Thursday, December 23, 2010
Homage to the Savoy Ballroom Battle of the Bands
As one of the organizers of the new Southside Stomp! monthly dance in Hampton Roads I'm thrilled to have the opportunity to discuss the history of Lindy Hop.
As a result, I'm proud to say we'll be kicking off the inaugural Southside Stomp dance with a look back to a historic night in swing that happened almost exactly 72 years prior.
On January 16, 1938, just as Benny Goodman was wrapping up his famous Carnegie Hall concert, swing fans and dancers were racing uptown to catch an epic Swing event in New York’s Savoy Ballroom: the “Battle of the Bands” featuring the bandleaders, Chick Webb (with vocalist Ella Fitzgerald) and Count Basie (with vocalist Billie Holiday), playing head to head with the dancers deciding the winner.
What distinguished the two bands from one another was opposing sounds: Webb’s band was described as a “sensational whirlwind barrage,” that played at “breakneck tempos” and “novelty effects”; additionally Webb himself was a powerhouse behind the drums despite his limitations and short stature. Drumming legend Buddy Rich cites Webb’s powerful technique and virtuoso performances as heavily influential on his own drumming, and even referred to Webb as “the daddy of them all. The Basie Band’s swing, on the other hand, was more moderate and blues-oriented leading one spectator to describe the tone of the concert as “solid swing versus sensational swing.”
While fans of each band were quick to declare their favorites the winner most declared it a draw. You can read more about the famous contest here: Chick Webb Cuts Count Basie
You can also see video talking about Chick Webb's battle with Benny Goodman here.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Do You Want to Swing, Virginia?
What makes music swing?
Swing music is an 8 count rhythm meant for dancing, not listening. It’s characterized by use of a swing rhythm that accentuates the back beats of 2,4,6, and 8.
This differs from the European-based, straight rhythm that divided the beat evenly into equal eighth notes with the down beat (1, 3, 5 and 7) receiving the accent. Straight time sounds like this…
John Philip Sousa - Washington Post March
By comparison, swing music sounds like this (note the eight count phrasing and the emphasis on the back beat - the 2's, 4's, 6's and 8's and how it creates a drive and sense of energy)
Jump Session - Slam Stewart and Slim Gaillard
So, if it's jazz, does it automatically swings? No.
Some cerebral jazz isn't meant to be popular music for dancing and it's rhythms are non-swinging or even abstract. Here are a couple examples that probably won't set your toes to tapping:
Take Five - Dave Brubeck
Mingus Fingers - Charles Mingus
Getting Back To Music That Does Swing
Again, we're talking about an eight count phrasing with the accent on the back beat. For an even more obvious example, listen for the claps in Ella Fitzgerald's Sugarfoot Rag.
Sugarfoot Rag - Ella Fitzgerald
Another key characteristic of swing music is the use of syncopation by holding the first part of the beat longer and shortening the second half. This creates a feeling of 1 and-2 and-3, as can be heard in these two clips.
A Smooth One - Benny Goodman and Charlie Christian
Corner Pocket - Duke Ellington w/ Count Basie
Swing also makes use of riffs, or short melodic ideas used repeatedly in call-and-response patterns between different instruments in a band (often a brass instrument such as trumpet and trombone against a reed instrument such as the saxophone or clarinet. Here the call and response is between brass and piano.
Perdido - Johnny Hodges
Here, the call and response is between vocalists and the band -- note how each part is equally important. In the post swing era, tastes would change and ballad crooners like Frank Sinatra would be backed by muted background bands that were designed not to distract; but in swing music, the musicians are the kings and a vocalist was, at best, merely another melodic line.
Foo a Little Bally Hoo - Cab Calloway
Lastly, swing has always been about controlled improvisation. Musicians play each note with its own degree of emphasis and careful timing (some longer or shorter, quieter or louder, or as accented hits or silent breaks. In this way, every note takes on individual importance, and gives the dancer something to work with - to interpret.
Basin Street Blues - Wycliffe Gordon
Contemporary Swing
Hopefully I haven't left you with the impression that the Big Band Swing era is gone and all we're left with are scratchy old recordings. Clearly these musicians (and Wycliffe you heard above) would beg to differ...
Milenberg Joy - Gordon Webster (NY)
Man From Mars - Jonathon Stout and the Campus All Stars (Ca.)
Even Virginia's own Acme Swing Manufacturing from Charlottesville is serving up their own swinging modern takes of swing era songs for local dancers.
Bei Mir Bis Du Schoen - Acme Swing Manufacturing
Hopefully this gives you enough music theory to start thinking about what makes music swing.
What Have I Been Hearing Around Virginia Why Doesn't It Make Me Want to Swingout?
We've all been to dances w/ people standing around saying they're "just not feeling like dancing". Whether its DJ'ed music or a live band, it doesn't mean the musicians are bad, more correctly just that their music doesn't swing and they're not the right fit for lindy hop dancers.
Here are some examples and answers to your question of "why doesn't this make me want to swingout?"
Go Daddy-O - Big Bad Voodoo Daddy
Sure, it's rentlentlessly high energy, but every beat is accented equally; similarly there's no syncopation or variation, it just hammers on and on.
Crazy Little Thing Called Love - Michael Buble
Once again there's that rock and roll beat that makes you want to do the silly uncoordinated "that girl" dance. Not very swinging.
Nursery Rhyme Shuffle - Bobby Blackhat
Bobby Blackhat frequently plays in straight time rather than swing time and, although this clip does hit the back beats, listen to the metronome precise, non-syncopation of the eight notes. Its just dry, emotionless, and doesn't give you anything to dance to beyond the empty 8 count rhythm.
Come Fly With Me - Skylark Jazz Band
Come Fly With Me was recorded by crooner Frank Sinatra in 1958. Skylark does a good job of capturing that feeling; however, as mentioned earlier, the world had changed. The swing era wound down in 1946 when U.S. soldiers returned home to interests other than dancing and music could easily be heard at home without having to go to dance halls. The musical style had moved on -- the focus was now the singer, not the backing band and instead of a fellow dancer we were holding a fancy cocktail and snapping our fingers in place.
Come Fly with Me - Charles Darden
Nope, still not swinging. However, much of the crooner music is suitable for a Foxtrot, which utilizes a slow-slow-quick quick rhythm that has a gather (pause) between the 4 and 5. You can easily spot lindy hoppers who've been trained on Sinatra tunes because their swingouts will split in half at that 4-5 count and lose all momentum at precisely the moment where lindy hop is building it.
That's why Sinatra doesn't swing.
I Want To Hold Your Hand - The Beatles
This Beatles clip is proof that just because "it's older than me, so it's got to be swing" is a falsehood. The Beatles were never swing, they're mod rock and rollers.
Carolina Girls - General Johnson & The Chairmen of the Board
Carolina or Beach shag is a slotted swing dance using east coast swing footwork (triple step, triple step, rock step) and is meant to emphasize a leader's footwork rather than turns, spins, or moves that highlight the follow. Tempos are usually in the 100 to 125 bpm range and originally designed for dancing in sand rather than on a dance floor.
Tik Tok - Ke$ha
See above. Enough said.
Conclusion
If you're organizing or DJ'ing a lindy hop dance, you obviously need music that swings so hopefully none of this will be new. However, for anyone who's curious, there's plenty of information out there. For starters check out: http://www.swingdjs.com
or check out a nicely done children series of Youtube videos called Does It Swing?
http://www.youtube.com/user/doesitswing#p/a/u/0/mPZKvSZbZK8
Swing music is an 8 count rhythm meant for dancing, not listening. It’s characterized by use of a swing rhythm that accentuates the back beats of 2,4,6, and 8.
This differs from the European-based, straight rhythm that divided the beat evenly into equal eighth notes with the down beat (1, 3, 5 and 7) receiving the accent. Straight time sounds like this…
John Philip Sousa - Washington Post March
By comparison, swing music sounds like this (note the eight count phrasing and the emphasis on the back beat - the 2's, 4's, 6's and 8's and how it creates a drive and sense of energy)
Jump Session - Slam Stewart and Slim Gaillard
So, if it's jazz, does it automatically swings? No.
Some cerebral jazz isn't meant to be popular music for dancing and it's rhythms are non-swinging or even abstract. Here are a couple examples that probably won't set your toes to tapping:
Take Five - Dave Brubeck
Mingus Fingers - Charles Mingus
Getting Back To Music That Does Swing
Again, we're talking about an eight count phrasing with the accent on the back beat. For an even more obvious example, listen for the claps in Ella Fitzgerald's Sugarfoot Rag.
Sugarfoot Rag - Ella Fitzgerald
Another key characteristic of swing music is the use of syncopation by holding the first part of the beat longer and shortening the second half. This creates a feeling of 1 and-2 and-3, as can be heard in these two clips.
A Smooth One - Benny Goodman and Charlie Christian
Corner Pocket - Duke Ellington w/ Count Basie
Swing also makes use of riffs, or short melodic ideas used repeatedly in call-and-response patterns between different instruments in a band (often a brass instrument such as trumpet and trombone against a reed instrument such as the saxophone or clarinet. Here the call and response is between brass and piano.
Perdido - Johnny Hodges
Here, the call and response is between vocalists and the band -- note how each part is equally important. In the post swing era, tastes would change and ballad crooners like Frank Sinatra would be backed by muted background bands that were designed not to distract; but in swing music, the musicians are the kings and a vocalist was, at best, merely another melodic line.
Foo a Little Bally Hoo - Cab Calloway
Lastly, swing has always been about controlled improvisation. Musicians play each note with its own degree of emphasis and careful timing (some longer or shorter, quieter or louder, or as accented hits or silent breaks. In this way, every note takes on individual importance, and gives the dancer something to work with - to interpret.
Basin Street Blues - Wycliffe Gordon
Contemporary Swing
Hopefully I haven't left you with the impression that the Big Band Swing era is gone and all we're left with are scratchy old recordings. Clearly these musicians (and Wycliffe you heard above) would beg to differ...
Milenberg Joy - Gordon Webster (NY)
Man From Mars - Jonathon Stout and the Campus All Stars (Ca.)
Even Virginia's own Acme Swing Manufacturing from Charlottesville is serving up their own swinging modern takes of swing era songs for local dancers.
Bei Mir Bis Du Schoen - Acme Swing Manufacturing
Hopefully this gives you enough music theory to start thinking about what makes music swing.
What Have I Been Hearing Around Virginia Why Doesn't It Make Me Want to Swingout?
We've all been to dances w/ people standing around saying they're "just not feeling like dancing". Whether its DJ'ed music or a live band, it doesn't mean the musicians are bad, more correctly just that their music doesn't swing and they're not the right fit for lindy hop dancers.
Here are some examples and answers to your question of "why doesn't this make me want to swingout?"
Go Daddy-O - Big Bad Voodoo Daddy
Sure, it's rentlentlessly high energy, but every beat is accented equally; similarly there's no syncopation or variation, it just hammers on and on.
Crazy Little Thing Called Love - Michael Buble
Once again there's that rock and roll beat that makes you want to do the silly uncoordinated "that girl" dance. Not very swinging.
Nursery Rhyme Shuffle - Bobby Blackhat
Bobby Blackhat frequently plays in straight time rather than swing time and, although this clip does hit the back beats, listen to the metronome precise, non-syncopation of the eight notes. Its just dry, emotionless, and doesn't give you anything to dance to beyond the empty 8 count rhythm.
