger.

We danced it together, and that's when the dance got in.