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?

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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

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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

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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.

I Get A Kick Out Of You....(Tube)

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I've always wondered how it was that people learned dances in the old days. We're told that people just went along to dances and learnt there, or they learned as children, but can there really have been such a cultural difference from current times? It seems very un-English to do something like that, what with the risk of incompetency being exposed or emotions being expressed. On the other hand, society frequently changes quickly enough to make one generation's norms completely alien to the next generation, so perhaps it's true.

So let's assume that this is true, and that most people just learned by observation and imitation. They'd:

• go to dances
• see a cool move
• try to work out how it was done
• try it out
• get it wrong
• try it out again
• get it wrong again
• ...imagine this goes on for a while...
• finally have some breakthrough in understanding
• do the move successfully!

This is all fair enough. And it still works as a study method - I've picked up a move or two this way. But now there's the internet.

What you can't do on the social dance floor you can do in the comfort of your own home. See a cool move on a YouTube video? Just wind it back a few seconds and watch it again. And again, and again. You can (if you've got the HTML5 version of a video) play it in slow-motion. You can pause the image so that you can work out where a particular hand or foot is at any given time. You get the benefit of watching dancers from all around the world just as easily as your regular dance-partners. And perhaps best of all, you can send the link on to a friendly fellow dancer - no more of that "oh, that was a really cool move that guy just led, I can't really describe it but if we keep watching perhaps he'll do it again". Instead: "watch this, the move at 3:10".

I'll admit that even with all these advantages I still find it difficult picking up fancy moves from videos, but I suspect that's a personal thing based on feeling faintly ridiculous practising on my own at home. Fortunately YouTube isn't only useful for instruction. There's also instant re-inspiration whenever I'm feeling like I'm starting to stagnate.

I love living in the future.

She Goes

I was out dancing last night, and towards the end found myself watching a favourite follow, whilest sat with another favourite. Dancing follow did some kind of bad-ass kicky-leg swing out styling variation, and the one I was sat with squealed with delight and demanded a repeat because 'she had to have it'! The one dancing responded with that she had no idea what she did so to point it out if it happened again.

How many amazing steps have been lost in the mists of time before camera phone footage?! Maybe that awesome step you were feeling really smug about could change the course of dancing history, if only it was documented?!

No? Oh well.

For the first 6 months or so of my dancing life I didn't watch a single clip on youtube. And then one night, I saw a clip posted on facebook, and before I knew it, it was 3am and I'd fiended off a few years' worth of competitions, jack and jills, showcases, and  I WAS SO GODDAMN PUMPED HOW THE HELL COULD I SLEEP!?

Awesome dancing follow, mentioned in the first paragraph, is a big fan of watching clips over and over, dissecting and distilling their secrets, analysing comparing, and filing them away like a sexy lindy squirrel. I am not like that. I like noticing trends that clips can set off though- a jump here, a variation there, that move where the follow continues spinning and the leader bounces them off their arms, and variations therein...

Lindy clips are like porn for me. If watching porn makes you horny, then watching dance clips makes me...horny for dance?....Dancey?...Dorny? OH OH OH! I have it!! It gives me the LINDY HORN!!

I'm a genius! Please, take that phrase and use it with my blessing. File it next to 'dafterglow'.

Anyway, back to the subject at hand. I tend to prefer watching Jack and Jills, invitationals mainly, because I'm so big on social dancing that I can relate to it more than showcases, for example. Most of the lindy rockstars in them are really relaxed and not out to score anything other than a smashing dance. I also find myself thinking about who I would dance with first, in a room full of rockstar dancers. (Lindy horn fantasies... guilty as charged...)

Here are a few ones I've been indulgingin/torturing myself with in the last couple of weeks;

The first dance in this clip (which is the full length version of the comp), recently did the rounds. It is an awesome example of two kick-ass dancers vibing with a song, having an actual dance conversation, and having tonnes of fun. I do like the full length clips when possible- it gives the in-jokes that develop more context. I also like being able to see the dances that don't work *quite* so well, the dancers nervous to be paired with such superstars, or when two styles just dont work. It also saves having to open millions of tabs on my browser! I like the all-skate at the end of this, it decends into hilarity. Just watch it!

This clip is another full lengther- and I love it for slightly different reasons. (interesting that both this and the one previous start with the same song- I only just noticed that) I can't decide what I love more- the lindy dances or the other ones. Watch it, you'll get what I mean. I LOVE the idea of dicking around and having fun like that. I want to have a go!

On the subject of dicking around, this clip had me in hysterics. (I was late to the party for this song but better late than never I reckon)

This clip is the stuff fantasies are made of. I can't see a guy-on-guy dance OR hear this song without thinking about it. I actually just lost 20 minutes of writing time watching it repeatedly. *sigh*

In fact, I just lost a few hours going though my saved clips. Dammit!!