Come Fly With Me - Skylark Jazz Band
Come Fly With Me was recorded by crooner Frank Sinatra in 1958. Skylark does a good job of capturing that feeling; however, as mentioned earlier, the world had changed. The swing era wound down in 1946 when U.S. soldiers returned home to interests other than dancing and music could easily be heard at home without having to go to dance halls. The musical style had moved on -- the focus was now the singer, not the backing band and instead of a fellow dancer we were holding a fancy cocktail and snapping our fingers in place.
Come Fly with Me - Charles Darden
Nope, still not swinging. However, much of the crooner music is suitable for a Foxtrot, which utilizes a slow-slow-quick quick rhythm that has a gather (pause) between the 4 and 5. You can easily spot lindy hoppers who've been trained on Sinatra tunes because their swingouts will split in half at that 4-5 count and lose all momentum at precisely the moment where lindy hop is building it.
That's why Sinatra doesn't swing.
I Want To Hold Your Hand - The Beatles
This Beatles clip is proof that just because "it's older than me, so it's got to be swing" is a falsehood. The Beatles were never swing, they're mod rock and rollers.
Carolina Girls - General Johnson & The Chairmen of the Board
Carolina or Beach shag is a slotted swing dance using east coast swing footwork (triple step, triple step, rock step) and is meant to emphasize a leader's footwork rather than turns, spins, or moves that highlight the follow. Tempos are usually in the 100 to 125 bpm range and originally designed for dancing in sand rather than on a dance floor.
Tik Tok - Ke$ha
See above. Enough said.
Conclusion
If you're organizing or DJ'ing a lindy hop dance, you obviously need music that swings so hopefully none of this will be new. However, for anyone who's curious, there's plenty of information out there. For starters check out: http://www.swingdjs.com
or check out a nicely done children series of Youtube videos called Does It Swing?
http://www.youtube.com/user/doesitswing#p/a/u/0/mPZKvSZbZK8
Friday, November 5, 2010
Quotes by Duke Ellington about his "American Music"
Band leader and pianist, Duke Ellington called his music "American Music" rather than jazz. Here are some of his words and thoughts about music.
“What is music to you? What would you be without music? Music is everything. Nature is music (cicadas in the tropical night). The sea is music, the wind is music. The rain drumming on the roof and the storm raging in the sky are music. Music is the oldest entity. The scope of music is immense and infinite. It is the ‘esperanto’ of the world.”
"Roaming through the jungle of 'oohs' and 'ahs', searching for a more agreeable noise, I live a life of primitivity with the mind of a child and an unquenchable thirst for sharps and flats."
“Art is dangerous. It is one of the attractions: when it ceases to be dangerous you don't want it.”
“I never had much interest in the piano until I realized that every time I played, a girl would appear on the piano bench to my left and another to my right.”
“Music is my mistress and she plays second fiddle to no one.”
“By and large, jazz has always been like the kind of a man you wouldn’t want your daughter to associate with.”
“If it sounds good and feels good, then it IS good!”
“There is no art without intention. Playing music is like an act of murder; you play with intent to commit something."
“There are two kinds of music. Good music, and the other kind.”
“Playing ‘bop’ is like playing Scrabble with all the vowels missing.”
“It don’t mean a thing if it ain’t got that swing.”
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Have Lindy and Blues Events Reached the Point of Over-saturation?
(or “I smell what you’re offering to exchange and I don’t want to step in it”)
For about the last year I’ve been making the argument that the poor economy has led to a massive influx of novice organizers, who haven't been able to find fledgling careers to commit to, to try their hand at throwing dance events. Similarly, it seems every small scene with 4 or 5 dancers and some nook or cranny to dance in is throwing a full blown exchange. Sadly, what's resulted is an over-saturation of poorly planned and/or executed events that leave me wondering where is the value for the price they’re charging and what they are hyping?
One thing I remain absolutely adamant about,
- Words have specific meanings and create specific expectations –
Phrases like, “nationally known DJ’s”, “live swing bands”, “hosting available”, “free”… even the terms “lindy” or “blues exchange” themselves. Truthfully, I believe, if your home lindy or blues scene can fit in one or two vehicles, you can’t throw an actual exchange, you can merely throw a party. That doesn't mean it can't be an awesome dance party, it's just lacks the resources to be a full exchange.
Also, a list of recommended hotel accommodations is not "offering housing." Lindy bombing a street festival where the local municipality has hired an Elvis impersonator is not “4 hours of continuous lindy dancing”, neglecting to point out someone has to pay a $7 parking or entrance fee to a 3rd party means that event is no longer “Free." Letting someone play music off their laptop doesn't make them a swing DJ.
In the last month I’ve been invited to a couple “exchanges” that have me particularly shaking my head and wondering where things are headed.
The first incident was a trio of new organizers who were completely forthright (although misinformed) in their advertising of their new blues event, which, they said, would bring blues to the southeast, where there's never been any blues scenes or events before. They explained blues has gotten too prissy with its ballroom's and instruction & their event was a dirty, raw, blues bomb to bar bands w/ plenty of drunken grinding & beer. They mentioned the local swing club had told them they weren’t cool enough to hang out with them since they didn’t care about technical partnered dancing, just blues and enough beer to enjoy the dirty thrill of it. To drive their point home, they’ve added a soul, modern tango, and fusion pajama party late night.”
This event offended me on many levels. First, it discounted and ignored the efforts of Mike the Girl Legett and her "Enter the Blues" team and other blues dancers in Atlanta, as well as the organizers of I Dance Blues in Durham. Secondly, I found the marketing to be divisive and disrespectful of the lindy hoppers in that city. Lastly, and most importantly, it further reinforced the stereotype that in the mid-Atlantic states while female organizers want to run events stressing the quality of the dance, for male blues dancers its all about the bump and grind in dark rooms. This was a real step backwards from all the hard work that people like Mike Marcotte in DC and many, many others have put in to bring blues dancing to a level of respectability.
The other event that took a wonderful idea and crushed it was a lindy exchange tacked onto an annual Winter Festival at a national historic site. Unfortunately, it was organized single handedly by an instructor whose scene is mostly 14-16 year old children and a handful of ballroom couples in their 60's. She contacted me to asking, although she had no budget to hire me, other DJs or bands, would I help recruit her a team of DJ's willing to play for free?
Within a one month period the event was publicly billed as costing $60, refunded and reduced to $30, further reduced to $10, raised back up to $30, then slashed to $11 plus the event went from no bands, to 2, then 3, then 5, then a couple got cancelled, replaced, and the schedule reworked from scratch almost daily within the last 2 weeks. The final lineup was a couple Sinatra crooner bands, a bluegrass/hot trio, the local college jazz band, and even a fife and drum procession. Meanwhile "Hosting" for the event was billed as any available hotel space not booked by visiting holiday tourists in town for the event. This is simply just not a lindy exchange... nor even a professionally marketed dance event that truthfully has any chance of attracting outside dancers.
Honestly, I love fun as much as the next person, but seriously, this recent explosion of every single collection of 2 or more blues or lindy dancers feeling they need “to throw their own exchange in order to be taken seriously, feel loved and respected, or make a name for themselves” is a load of crap. If that's your motivation buy a puppy or see a shrink, do not ask people to travel hours and hours and give you money for a poorly thought out, poorly executed product that will underwhelm and actually diminish the opinion of your area in the dance community.
When I first started DJ’ing, one of the top DJ’s on the east coast approached me after a set to say, “I owe you an apology. I’ve heard your name for a while but never took you seriously because I heard you were from Virginia Beach and automatically assumed you sucked.” Trust me, sometimes there are worse things in life than not having made a name for yourself or putting your scene on the map.
Before deciding you need to have your name on the marquee, why not consider helping established organizers run respected events and find out why they don’t embellish their marketing or short change their musicians, teachers or DJ’s? Also, learn why they confirm their logistical arrangements and are aware of what others are doing in scenes around them BEFORE adding theirs to an already crowded weekend. The reason why organizers network and share their experiences as to what has worked or not worked for them and come up with some loose "best practices" about how to plan events is because these lessons have been sometimes hard learned and they work.
I’m sorry to wrap myself in my “blanket of elitism” but we’re at the point where we don’t need any more half-baked, poorly planned, over-hyped events that underwhelm but overcharge. They do everyone a disservice and just provide unnecessary noise and distraction that cloud the water for those looking to spend their money most effectively.
If you don't have a burning passion for dance that goes beyond your own ego and an attention to details that most can find boring as mud or too tedious to care about, please leave event planning to those who do. The dance community deserves that much respect.
For about the last year I’ve been making the argument that the poor economy has led to a massive influx of novice organizers, who haven't been able to find fledgling careers to commit to, to try their hand at throwing dance events. Similarly, it seems every small scene with 4 or 5 dancers and some nook or cranny to dance in is throwing a full blown exchange. Sadly, what's resulted is an over-saturation of poorly planned and/or executed events that leave me wondering where is the value for the price they’re charging and what they are hyping?
One thing I remain absolutely adamant about,
- Words have specific meanings and create specific expectations –
Phrases like, “nationally known DJ’s”, “live swing bands”, “hosting available”, “free”… even the terms “lindy” or “blues exchange” themselves. Truthfully, I believe, if your home lindy or blues scene can fit in one or two vehicles, you can’t throw an actual exchange, you can merely throw a party. That doesn't mean it can't be an awesome dance party, it's just lacks the resources to be a full exchange.
Also, a list of recommended hotel accommodations is not "offering housing." Lindy bombing a street festival where the local municipality has hired an Elvis impersonator is not “4 hours of continuous lindy dancing”, neglecting to point out someone has to pay a $7 parking or entrance fee to a 3rd party means that event is no longer “Free." Letting someone play music off their laptop doesn't make them a swing DJ.
In the last month I’ve been invited to a couple “exchanges” that have me particularly shaking my head and wondering where things are headed.
The first incident was a trio of new organizers who were completely forthright (although misinformed) in their advertising of their new blues event, which, they said, would bring blues to the southeast, where there's never been any blues scenes or events before. They explained blues has gotten too prissy with its ballroom's and instruction & their event was a dirty, raw, blues bomb to bar bands w/ plenty of drunken grinding & beer. They mentioned the local swing club had told them they weren’t cool enough to hang out with them since they didn’t care about technical partnered dancing, just blues and enough beer to enjoy the dirty thrill of it. To drive their point home, they’ve added a soul, modern tango, and fusion pajama party late night.”
This event offended me on many levels. First, it discounted and ignored the efforts of Mike the Girl Legett and her "Enter the Blues" team and other blues dancers in Atlanta, as well as the organizers of I Dance Blues in Durham. Secondly, I found the marketing to be divisive and disrespectful of the lindy hoppers in that city. Lastly, and most importantly, it further reinforced the stereotype that in the mid-Atlantic states while female organizers want to run events stressing the quality of the dance, for male blues dancers its all about the bump and grind in dark rooms. This was a real step backwards from all the hard work that people like Mike Marcotte in DC and many, many others have put in to bring blues dancing to a level of respectability.
The other event that took a wonderful idea and crushed it was a lindy exchange tacked onto an annual Winter Festival at a national historic site. Unfortunately, it was organized single handedly by an instructor whose scene is mostly 14-16 year old children and a handful of ballroom couples in their 60's. She contacted me to asking, although she had no budget to hire me, other DJs or bands, would I help recruit her a team of DJ's willing to play for free?
Within a one month period the event was publicly billed as costing $60, refunded and reduced to $30, further reduced to $10, raised back up to $30, then slashed to $11 plus the event went from no bands, to 2, then 3, then 5, then a couple got cancelled, replaced, and the schedule reworked from scratch almost daily within the last 2 weeks. The final lineup was a couple Sinatra crooner bands, a bluegrass/hot trio, the local college jazz band, and even a fife and drum procession. Meanwhile "Hosting" for the event was billed as any available hotel space not booked by visiting holiday tourists in town for the event. This is simply just not a lindy exchange... nor even a professionally marketed dance event that truthfully has any chance of attracting outside dancers.
Honestly, I love fun as much as the next person, but seriously, this recent explosion of every single collection of 2 or more blues or lindy dancers feeling they need “to throw their own exchange in order to be taken seriously, feel loved and respected, or make a name for themselves” is a load of crap. If that's your motivation buy a puppy or see a shrink, do not ask people to travel hours and hours and give you money for a poorly thought out, poorly executed product that will underwhelm and actually diminish the opinion of your area in the dance community.
When I first started DJ’ing, one of the top DJ’s on the east coast approached me after a set to say, “I owe you an apology. I’ve heard your name for a while but never took you seriously because I heard you were from Virginia Beach and automatically assumed you sucked.” Trust me, sometimes there are worse things in life than not having made a name for yourself or putting your scene on the map.
Before deciding you need to have your name on the marquee, why not consider helping established organizers run respected events and find out why they don’t embellish their marketing or short change their musicians, teachers or DJ’s? Also, learn why they confirm their logistical arrangements and are aware of what others are doing in scenes around them BEFORE adding theirs to an already crowded weekend. The reason why organizers network and share their experiences as to what has worked or not worked for them and come up with some loose "best practices" about how to plan events is because these lessons have been sometimes hard learned and they work.
I’m sorry to wrap myself in my “blanket of elitism” but we’re at the point where we don’t need any more half-baked, poorly planned, over-hyped events that underwhelm but overcharge. They do everyone a disservice and just provide unnecessary noise and distraction that cloud the water for those looking to spend their money most effectively.
If you don't have a burning passion for dance that goes beyond your own ego and an attention to details that most can find boring as mud or too tedious to care about, please leave event planning to those who do. The dance community deserves that much respect.
Saturday, October 9, 2010
An Interview with JOTJ organizer, Andy Nishida
Richmond's annual JotJ workshop weekend is only a week away and, with the excitement building, we caught up with organizer Andy Nishida to ask him a few questions about Virginia's longest running lindy weekend.
Q. So this is the 8th year for JotJ, that's practically a lindy hop lifetime. Did you and Rita originally envision the event would have such longevity?
A. Eight years is a long time! It's always a year-to-year decision if we're going to do it again, so no, we never dreamed it would be around this long. It's a lot of hard work and financially stressful at times but the weekend is always a lot of fun and is usually enough to convince us to do it again.
Q. What do you think makes Jammin' on the James special?
A. I think it's the small friendly vibe. We're not big like a lot of other regional events which are a lot of fun and very inspiring but one can sometimes feel lost in it all, especially a beginning Lindy Hopper. I've had past attendees tell me not to let JotJ get any bigger than it is. And we've made improvements (e.g., went from 2 to 4 instructors, added a beginner track and advanced classes, having a competition) over the years that have made it better but not necessarily too much bigger, so I think we've been able to retain that intimate feel.
Q. What are your event goals? What one thing would you like dancers to come away with?
A. Our goals now and when we started Jammin' was to bring world-class instructors to the area who maybe don't come to the mid-Atlantic states very often and provide the opportunity to our dancers to learn from the best. It's really all about allowing dancers to improve and realize what Lindy Hop can be for them and to inspire them to get better and to just have fun.
Q. Richmond's @ the center of many small local scenes: do you see JotJ as a local or regional event? Or based on the calibre of your instructors, are you a small national event. How do you define yourself.
A. We're definitely a regional event. I'm pretty sure we're not on the radar of dancers west of say Ohio although we've had random folks come from Colorado, California, Michigan, etc. Pretty much our radius of influence is about 500 miles or so.
Q. What level of dancer do you think would benefit the most from JotJ?
A. Although we have instruction to satisfy every level of dancer, I'd think those in the early intermediate stages will benefit most. They're at that stage where they've got the basics well in mind and they're starving to learn more. Also those who take the beginner track. They've made the brave decision to come out and learn to dance and they'll receive instruction from some of the best dancers on the planet and they'll hopefully be inspired by the dancing they see, the live music they hear, and the energy in the room at the dances.
Thanks, Andy. We'll see you on the 15th!
For more information and to register, check out
http://www.jamminonthejames.com/
Q. So this is the 8th year for JotJ, that's practically a lindy hop lifetime. Did you and Rita originally envision the event would have such longevity?
A. Eight years is a long time! It's always a year-to-year decision if we're going to do it again, so no, we never dreamed it would be around this long. It's a lot of hard work and financially stressful at times but the weekend is always a lot of fun and is usually enough to convince us to do it again.
Q. What do you think makes Jammin' on the James special?
A. I think it's the small friendly vibe. We're not big like a lot of other regional events which are a lot of fun and very inspiring but one can sometimes feel lost in it all, especially a beginning Lindy Hopper. I've had past attendees tell me not to let JotJ get any bigger than it is. And we've made improvements (e.g., went from 2 to 4 instructors, added a beginner track and advanced classes, having a competition) over the years that have made it better but not necessarily too much bigger, so I think we've been able to retain that intimate feel.
Q. What are your event goals? What one thing would you like dancers to come away with?
A. Our goals now and when we started Jammin' was to bring world-class instructors to the area who maybe don't come to the mid-Atlantic states very often and provide the opportunity to our dancers to learn from the best. It's really all about allowing dancers to improve and realize what Lindy Hop can be for them and to inspire them to get better and to just have fun.
Q. Richmond's @ the center of many small local scenes: do you see JotJ as a local or regional event? Or based on the calibre of your instructors, are you a small national event. How do you define yourself.
A. We're definitely a regional event. I'm pretty sure we're not on the radar of dancers west of say Ohio although we've had random folks come from Colorado, California, Michigan, etc. Pretty much our radius of influence is about 500 miles or so.
Q. What level of dancer do you think would benefit the most from JotJ?
A. Although we have instruction to satisfy every level of dancer, I'd think those in the early intermediate stages will benefit most. They're at that stage where they've got the basics well in mind and they're starving to learn more. Also those who take the beginner track. They've made the brave decision to come out and learn to dance and they'll receive instruction from some of the best dancers on the planet and they'll hopefully be inspired by the dancing they see, the live music they hear, and the energy in the room at the dances.
Thanks, Andy. We'll see you on the 15th!
For more information and to register, check out
http://www.jamminonthejames.com/
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Trust, Growth, Contribution & Meaning - the 4 Things Dancers Need From Scene Leaders
I am frequently approached by dance organizers seeking advice about creating a successful dance scene. While, at first, many of their questions sound like they're about logistics or marketing, very often they're basic business management questions that boil down to either, "How do I play nice with others to create something appealing?" or "How do I compete with someone who doesn't play nice with others without becoming that way myself?"
While most realize building a dance scene is a business, very few scene leaders actually consider sound business management principles when looking to build a vibrant, sustainable dance scene. It's important for leaders to realize what they are offering - they're not selling food, shelter or any other necessity that people need to survive... they are selling a dream... I want to be "a dancer."
How do you sell something as unsellable as a dream? To quote George Ross, "To be successful, you have to be able to relate to people; they have to be satisfied with your personality to be able to do business with you and to build a relationship built on mutual trust." This is particularly true in the world of dancing, which is all about communicating with others, and taking the risk of expressing oneself creatively in a public setting. In short, make people happy and inspired.
Why do you want to make dancers happy? Because the big secret to creating a successful dance scene, which in turn leads to successful events, is merely to make people happy. Merely sell the happy dream of "I want to be a dancer."
Traditional business management says to workers, 'I'm the leader – you're the follower; I have something you need (money) and you have something I need (labor). Let's make an exchange.' At its basic level, this is like the dance organizer who says, “I don’t need input on how I run things. I just need your money from registering for my events so I can keep telling you where to put your feet.”
Successful leaders understand there is something bigger at work. An article by Dr. Cleve Stevens in the Harvard Business Review lays out the "Four Things Employees Need From Leaders"; not surprisingly, they are also applicable to building a vibrant dance scene with happy dancers.
The 4 key things dancers need to be happy:
1. The need to love and be loved
People need to feel focused concern and action directed at them for their personal good - this means personal loyalty and ethical behavior that shows respect, the ability to listen and critique fairly and appropriately, and ability to create an environment where a person feels safe from injury or ridicule. If newer dancers are getting injured during your lessons or dropping out because your scene feels elitist or creepy, the problem lies not with the potential new dancers, but with you for not providing a safe, welcoming environment.
These basic concepts are vital to building a reputation that encourages people to come out, and then continue coming out, to support you. Sadly, they are all too often overlooked when someone decides people will think they're cool if they're the one with their name on an event or teaching how to do a swingout.
Additionally, organizers don't become successful or host packed events by merely pointing out where other events fall short; rather, they put their energies into competing positively against THEMSELVES and besting their own track record of making clients (dancers) feel loved. Be the positive change you want to see in the dance world.
2. The need to grow
Nobody wants to keep doing the same thing over and over or merely show up hoping to maintain their current skill level enough to avoid decay. People want to be inspired to learn new things. Some will want a stiff challenge, others not as challenging, but people thrive on novelty.
Not the strongest instructor with the most solid footwork? That's okay, organizers aren't perfect at everything. Resist the urge to teach anyway and share the spotlight by recruiting a skilled, engaging instructor that inspires people and you'll score big points in people's books... besides maybe you'll even learn a couple things yourself and reignite your own passion.
3. The need to contribute
Feeling that somehow we're not contributing to a community can lead to a gnawing worry about our own adequacy or value. But when we make a contribution to it in a significant way and receive positive validation from the group, it brings an inexplicable peace of mind -- we feel we belong to something and our opinions are valued. Life works best when we are able to forget ourselves and contribute to others. In the corporate realm, to feel fulfilled and empowered, employees must know they are contributing to the whole.
I was recently at a dance where the organizer promoted himself extensively during announcements and concluded with "well, if nobody has anything else, let's get back to dancing." When one of the locals chimed in with "something else", the organizer's body language and audible sigh made it clear, her contribution was not welcome. Something as simple as being a good listener and allowing someone to feel like their ideas matter is an easy way to create happy dancers.
4. The need for meaning
We are meaning-seeking creatures. If our lives lack a clear sense of meaning, if we are not engaged in some larger purpose, we will not be fully satisfied. People need to know how a specific task fits into the bigger picture. 'Step, step, triple step' gets pretty darned repetitive and discouraging in a tiny sealed room with 20 people in it each week if they do not know about the existence of a world wide lindy hop community. Share inspiring moments and ideas from exchanges, workshops and competition to inspire your dancers to experiment, question, dream and to travel.
In conclusion, like a successful business (which a dance scene is), organizers need to embrace concepts that demonstrate a clear commitment and respect for local dancers, not merely see them as a replaceable revenue source to keep dance parties going or let you be the dance star you aspire to be. In other words, build a dance scene that is an endless series of relationships built on mutual trust.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Stompology (or “MTV Made: I want to be a Jazz Dancer”) - part 2
I’ll admit; I’ve got a weakness for NY state and I was thrilled to be flying in and seeing the city of Rochester pop up out of nothing but fields of green. I was picked up at the airport, had a great dinner, and a few hours later stepping into a fourth floor walkup dance studio to hear local musicians, the Rod Blumenau Swingtet, swinging the heck out of the place.
Truth be told, as I was pushing open the door, I didn’t know what to expect. Would I walk in and see everyone dancing solo or dancing in lots of Charleston or tap jam circles? But there nothing unusual here; just a very friendly group of solid dancers with good musicality dancing to unexpectedly great music from a local band all night. Even better, all the instructors were right there dancing with anyone who asked (even lowly me who truthfully, didn't recognize instructor Bethany Powell when I asked). Heck, with all the familiar faces it made me feel like a small Swing out New Hampshire camp reunion. It was an incredibly fun (but warm) dance with few people sitting any out.
The highlight for me was about 30 minutes in when I asked Sharon to dance and, as the song was winding down, I realized the ending would be perfect to try Juan’s cute hook slide I’d stolen from Scram (or thought I had and would just have to find out). So, I set it up and nailed it perfectly only to feel an odd bump that left me thinking I’d screwed it up until I realized it was Sharon draping herself onto my side as she’d done in their routine and we both cracked up. Yup, 6 months of “what if?” day dream thoughts and it played out perfectly 30 minutes into the weekend. Of course, friends immediately joked, “Should we hand you your keys and you can drive home now having fulfilled your goal?” Instead, I beamed sheer joy and followed it up with my of my most enjoyable dances ever with Mike the girl. This weekend was going to be awesome!
Afterwards we were off the famed “Lindy Compound” for the late night, a fabled venue no one in our car had been to before. We all agreed the name conjured up images of Waco, Texas and we joked that we expected to find out buildings where follows in home sewn clothing communally raised the next generation of lindy hoppers. In truth, it was a house party in a home that was nicely decorated for, and by, dancers with enough space for any event they’d want to throw. As an aside, Sharon Davis was in the kitchen whipping up a quick little something. Yeah, add some cooking ability to the gal’s impressive list of skills.
I’ll admit, I was pretty fried so I found a very comfy couch after schmoozing and grabbing food in the kitchen and drifted in and out over the next couple hours to the sounds of dancing, merriment, and Juan Villafane giving out beatings on the home made arcade game in the corner. It was awesome to be at a house party where people all bring something and its real food, not just 30 different brands of chips and generic salsa.
Saturday morning brought the classes. Unfortunately the room temperature was too hot, but we just affectionately named the room the “Stompology Sweatlodge” and carried on in best NYS Indian nation tradition.
Struttin' & Cakewalkin' with Juan - Learn how to strut, kick and cakewalk like the great Nyas Berry of the Berry Brothers! The material was just different and physically challenging enough to really get us working hard and having a heck of a good time. It also gave you a good idea about the physical conditioning, dedication and historical accuracy Juan brings to his dancing. It was inspiring.
Fred & Ginger with Falty and Bethany - a class inspired by the ultimate in classic dance couples. Where Juan’s class worked us out, this one offered refinement and light, playful footwork. My tap really came in handy here and I came away vowing to watch all of Fred and Ginger’s movies.
Beatniks - Learn Sharon's fun new Beatnik jazz routine, with hot jazz and charleston steps given a Bop vibe. Sip an espresso, don your black turtleneck and beret, and come join the Beat generation. Bongos and beat poetry at the late night party. Words are almost insufficient. It’s Sharon Davis, my main dance crush, being silly and creative and teaching us completely off the wall stuff that still worked and got us thinking and moving in new ways. Plus, this time I’m taking her class without pneumonia in a weekend where I'm holding my own with everyone else in the place..
For the fellas: 50's Style Savoy Applejacks. This was an outdoor class late in the afternoon and I’ll admit I was too tired and unwilling to risk my knees dancing on the somewhat uneven grass. However, I did video tape the lesson to work on at home because it looked like a lot of helpful stuff to practice. Meanwhile, the followers were inside working on their slow and sassy.
All in all, it was a great day of classes. Certainly not your basic lindy workshop and not anything crazily impossible and full of itself like some jazz classes can seem to outsiders; it was just dancers playing around with new ideas - Granted, all very much younger than me (in their twenties) but that didn’t matter at all.
I did secretly wish the only person there who was my age wasn’t that “Jay Peterman dude who kicks everyone all the time hard enough to leave big bruises.” Still, it motivated me to be a good example for their parent’s generation… lol. For the record, learning solo jazz did nothing to get JP to dance smaller. Happily, he only threw his follows (who didn’t actively kick when they hit) into me twice, so it’s all good… unless you were Beth or Sharon’s (or others') shins.
Saturday night’s dance featured The Baby Soda Jazz Band and they were awesome. I can't imagine having access to bands like this in my home town (or state). Heck, this whole weekend was really making me miss my old home in NY.
There were at most 100 dancers in the room and again, all the instructors were dancing with everyone. One of the coolest things was when I started doing some solo stuff in the corner at one point Sharon and a few others nearby just smiled or did anything that gave me a sense of being judged or feeling incompetent. It was just me playing around with the music using my fledging "baby steps towards solo jazz".
After the main dance wound down it was back to the Lindy Compound for another late night. I found my comfy couch amongst the social folks. Craig Sparks joked that Juan beating him in Mortal Combat opened up a whole new arena of things for him to feel inferior to Juan about. Meanwhile, I found myself chatting with Sharon and listening to stories of her last year or two of travels, dancing, music and life in general and suddenly 3 hours had gone by. Yeah, choosing the intimate setting of Stompology over a larger camp was a great idea that gave me time to catch up with friends who are usually busy working at other events. In fact, I learned that in Asia there's usually a schedule of who'll get to dance with the instructors in what order for every song of every dance and if you're not # such and such on the list by the start of the weekend, you're locked out. "Next up, dancer #36; on deck, #37, wait over here please..."
Although we didn't get much sleep, Sunday morning we were all on our way to classes saying it was too bad they didn't start earlier. As an aside, Greg Sparks and my house buddies who stopped so I could get coffee are the most awesome bunch of guys ever. Apparently, there is an unspoken of conspiracy to only house me with non-coffee drinkers for someone's twisted amusement.
Our first class was working on a fusion routine with Bethany Powell set to "I Can't Give You Anything But Love" by Rose Murphy. Her teaching/dance style was a bit different from what I was used to and while her class was fun and challenging, I personally didn’t completely love it the way I had everything earlier. Maybe because it was pushing me even further away from my comfort when I was hoping for a little anchor to things I knew. Still a fun class and it was my first time stringing together jazz steps (as eights and some of them tried for the first time) into a routine, which went much better than I expected. A very nice confidence builder.
Ballin' the Jack. Ballin' the Jack as a dance and a popular tune has its roots stretching back to the 1910s, and headline dancers were performing their interpretations of it well into the 1950s (Judy Garland and Gene Kelly in the 1942 film For Me & My Gal, Dean Martin in That's My Boy in 1951, and even Danny Kaye in On The Riviera in 1951). This was Juan and Sharon teaching us their version and somehow I was rocking it. Completely fun, a bit campy and over the top, and a great way for the instructors to pass along a lot of things to work on, like Juan sharing the secrets of how he spins. Also, to hear them speak about how they worked out things themselves as they learned it.
Soft Shoe. This tap class was inspired by Frankie Manning's son, tap dancer extraordinaire, Chazz Young. Yay for tap. Fun, fun, fun. I was amazed at what a large percentage of people took this class as if it were just any other and how well we all did. There was no sense of, “oh, I don’t do that tap stuff.” Falty is awesome as an instructor, so it just flowed and my feet did it... most of it... and he pointed out, if you really felt like you had it all down, just do it on the other side and you had twice the amount of the lesson for the price you paid.
The last class of the weekend was Falty, Sharon, Juan, and Bethany dividing the group into 4 groups and taking us into corners of the room and giving us 5 minute mini-lessons that were some of the most important and telling things of the weekend. Juan talking about physical conditioning and sharing exercises to strengthen muscles to do what he does; Sharon sharing how to get into and out of some of the moves she does and the illusion of things, Falty getting us thinking of tap and Bethany answering questions about motivations and creativity. It was unexpectedly revealing and I felt like I’d stepped back stage to learn tons of secrets that may have taken me a decade or 2 to master.
Sunday night I ended up getting stranded at the airport with no ride home due to bad weather in DC so I drove back to the after party, which turned out to be a wonderful stroke of luck. What an amazing gathering. Locals, all the instructors and some stragglers hanging out at a parent’s house, grilling, socializing, eating, gathering around a piano to play and sing old songs and then curling up outdoors to watch vintage black and white film clips on an old projector before gathering in the kitchen to share more stories about dancing in Asia and other far off corners of the world. A magical evening.
A few hours later I was on a plane back to Virginia, thoroughly convinced I’d return next year and happy that this time I'd have an entire year to prepare. Who knows what I’ll be able to do with all that time? However, Gabrielle Kern's T-shirt from the weekend, "One time I rocked it so hard I killed a man" does pop into mind.
Truth be told, as I was pushing open the door, I didn’t know what to expect. Would I walk in and see everyone dancing solo or dancing in lots of Charleston or tap jam circles? But there nothing unusual here; just a very friendly group of solid dancers with good musicality dancing to unexpectedly great music from a local band all night. Even better, all the instructors were right there dancing with anyone who asked (even lowly me who truthfully, didn't recognize instructor Bethany Powell when I asked). Heck, with all the familiar faces it made me feel like a small Swing out New Hampshire camp reunion. It was an incredibly fun (but warm) dance with few people sitting any out.
The highlight for me was about 30 minutes in when I asked Sharon to dance and, as the song was winding down, I realized the ending would be perfect to try Juan’s cute hook slide I’d stolen from Scram (or thought I had and would just have to find out). So, I set it up and nailed it perfectly only to feel an odd bump that left me thinking I’d screwed it up until I realized it was Sharon draping herself onto my side as she’d done in their routine and we both cracked up. Yup, 6 months of “what if?” day dream thoughts and it played out perfectly 30 minutes into the weekend. Of course, friends immediately joked, “Should we hand you your keys and you can drive home now having fulfilled your goal?” Instead, I beamed sheer joy and followed it up with my of my most enjoyable dances ever with Mike the girl. This weekend was going to be awesome!
Afterwards we were off the famed “Lindy Compound” for the late night, a fabled venue no one in our car had been to before. We all agreed the name conjured up images of Waco, Texas and we joked that we expected to find out buildings where follows in home sewn clothing communally raised the next generation of lindy hoppers. In truth, it was a house party in a home that was nicely decorated for, and by, dancers with enough space for any event they’d want to throw. As an aside, Sharon Davis was in the kitchen whipping up a quick little something. Yeah, add some cooking ability to the gal’s impressive list of skills.
I’ll admit, I was pretty fried so I found a very comfy couch after schmoozing and grabbing food in the kitchen and drifted in and out over the next couple hours to the sounds of dancing, merriment, and Juan Villafane giving out beatings on the home made arcade game in the corner. It was awesome to be at a house party where people all bring something and its real food, not just 30 different brands of chips and generic salsa.
Saturday morning brought the classes. Unfortunately the room temperature was too hot, but we just affectionately named the room the “Stompology Sweatlodge” and carried on in best NYS Indian nation tradition.
Struttin' & Cakewalkin' with Juan - Learn how to strut, kick and cakewalk like the great Nyas Berry of the Berry Brothers! The material was just different and physically challenging enough to really get us working hard and having a heck of a good time. It also gave you a good idea about the physical conditioning, dedication and historical accuracy Juan brings to his dancing. It was inspiring.
Fred & Ginger with Falty and Bethany - a class inspired by the ultimate in classic dance couples. Where Juan’s class worked us out, this one offered refinement and light, playful footwork. My tap really came in handy here and I came away vowing to watch all of Fred and Ginger’s movies.
Beatniks - Learn Sharon's fun new Beatnik jazz routine, with hot jazz and charleston steps given a Bop vibe. Sip an espresso, don your black turtleneck and beret, and come join the Beat generation. Bongos and beat poetry at the late night party. Words are almost insufficient. It’s Sharon Davis, my main dance crush, being silly and creative and teaching us completely off the wall stuff that still worked and got us thinking and moving in new ways. Plus, this time I’m taking her class without pneumonia in a weekend where I'm holding my own with everyone else in the place..
For the fellas: 50's Style Savoy Applejacks. This was an outdoor class late in the afternoon and I’ll admit I was too tired and unwilling to risk my knees dancing on the somewhat uneven grass. However, I did video tape the lesson to work on at home because it looked like a lot of helpful stuff to practice. Meanwhile, the followers were inside working on their slow and sassy.
All in all, it was a great day of classes. Certainly not your basic lindy workshop and not anything crazily impossible and full of itself like some jazz classes can seem to outsiders; it was just dancers playing around with new ideas - Granted, all very much younger than me (in their twenties) but that didn’t matter at all.
I did secretly wish the only person there who was my age wasn’t that “Jay Peterman dude who kicks everyone all the time hard enough to leave big bruises.” Still, it motivated me to be a good example for their parent’s generation… lol. For the record, learning solo jazz did nothing to get JP to dance smaller. Happily, he only threw his follows (who didn’t actively kick when they hit) into me twice, so it’s all good… unless you were Beth or Sharon’s (or others') shins.
Saturday night’s dance featured The Baby Soda Jazz Band and they were awesome. I can't imagine having access to bands like this in my home town (or state). Heck, this whole weekend was really making me miss my old home in NY.
There were at most 100 dancers in the room and again, all the instructors were dancing with everyone. One of the coolest things was when I started doing some solo stuff in the corner at one point Sharon and a few others nearby just smiled or did anything that gave me a sense of being judged or feeling incompetent. It was just me playing around with the music using my fledging "baby steps towards solo jazz".
After the main dance wound down it was back to the Lindy Compound for another late night. I found my comfy couch amongst the social folks. Craig Sparks joked that Juan beating him in Mortal Combat opened up a whole new arena of things for him to feel inferior to Juan about. Meanwhile, I found myself chatting with Sharon and listening to stories of her last year or two of travels, dancing, music and life in general and suddenly 3 hours had gone by. Yeah, choosing the intimate setting of Stompology over a larger camp was a great idea that gave me time to catch up with friends who are usually busy working at other events. In fact, I learned that in Asia there's usually a schedule of who'll get to dance with the instructors in what order for every song of every dance and if you're not # such and such on the list by the start of the weekend, you're locked out. "Next up, dancer #36; on deck, #37, wait over here please..."
Although we didn't get much sleep, Sunday morning we were all on our way to classes saying it was too bad they didn't start earlier. As an aside, Greg Sparks and my house buddies who stopped so I could get coffee are the most awesome bunch of guys ever. Apparently, there is an unspoken of conspiracy to only house me with non-coffee drinkers for someone's twisted amusement.
Our first class was working on a fusion routine with Bethany Powell set to "I Can't Give You Anything But Love" by Rose Murphy. Her teaching/dance style was a bit different from what I was used to and while her class was fun and challenging, I personally didn’t completely love it the way I had everything earlier. Maybe because it was pushing me even further away from my comfort when I was hoping for a little anchor to things I knew. Still a fun class and it was my first time stringing together jazz steps (as eights and some of them tried for the first time) into a routine, which went much better than I expected. A very nice confidence builder.
Ballin' the Jack. Ballin' the Jack as a dance and a popular tune has its roots stretching back to the 1910s, and headline dancers were performing their interpretations of it well into the 1950s (Judy Garland and Gene Kelly in the 1942 film For Me & My Gal, Dean Martin in That's My Boy in 1951, and even Danny Kaye in On The Riviera in 1951). This was Juan and Sharon teaching us their version and somehow I was rocking it. Completely fun, a bit campy and over the top, and a great way for the instructors to pass along a lot of things to work on, like Juan sharing the secrets of how he spins. Also, to hear them speak about how they worked out things themselves as they learned it.
Soft Shoe. This tap class was inspired by Frankie Manning's son, tap dancer extraordinaire, Chazz Young. Yay for tap. Fun, fun, fun. I was amazed at what a large percentage of people took this class as if it were just any other and how well we all did. There was no sense of, “oh, I don’t do that tap stuff.” Falty is awesome as an instructor, so it just flowed and my feet did it... most of it... and he pointed out, if you really felt like you had it all down, just do it on the other side and you had twice the amount of the lesson for the price you paid.
The last class of the weekend was Falty, Sharon, Juan, and Bethany dividing the group into 4 groups and taking us into corners of the room and giving us 5 minute mini-lessons that were some of the most important and telling things of the weekend. Juan talking about physical conditioning and sharing exercises to strengthen muscles to do what he does; Sharon sharing how to get into and out of some of the moves she does and the illusion of things, Falty getting us thinking of tap and Bethany answering questions about motivations and creativity. It was unexpectedly revealing and I felt like I’d stepped back stage to learn tons of secrets that may have taken me a decade or 2 to master.
Sunday night I ended up getting stranded at the airport with no ride home due to bad weather in DC so I drove back to the after party, which turned out to be a wonderful stroke of luck. What an amazing gathering. Locals, all the instructors and some stragglers hanging out at a parent’s house, grilling, socializing, eating, gathering around a piano to play and sing old songs and then curling up outdoors to watch vintage black and white film clips on an old projector before gathering in the kitchen to share more stories about dancing in Asia and other far off corners of the world. A magical evening.
A few hours later I was on a plane back to Virginia, thoroughly convinced I’d return next year and happy that this time I'd have an entire year to prepare. Who knows what I’ll be able to do with all that time? However, Gabrielle Kern's T-shirt from the weekend, "One time I rocked it so hard I killed a man" does pop into mind.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Stompology (or “MTV Made: I want to be a Jazz Dancer”) - part 1
This note is for friends who asked me to summarize my Stompology experience. It was funny seeing their expressions as they found polite ways to disguise the thought, "Bill is my dad's age, only much bigger, so if HE can do it, I'm sure I'd be okay. If Bill survives, maybe I'll go next year." Yup, this is the writings of the "Every Man" dancer entering a fabled land of semi-legend.
Starting at the beginning, last November I watched Sharon Davis and Juan Villafane’s choreography for Fats Waller’s “Scram” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xsYYHvaMIGA
and was instantly inspired to become a better dancer… or more correctly, re-define myself as a dancer and not just a DJ/organizer who dances a few songs during any weekend.
Looking at their travel schedule I knew I had only 2 opportunities to take classes with them in North America this year: Lindy Focus with several hundred people and a level system that hadn’t been kind to me in the past or the more intimate Stompology in Rochester, which annually drew about 80 dancers.
I selected the smaller workshop, knowing it would force me to work hard to not look like a fish out of water. This presented an immediate problem. Stompology bills itself as an “Authentic Solo Jazz Dance workshop weekend”, which several friends politely pointed out wasn’t exactly my thing. This was made more daunting by the fact that the local dance community is tight, extremely dedicated, and has a seemingly high percentage of more advanced dancers… so “Stompo” definitely came with a certain, almost daunting, mystique about it.
In fact, I called a friend in Rochester and flat out asked, “Is it okay if I know practically nothing about jazz steps, just flat out suck and hide in the back corner all weekend?” Michelle Long’s answer was a cheerful, “Absolutely! It's solo movement so you wouldn’t be holding anyone back and we’d love to see you here.” I replied, “No, I’m talking really suck; like, wear a name badge saying, “My name is Comic Relief” bad”; but she assured me this apparently was still not a problem. As a precaution I called a few other people and asked the same thing and they talked me into purchasing a plane ticket and registering before I could back out. I was committed.
Next came the hard part…
Thanks to discussions with Mike the girl and research into nutrition I realized my vegetarian diet had been severely protein deficient for at least a year. This was probably largely responsible for the chronic aches, pains and tendon/joint problems that had me DJ’ing more than dancing. Plus there was my weight. If I was to have any chance of doing jazz movement it meant dropping at least 40 pounds.
Thanks to P90X and the old Stompology magnet on my refrigerator door I lost 42 over the next 3 months. I was a completely new me who felt 20 years younger and had a renewed joy for dancing, especially to a new range of songs 40-60 beats per minute faster than what I was used to. I ordered a copy of Sharon’s Solo Charleston, Jazz & Blues Instructional DVD and started practicing that. http://www.sharondavis.com.au/?page_id=679
I also made the mistake of asking Sharon what I should study before the workshop and received back a daunting doctoral level 2 page study sheet I won’t be able to finish before I die (she later apologized for possibly overwhelming me). But after a month crushed under the dread of over-blown expectations, I finally decided a successful Stompology for me was going to mean deciding I liked myself enough to dare being creative and trying dancing solo; everyone has to start somewhere and that was probably a good place.
So, with the pressure of expectations lifted, I studied and learned the Stompology stompoff. One thing I immediately noticed, by having studied and practiced jazz steps ahead of time I began thinking of the full eight counts of movement as a single idea, not 8 separate steps to remember. This redefined the whole process and opened up all sorts of doors for learning choreography because there was now far less to remember!
Starting at the beginning, last November I watched Sharon Davis and Juan Villafane’s choreography for Fats Waller’s “Scram” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xsYYHvaMIGA
and was instantly inspired to become a better dancer… or more correctly, re-define myself as a dancer and not just a DJ/organizer who dances a few songs during any weekend.
Looking at their travel schedule I knew I had only 2 opportunities to take classes with them in North America this year: Lindy Focus with several hundred people and a level system that hadn’t been kind to me in the past or the more intimate Stompology in Rochester, which annually drew about 80 dancers.
I selected the smaller workshop, knowing it would force me to work hard to not look like a fish out of water. This presented an immediate problem. Stompology bills itself as an “Authentic Solo Jazz Dance workshop weekend”, which several friends politely pointed out wasn’t exactly my thing. This was made more daunting by the fact that the local dance community is tight, extremely dedicated, and has a seemingly high percentage of more advanced dancers… so “Stompo” definitely came with a certain, almost daunting, mystique about it.
In fact, I called a friend in Rochester and flat out asked, “Is it okay if I know practically nothing about jazz steps, just flat out suck and hide in the back corner all weekend?” Michelle Long’s answer was a cheerful, “Absolutely! It's solo movement so you wouldn’t be holding anyone back and we’d love to see you here.” I replied, “No, I’m talking really suck; like, wear a name badge saying, “My name is Comic Relief” bad”; but she assured me this apparently was still not a problem. As a precaution I called a few other people and asked the same thing and they talked me into purchasing a plane ticket and registering before I could back out. I was committed.
Next came the hard part…
Thanks to discussions with Mike the girl and research into nutrition I realized my vegetarian diet had been severely protein deficient for at least a year. This was probably largely responsible for the chronic aches, pains and tendon/joint problems that had me DJ’ing more than dancing. Plus there was my weight. If I was to have any chance of doing jazz movement it meant dropping at least 40 pounds.
Thanks to P90X and the old Stompology magnet on my refrigerator door I lost 42 over the next 3 months. I was a completely new me who felt 20 years younger and had a renewed joy for dancing, especially to a new range of songs 40-60 beats per minute faster than what I was used to. I ordered a copy of Sharon’s Solo Charleston, Jazz & Blues Instructional DVD and started practicing that. http://www.sharondavis.com.au/?page_id=679
I also made the mistake of asking Sharon what I should study before the workshop and received back a daunting doctoral level 2 page study sheet I won’t be able to finish before I die (she later apologized for possibly overwhelming me). But after a month crushed under the dread of over-blown expectations, I finally decided a successful Stompology for me was going to mean deciding I liked myself enough to dare being creative and trying dancing solo; everyone has to start somewhere and that was probably a good place.
So, with the pressure of expectations lifted, I studied and learned the Stompology stompoff. One thing I immediately noticed, by having studied and practiced jazz steps ahead of time I began thinking of the full eight counts of movement as a single idea, not 8 separate steps to remember. This redefined the whole process and opened up all sorts of doors for learning choreography because there was now far less to remember!
Friday, April 2, 2010
Sharon Davis's Suggestions for Fundamental Steps to Study
Hmm, here are the lists of what I teach on my jazz/charleston DVD, and I guess I think of these as being all the fundamentals. If you know all these moves, then you've pretty much got a handle on it:
1920s Charleston Basics
1. The Charleston Basic
2. Arm Styles
3. Moving forwards
4. Moving backwards
5. Stay on one side
6. Tap around
7. Half turn
8. Lock turn
9. Front leg styles
10. Rear leg styles
11. Windmills
12. Chugs
13. Breaks
14. Scarecrow Charleston
15. Round the World Charleston
16. Squat Charleston
17. Jump Charleston
18. Knee Illusions
19. Pushes & Knee Slaps
20. Shoe Shines
21. Blackbottom
Vintage Jazz Dance Basics
1. The Messaround
2. Hip Swings
3. Pecking
4. Swivels
5. Rusty Dusty
6. Grapevine
7. Iceskating
8. Smack the Baby
9. Crazy Legs
10. Slip Slops
11. Run on the Log
12. Boogits
13. Hangman
14. The Rock
15. Hot Potatoes
16. Boogie Drop
17. Fall Off The Log
18. Shim Sham
19. Gloria
20. Apple Jacks
21. Shorty George
22. Camel Walk
23. Suzie Q
24. Tacky Annie
25. Truckin'
26. Boogie Forwards
27. Boogie Back
28. Fishtails
29. Half Breaks
30. Broken Leg
31. Happy Feet
And then all the classic routines to know are: Frankie's Shim Sham Shimmy, the Trankey Doo, the Keep Punchin' Big Apple, the Al Minns & Leon James Shim Sham, maybe Steven Mitchell's Jitterbug Stroll? haha
And watch the first section of the Spirit Moves, plus the Al Minns and Leon James interviews with Marshall Stearns in the 60s.
Then if you want names to look up on YouTube:
Hal Leroy
The Nicholas Brothers
Berry Brothers (particularly Nyas Berry)
Al Morgan
Earl Snakehips Tucker
Bill Bojangles Robinson
Fred Astaire
Gene Kelly
Bill Bailey
Sammy Davis Jnr
Buck & Bubbles
Cab Calloway
The Four Flash Devils
The Clark Brothers
Daniel L Haynes
Rubberneck Holmes
The Three Chefs
Patterson & Jackson
Tip Tap & Toe
The Condos Brothers
Al Minns
Leon James
Cholly Atkins & Honi Coles
The Four Step Brothers
The Three Sparks of Rhythm
Jimmy Slyde
Donald O’Connor
The Wiere Brothers
The Four Hot Shots
Tops & Wilder
Red & Struggs
Stump & Stumpy
Leonard Reed
Hope that helps!
Got all that? lol"
Sharon's wonderful DVD is available by clicking here:
Saturday, March 13, 2010
A field hand's thoughts about the blues when its too wet to plow
Stepping away from my laptop and headphones after almost 4 years, I suddenly feel a lot like Rip Van Winkle being forced to wake up from a long, pleasant dream.
Although my profession was rated as one of the most in demand when I racked up a mountain of student loan debt earning a landscape architecture degree in 2003, today I find LA’s working as cashiers in Trader Joes, collecting unemployment waiting for things to improve, or in my case, bent over in a nursery field alongside Mexican farm hands to be able to buy another tank of heating oil to get Patty and I through to spring. For the first time in my life I fully understand the phrases, “cold as a three dog night” and “ain’t no shame in an honest day’s work.”
One thing about picking and hauling 8 hours a day-- it certainly gives you a lot of time to listen to those around you, redefine hardship, and gain a new perspective on life. Robert Johnson once sang, “I’ve got stones in my pass’way and my road seems dark at night; the pains in my heart have taken my appetite.” If he were around today, I doubt he’d be singing about his Tapas being cold, his Kindle battery being as low as the equity of his stock portfolio or being trapped in the Frequent Flyer’s lounge waiting for his connecting flight to another big blues event.
As Patty, who’s been driving 10 hours back to NY on her weekends off to care for her sick brother recently said, “Nobody under the age of 45 should be allowed to sing the blues.” Of course, she also sends me off to work in the morning saying, “The Lord loves a working man, don't trust whitey”, which is a whole ‘nuther discussion.
Anyway, I’ve come to realize I’ve been blessed over the last few years. When I started DJ’ing 4 years ago I had no idea how people would react to the blues that had been moving me for 15+ years. Nobody was playing anything like it on this coast and it was very different from the 2 dozen “standards” people were posting on their set lists and online discussion boards. Heck, I wasn’t a self-identifying “blues dancer” so I had no idea HOW people would want to move to what I was playing, I only hoped they would. Thankfully, I had the good fortune to be sharing music I loved in a musical vacuum that wanted to be filled.
Over the years, I met a whole slew of wonderful people who welcomed and supported me, which in turn inspired me to most enjoy moments when I could put on my “the Great Facilitator Hat” or be a mentor to others. I’ve greatly enjoyed helping weave the fabric of dance on the east coast and introduce organizers, musicians and DJ’s to each other for a common goal.
Yet, I still have to laugh a little when I hear discussions about “the integrity of the dance” or “being true to the blues aesthetic.” My response has always been, “I’m an old man dancing with a girl young enough to be my daughter, and who weighs half as much as I do-- nobody gives a rat’s ass about my aesthetic. I just try to clearly and respectfully communicate something I hear in the music and listen to what my partner is saying back.
In any case, it appears, due to economic realities, my wonderful luxury of spending countless hours a day searching for music, putting people in touch to help foster new and upcoming organizers, DJ’s and events, is a thing of the past.
So, I will share one final tidbit of advice that I’ve learned since stepping away from my headphones and laptop--
The blues isn't about aesthetics or learning footwork, finding that partner who’ll help you win a competition, flying in someone you don't know to teach a workshop just to get on his radar and maybe invited to his big event, or stealing a DJ gig away from that guy you hate so you’ll be the one amongst the “in crowd”, or even just about labeling yourself a “blues dancer.” That's why there's a "disconnect" between today's contemporary "dancers" and those who worked hard at other things and danced in those rare moments when they could.
The blues is a celebration that after 6 days laboring for another man’s gain and listening to him tell you how fast to move and how high to jump, you can gussy up, ask a woman to dance, and move to music in any way you choose to, just for the pure joy of it.
The blues is about struggling to not give up… and winning.
Although my profession was rated as one of the most in demand when I racked up a mountain of student loan debt earning a landscape architecture degree in 2003, today I find LA’s working as cashiers in Trader Joes, collecting unemployment waiting for things to improve, or in my case, bent over in a nursery field alongside Mexican farm hands to be able to buy another tank of heating oil to get Patty and I through to spring. For the first time in my life I fully understand the phrases, “cold as a three dog night” and “ain’t no shame in an honest day’s work.”
One thing about picking and hauling 8 hours a day-- it certainly gives you a lot of time to listen to those around you, redefine hardship, and gain a new perspective on life. Robert Johnson once sang, “I’ve got stones in my pass’way and my road seems dark at night; the pains in my heart have taken my appetite.” If he were around today, I doubt he’d be singing about his Tapas being cold, his Kindle battery being as low as the equity of his stock portfolio or being trapped in the Frequent Flyer’s lounge waiting for his connecting flight to another big blues event.
As Patty, who’s been driving 10 hours back to NY on her weekends off to care for her sick brother recently said, “Nobody under the age of 45 should be allowed to sing the blues.” Of course, she also sends me off to work in the morning saying, “The Lord loves a working man, don't trust whitey”, which is a whole ‘nuther discussion.
Anyway, I’ve come to realize I’ve been blessed over the last few years. When I started DJ’ing 4 years ago I had no idea how people would react to the blues that had been moving me for 15+ years. Nobody was playing anything like it on this coast and it was very different from the 2 dozen “standards” people were posting on their set lists and online discussion boards. Heck, I wasn’t a self-identifying “blues dancer” so I had no idea HOW people would want to move to what I was playing, I only hoped they would. Thankfully, I had the good fortune to be sharing music I loved in a musical vacuum that wanted to be filled.
Over the years, I met a whole slew of wonderful people who welcomed and supported me, which in turn inspired me to most enjoy moments when I could put on my “the Great Facilitator Hat” or be a mentor to others. I’ve greatly enjoyed helping weave the fabric of dance on the east coast and introduce organizers, musicians and DJ’s to each other for a common goal.
Yet, I still have to laugh a little when I hear discussions about “the integrity of the dance” or “being true to the blues aesthetic.” My response has always been, “I’m an old man dancing with a girl young enough to be my daughter, and who weighs half as much as I do-- nobody gives a rat’s ass about my aesthetic. I just try to clearly and respectfully communicate something I hear in the music and listen to what my partner is saying back.
In any case, it appears, due to economic realities, my wonderful luxury of spending countless hours a day searching for music, putting people in touch to help foster new and upcoming organizers, DJ’s and events, is a thing of the past.
So, I will share one final tidbit of advice that I’ve learned since stepping away from my headphones and laptop--
The blues isn't about aesthetics or learning footwork, finding that partner who’ll help you win a competition, flying in someone you don't know to teach a workshop just to get on his radar and maybe invited to his big event, or stealing a DJ gig away from that guy you hate so you’ll be the one amongst the “in crowd”, or even just about labeling yourself a “blues dancer.” That's why there's a "disconnect" between today's contemporary "dancers" and those who worked hard at other things and danced in those rare moments when they could.
The blues is a celebration that after 6 days laboring for another man’s gain and listening to him tell you how fast to move and how high to jump, you can gussy up, ask a woman to dance, and move to music in any way you choose to, just for the pure joy of it.
The blues is about struggling to not give up… and winning.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
The importance of Names Within the Culture of Dance
One of the most helpful lessons I learned from mentoring was to choose words that communicate descriptively or speak the true names of things.
We’ve all heard people say, “This band or DJ sucks”, but that doesn’t provide any information that an empty dance floor isn’t already revealing. By contrast, when a friend asks, “Can you listen to my set and give me your honest opinion?” you’re forced to rise above easy subjective labels or snap judgments.
I’ve recently read several notes about “dance scene culture” and asking what contribution individuals are making to keep their local scenes vibrant. I was reminded of Chris Crawford once describing the southeastern Virginia dance scene as “not so much a dance scene as, more correctly, a social group, like a fraternity or sorority, where people interact and may dance 3 or 4 times on any night.” At the time, I felt the statement was extremely negative; however, I’ve recently realized it isn’t necessarily judgmental.
Here’s the crux (says the person who embraces being called a music snob): is a weekly dance for 40 people who favor a mix of novelty tunes, hard bop, early rock and roll, straight jazz, contemporary R&B/disco and slow ballads any better or worse than a scene of 40 lindy hoppers? Absolutely not… it’s just a different culture. However, the trouble starts when people incorrectly label this a swing or lindy dance... or when "Willow Weep For Me", slow crooner ballads and west coast standards are called blues just because they're tempo is slower than what is played at lindy dances.
In fact, there would be far less confusion or frustration if organizers were knowledgeable enough to communicate, “Our culture is to play easily accessible, cute music that amuses and makes new dancers feel comfortable, even if it’s not swing. It doesn’t matter if songs are in laid back straight time (as opposed to swing time) that make dancers want to roll their centers of gravity back over the heels with their weight split and just chill. Our goal is to just get bodies in the room and on the floor for a couple songs and we’ll get around to teaching them the mechanics later.”
There’s power in words, in names… and in music. When I was growing up listening to my Beatles records, my dad would yell at me to turn that noise down till the point where I’d hear his Tommy Dorsey in the background and then get a lesson on why Big Band Swing was real music. My dad used to say, “I have to wonder what music you’re going to be listening to when you’re my age; certainly not that crap!”
Dad and I didn’t get along very well for about 15 years until I started DJ’ing swing music and we found a common ground by talking about his favorite artists, with words that meant something to him. We suddenly enjoyed talking about who was playing trombone or when something was recorded and he’d share stories about what was going on at that time that gave the music context. So, at my dad’s age, I’m now listening to his music and when I hear a DJ or band play a Beatles song at a swing dance, I hear his voice calling it crap.
Speaking of words that matter, consider the DJ. When I first started dancing, our local scene used to announce who would be DJing that week, which meant sometimes the dance was packed and sometimes it was sparse because some people were playing for dancers and others were playing music for the social club that Chris Crawford described. Rather than analyzing why some DJ’s made you pack 3 extra shirts and left your worn out at the end of the night, a decision was made to stop announcing the DJ’s so everyone got the same attendance and there were no longer any crowd favorites. Now anyone with a laptop is able to come down and play music they want to share. But again, words are important… there’s a difference between an LO (laptop owner) with a collection of songs and a DJ, who has a skill at shaping the rhythm of a dance and taking dancers on a musical journey. Again, the music snob says, if you’re comfortable with LO’s and you want a mix of easily accessible music that crosses genres, why not just put an iPod on shuffle?
Similarly, just because a local marketing group is promoting a musician “as swing or blues you can dance to for free” doesn’t mean you should necessarily call it a swing dance or a lindy bomb. It’s been said that some people will dance to the rhythm of their windshield wipers on the car; which is the perfect definition of straight time… 1-2-1-2-1-2-1-2. There’s nothing swinging about that, even though you could do swingouts to it. It seems to me that those who call themselves dance instructors have an obligation to teach an understanding of straight time vs. swing time because it’s the easiest thing in the world to look at a dancer’s posture and say he’s moving in straight time and he’s swinging!
That's not to say I'm not in favor of live music; in fact, I'm frequently asked why I'm so vocal about encouraging road trips and supporting professional musicians who play swing music. The truth is, Lady Gaga or Timbaland aren't going to go broke if their music isn't played at one or two swing dances a month. However, getting 4 or 5 friends out to see Solomon Douglas, Glenn Crytzer, the Blue Vipers of Brooklyn or Acme Swing Manufacturing might mean money for a tank of gas that get's them to their next show... and makes them more likely to come back again.
Anyway, that’s how this music snob sees it. Knowing the terminology and names of things are vital to creating a culture that balances the enthusiasm of the new dancer who wants to learn aerials and dance big with the subtlety of the experienced dancer who has a greater appreciation for music that is more traditional and contextually relevant. Both elements are vital for a scene to survive and grow-- but without the ability to speak a shared musical language with the correct words, there’s no way to bridge that gap and you’re left with only, “this music sucks.”
In truth, if you’re going to use incorrect terminology you’re probably better off just calling a dance a kumquat because there’s no frustrating confusion of terms and it’s a darned amusing word all by itself.
We’ve all heard people say, “This band or DJ sucks”, but that doesn’t provide any information that an empty dance floor isn’t already revealing. By contrast, when a friend asks, “Can you listen to my set and give me your honest opinion?” you’re forced to rise above easy subjective labels or snap judgments.
I’ve recently read several notes about “dance scene culture” and asking what contribution individuals are making to keep their local scenes vibrant. I was reminded of Chris Crawford once describing the southeastern Virginia dance scene as “not so much a dance scene as, more correctly, a social group, like a fraternity or sorority, where people interact and may dance 3 or 4 times on any night.” At the time, I felt the statement was extremely negative; however, I’ve recently realized it isn’t necessarily judgmental.
Here’s the crux (says the person who embraces being called a music snob): is a weekly dance for 40 people who favor a mix of novelty tunes, hard bop, early rock and roll, straight jazz, contemporary R&B/disco and slow ballads any better or worse than a scene of 40 lindy hoppers? Absolutely not… it’s just a different culture. However, the trouble starts when people incorrectly label this a swing or lindy dance... or when "Willow Weep For Me", slow crooner ballads and west coast standards are called blues just because they're tempo is slower than what is played at lindy dances.
In fact, there would be far less confusion or frustration if organizers were knowledgeable enough to communicate, “Our culture is to play easily accessible, cute music that amuses and makes new dancers feel comfortable, even if it’s not swing. It doesn’t matter if songs are in laid back straight time (as opposed to swing time) that make dancers want to roll their centers of gravity back over the heels with their weight split and just chill. Our goal is to just get bodies in the room and on the floor for a couple songs and we’ll get around to teaching them the mechanics later.”
There’s power in words, in names… and in music. When I was growing up listening to my Beatles records, my dad would yell at me to turn that noise down till the point where I’d hear his Tommy Dorsey in the background and then get a lesson on why Big Band Swing was real music. My dad used to say, “I have to wonder what music you’re going to be listening to when you’re my age; certainly not that crap!”
Dad and I didn’t get along very well for about 15 years until I started DJ’ing swing music and we found a common ground by talking about his favorite artists, with words that meant something to him. We suddenly enjoyed talking about who was playing trombone or when something was recorded and he’d share stories about what was going on at that time that gave the music context. So, at my dad’s age, I’m now listening to his music and when I hear a DJ or band play a Beatles song at a swing dance, I hear his voice calling it crap.
Speaking of words that matter, consider the DJ. When I first started dancing, our local scene used to announce who would be DJing that week, which meant sometimes the dance was packed and sometimes it was sparse because some people were playing for dancers and others were playing music for the social club that Chris Crawford described. Rather than analyzing why some DJ’s made you pack 3 extra shirts and left your worn out at the end of the night, a decision was made to stop announcing the DJ’s so everyone got the same attendance and there were no longer any crowd favorites. Now anyone with a laptop is able to come down and play music they want to share. But again, words are important… there’s a difference between an LO (laptop owner) with a collection of songs and a DJ, who has a skill at shaping the rhythm of a dance and taking dancers on a musical journey. Again, the music snob says, if you’re comfortable with LO’s and you want a mix of easily accessible music that crosses genres, why not just put an iPod on shuffle?
Similarly, just because a local marketing group is promoting a musician “as swing or blues you can dance to for free” doesn’t mean you should necessarily call it a swing dance or a lindy bomb. It’s been said that some people will dance to the rhythm of their windshield wipers on the car; which is the perfect definition of straight time… 1-2-1-2-1-2-1-2. There’s nothing swinging about that, even though you could do swingouts to it. It seems to me that those who call themselves dance instructors have an obligation to teach an understanding of straight time vs. swing time because it’s the easiest thing in the world to look at a dancer’s posture and say he’s moving in straight time and he’s swinging!
That's not to say I'm not in favor of live music; in fact, I'm frequently asked why I'm so vocal about encouraging road trips and supporting professional musicians who play swing music. The truth is, Lady Gaga or Timbaland aren't going to go broke if their music isn't played at one or two swing dances a month. However, getting 4 or 5 friends out to see Solomon Douglas, Glenn Crytzer, the Blue Vipers of Brooklyn or Acme Swing Manufacturing might mean money for a tank of gas that get's them to their next show... and makes them more likely to come back again.
Anyway, that’s how this music snob sees it. Knowing the terminology and names of things are vital to creating a culture that balances the enthusiasm of the new dancer who wants to learn aerials and dance big with the subtlety of the experienced dancer who has a greater appreciation for music that is more traditional and contextually relevant. Both elements are vital for a scene to survive and grow-- but without the ability to speak a shared musical language with the correct words, there’s no way to bridge that gap and you’re left with only, “this music sucks.”
In truth, if you’re going to use incorrect terminology you’re probably better off just calling a dance a kumquat because there’s no frustrating confusion of terms and it’s a darned amusing word all by itself.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Blues rooms and lighting (or the lack there of)
While DJ’ing the lindy room at a recent exchange mid-Atlantic exchange, a number of follows from the northeast told me, “I like blues as much as the next person, but the blues rooms in the south are so dark I can’t see who I’m dancing with or if there’s anything around me to avoid so I’m staying in the main room where I feel more comfortable.”
It seems to me, the further south you travel down the eastern seaboard the less well-lit blues rooms are. Some of us joke, it must be a Bible Belt thing and people don’t want to be seen dancing to “that devil baby-making music”. Also, strictly blues events are generally more well-lit than lindy blues rooms (with a few consistent exceptions), as are events organized primarily by women.
Not sure about the northeast, but in NYC, Philly and DC you’ve got good visibility and tempo’s vary. Heading south into Virginia (and up until a couple years ago also NC) things suddenly go dark. I remember older events when the 1st thing coming in the door were the black lights and red bandanas, then the case of booze, and finally the sound system.
At ATLX this year blues room DJ’s stunned organizers by saying “the lindy room gets the food, the drinks and enough light to watch everybody else do their cool moves, we’ve got to use flashlights to find our way safely to the DJ table”. Although they replied, “we’ve never heard a blues dancer ask for more light”, the next night, we got better lighting. Get into parts of Florida and blues rooms can seem almost vampiric… any bit of light and dancers will scatter.
Lighting levels also seem directly correlated to expected tempos (and intentions) at lindy late night blues rooms. When I first started DJ’ing one mid-Atlantic state dancer approached me to say, “hey chief, enough with the bouncy-bouncy-- see that follow I’m dancing with? Yeah, smoking… so can you play more, you know… (rolls eyes suggestively and gyrates his groin in my direction).
All this leads me to ask:
Do overly dark rooms start ringing potential comfort level alarm bells in female dancers (it’s a rare lead who will ever complain a room’s too dark)? If so, why do some organizers (usually the boys) and some regions seem less bothered or concerned by that? Have some missed reading the memo or am I completely wrong?
Comments:
Nathan Malone:
"I prefer darker blues rooms. Most dance nighclubs not related to the dance scene tend to be dark, at least in Texas. That is the experience I draw from, darker rooms have a certain atmosphere, there are always brighter rooms that people can hang in.
But, what do I know, never heard a complaint about rooms being too dark, I have heard complaints about the room being too bright.
I am sure there are people in my area who have the opposite view though. Just like people's opinion of what should actually be played in blues room varies, etc..."
Susan Brannigan:
"Too light is annoying, and so is too dark. I like to be able to see who I'm dancing with. More importantly, though, I like to be able to see who I'm talking with, to make eye contact and have a normal conversation when I'm not dancing. On the other hand, after midnight I like a relaxed lighting atmosphere. My eyes are tired late at night, and frankly I probably look too tired to look, er, radiant in "normal" light.
IMHO, blues rooms should not strive to be like nightclubs. If I wanted to dance in a nightclub, I'd go to one. Blues rooms are supposed to be for dancers, not hokey ladies-men and women desperately seeking them. Er, right? :-p"
Bill Speidel:
"Its a tough gradient. There's definitely too bright, what I would call appropriately dim (how's that for nebulous?), and pitch black where the lone light source is the glow of the dj's laptop screen on the far side of the room."
Kyla Anderson:
"This is a great discussion... i like my blues room lit for mood...(lower light but not dark!) i have a ton of blue and white holiday lights on backup in case i need to add light to rooms..i know that sounds cheesy but if placed correctly it works.
I second the vote for enough light to see faces, have conversations, avoid falls and actually maybe just a hair brighter..i have to fight with several dancers about too much light...which is funny since i like it dim already!!"
Bill Speidel:
"I also think lighting can be very room size dependent. The larger the room and greater the # of dancers, the more light I like (maybe so I can see the floor better as a DJ?). Intimate house parties, darker is fine."
Susan Brannigan:
"Agreed, Bill. I think I can trust you to use your common sense. :)"
Jean Gonnella:
"I personally like a blues room dim but not so dark I can't see the person I am dancing with....but also depends on song... b cool if the dj could also have dimmer switches so they could decide on lighting for various playlists..as if the lighiting changed every song that may be annoying but every say 10 songs or sooooo..oh i dunno... love blues dancing n alarm never went off and stopped me from blue dancing cuz of light :) lol"
Mike Legett:
"Honestly, I get a little irritated when I hear people say, "I can't dance blues in here- it's too bright." Unless it's too bright for any dancing (Walmart is what I picture). Mood lighting is great to create an atmosphere, just like a well-decorated venue, but it's certainly not make-or-break for me. I suspect that those people aren't approaching the dance the way I do... there might be some motivational differences, so to speak. Rule of thumb- if my eyes need a moment to adjust before I can see, coming from anything other than sunlight, it's too dark. And people who say that about classes? Prepare for a punch in the face. In my imagination.
I agree, too, about blues rooms at lindy events being darker. They're often, well, sketchier in general. Makes me sad that some lindy hoppers don't like blues, and it's based on the blues at lindy events. At a lindy event, you'll rarely find me in the blues room, and that's part of why."
Claudia Thornburgh:
"Of course, at VBLX the blues room tends to serve a double purpose-- tired dancers go in there to sleep."
Yossef Mendelssohn:
"I get annoyed enough with the dim lighting at lindy dances, since it seems some people think there can't be dancing at all unless the main lights are all turned off and christmas lights strewn around the room.
It seems strange to me that all of this changes when there's an obvious reason to watch dancers, like a competition or performance. Why can't there be enough light to see the entire time?
For me, the groin-gyrating attitude is a) a reason I avoid blues in general, and b) a conversation for another time."
Steve Stone:
"Everyone is going to have a problem with the lighting, it's an impossibility to please everyone. I personally like it dim, so my eyes can have time to rest. Our blues dances in Orlando go from 1am - 4am so I've already been dancing swing for 4 hours and working all day. We start the blues with the lights on until about 3am when someone pulls the plug.
Blues to me is a different expression of dancing focusing more on connection and leading, following rather than moves people know. It seems to me, the darker the room, the more people have to actually follow and lead. Now I do realize that the creeps come out in the dark and as Natch stated, they want to grind, but I think that's an individual choice... I just want to dance, but in Orlando it's either annoying light or just about pitch black. ........ we need a lighting coordinator. Natch! We need your lighting magic."
Kate Larson:
"I prefer blues dancing in dim but not pitch black- and this is my own personal reason. I am a bit ADD (well, I have ADD) and get easily distracted by extraneous visual stimuli. When it is dim, there is less to distract me from the dance, the music, and my connection with my partner. I actually have my best blues dances when I close my eyes, but since I don't like to do that often, it helps me to have dimmer lighting.
Even for swing, whether it be Lindy or WCS I also prefer it more on the dim side, too, though not as dim as for blues.
I do agree that no matter where, it should be bright enough at least to see who is asking you to dance. In the end though the lighting isn't going to stop me from dancing whether bright or dark."
Steph Beck:
"Add me to the crew requesting "dim" rather than "dark." As a follow who simply enjoys dancing, I walk into a blues room with the same objective I have in mind walking into a lindy room: assess the situation, the music, the leaders, who's DJing, and to decide whether I want to dance in that room. While I'm ok with it being dark enough that my eyes need a second to adjust, if it's so dark that even after that time, I can't tell what leads are in the room, or I can't see the DJ, or I can't see anything that's not two feet in front of my face, it's too dark and I won't dance.
Chances are, as some of the previous comments have called out, that the darker the room, the more likely some of the guys are to try something. However, most leads who would make me uncomfortable on the blues floor I've already spotted on the lindy floor doing something weird there, and flagged them in my head. If it's so dark that my brain can't compute to compare notes... yup. Too dark."
Amy Davenport:
"It is indeed impossible to please everyone, which is why I would opt for dim, maybe dimmER than regular dances, but not dark. That way people who like it bright may not consider it perfect but at least they can still see. And those who like it dark may not consider it perfect, but at least there is some moodier atmosphere."
Teresa L. Radke:
"Candlelight level"
Heather Adams:
"I don't like bright light in general, because my eyes are pretty sensitive. That said, despite my vampiric love of the night, I DO want my dancing space lit. I'm with Mike, there's a lot of real estate between "cave" and "Walmart," and it seems we could find somewhere comfortable along that spectrum. I also fail to see why anyone who isn't looking to push the boundaries of what is acceptable at a public social dance would object to having some comfortable light in a room.
Also, I have to say, I am confused why we are mocking people who want to distance themselves from grindy "blues" dancing. I certainly danced blues back when my only option was grindy blues dancing, but I avoid it like the plague now that I have choices. I never went in search of grinding, I just wanted to dance to blues music. Now that I have outlets where I can dance WELL to actual blues music, I certainly don't relish returning to the dancing that made me uncomfortable in the first place."
David Ljung Madison:
"Considering that Mike T. Girl is awesome, I'm surprised I disagree with her.
A well-lit Blues dance doesn't work. Classes are a different matter. Consider the fact that people feel weird doing Blues outside in the daytime, but not Lindy. The feeling is different - Blues is much more about the little bubble that you create with your partner (and no, no gyrating happens in this bubble).
I do agree that you have to be able to *see* - I do remember ATLX being way too dark. Here is what I have learned.
When I started having house parties, I didn't take lighting at all into consideration. All the lights were on. Dima (who is massively responsible for much of the beginning of the Blues scene as we know it) changed my house party by putting in the red light bulbs which are still in sockets in my house ready to be turned on. That created the Blues atmosphere that changed everything.
I have seen events with too much light ruin the "party" feel. For example, the Doghouse (which was a Lindy event, even) finally died because the ambience was wrong. The simple fix they never used was to turn the lights down. Not to dark, but to dimmer. Would've changed everything.
So yes, add me to the list that thinks that lights all the way on or all the way off is a no-go. And I won't even talk about the gyrating, because I think trying to connect that to our dance is a foolish assumption."
Damon Natch Burke:
"I have been corrected on my history of blues dancing in Orlando and thus retract my comment on who grinded what and where.
As a personal opinion of an old man, dancing at 2 am is difficult for me because I'm quite tired, removing the light makes me really sleepy."
Joy Arico:
"My 10 cents...When I dance blues I move around the floor just as much if not more than when I dance lindy. I want to see the other couples on the floor. I do not like when my lead runs me into people. Give them a little more light and that happens less often. For those who want to make a bubble and micro blues all night..let them stand in the middle of the floor. The rest of us will be moving around them.
As for the lighting--When we do dances in a bar, that is full of neon beer signs because we have our parties in "jook joints" the lighting is always dimmed a little. I agree with Susan-- we want to be lit enough, but not so that ppl can really see what I look like at 4 am. The exception is at Playwright with the terrace that opens up to NYC light pollution so we have to turn everything off on 1 end to achieve dim."
David Ljung Madison:
"I did not say bubble to imply micro blues.
I don't think many people who have seen me dance would claim that I don't move around the floor. :)"
Joy Arico:
"Parties in Fancy Ballrooms-- I want it slightly dimmed for ambiance the feeling of candlelight and pretty sconces. Definitely not dark. Dance studio parties depend on the studio...If the studio has bright lights, fluorescent...then they will all be off and we'll bring in lamps.
If it is a dance studio set up for throwing parties as well, with a great sound system and lights on a dimmer.. we just dim them a little and light candles. Again, we want ambiance, not invisibility."
Final note-- you'll notice we do the same in the Lindy rooms at our events as well."
Ben Nathan:
"Personally, I like a room decently lit. If a room can be where I can see my partner clearly and make out their face, that's ideal for me. Granted, I'm not asking it to look like noon, more like dusk where the lighting is comfortable, safe, etc."
Joy Arico:
"Just to throw out the other side of the coin to quote Frankie Manning describing rent parties while quoting Fats Waller..."Turn Out The Lights and Call The Law!"
Dark is the right lighting for our house parties."
Katie Lee:
"I am one of those follows who gets scared off of blues by creepy leads (which is a pity, because I really enjoy non-grinding blues). As this does seem to correlate to lack of lighting...dim-ish, please, not dark!"
Ali Connell:
"My personal rule of thumb is, I want to be able to take a picture (no flash) and at least be able to tell that it's a person in the picture (grainy is fine, can't tell who it is is fine) A room so dark that if you take a picture all you see is black and a few shadows is too dark (and I've definitely seen rooms this dark). Avoiding the fluorescent lights = good. But it's good no matter what the dance or music. However, I've been in blues rooms where I've been looking for friends and been unable to find them despite 5 minutes of searching because the room was so dimly lit. And it definitely seems to me that the constant body rolls and grinding is correlated with the decrease in light.
And I think a house party is a somewhat different matter. It's a private event, different expectations."
Summer Leigh Shapiro:
"I agree with the "dim for ambience but not dark" idea. That would go for pretty much any dance or music style, including lindy. There's a reason nicer restaurants, theaters and music venues aren't harshly lit from overhead. Slightly dim is simply a more pleasant nighttime atmosphere.
This especially relates to dancing in dance studios. Most of them tend to be barren and underdecorated. You have to do something to make them more pleasant and party-like, and ambient lighting is the fastest, easiest and cheapest way to accomplish that.
I don't want it dark, though. I'm a non-grindy blues dancer, and frankly, I think the vampiric mostly-darkness just encourages the type of people I'm looking to avoid dancing with. Give me wall sconces, ropes of Christmas lights, halogen lamps, whatever... but I'd like to be able to see, thanks. :)"
Sarah Beth:
"Not sure about the geographical implications of blues room lighting, but I agree with Summer & the idea that house parties are okay much darker than public dances, and Mike's opinion of Blues at Lindy events (I usually abstain for the same reasons).
I actually had the same experience at VBLX a couple years back, leaving Sol's great dj'ing because the only light in the room was from his laptop. It encourages creepiness, and anonymity, and discourages mixing up partners.
Here in Memphis, we keep it dim to save our eyes, and have some twinkle lights if needed. But again, we dance pretty fast Blues here--and like Steve said, you want it darker cause is 2am--but you still need to be able to see the band, avoid other couples and find your next partner. ;-)
Bill, hope you can come to Memphis in March & see for yourself!!"
Martin Beally:
"1) Tempo and energy of the music should affect how lit the room is.
2) Public events should be brighter than house parties.
3) I should always be able to see people's faces.
Sidebar: We should stop caring and devoting so much energy to saying what's "wrong" with blues dancing, be it grinding or whatever. Lead by showing a positive example and people will follow."
Emi Mastey:
"Dim not dark. Blues room at ATLX at the warehouse place was so dark I had no idea what leads were in there. How do I know if there are great leads or creeps if I can't see them?"
Photo credit: Evrim Icoz Photography
http://www.evrimgallery.com
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