The Dancing Bug

Posts Tagged ‘swing

A few months ago I posed the question: What is Swing Dancing? In that post, I offered my definition. To me, swing dancing only deserves to be called that if it includes rhythmic variety, humor, and improvisation, and is danced to music that swings.

I have since become aware that while most of us can recognize the first three elements pretty objectively, there’s a difference of opinion on that fourth element. Simply put, not everyone defines “swing music” the same way.

For example, the non-profit dance organization I belong to defines swing music according to its chronology: swing music is popular dance music from the 1920s through the 1950s. But I know some people for whom Big Band Swing is the only “real” swing music. For others, only Trad Jazz is authentic swing. Lots of people only enjoy doing swing dancing to rock-n-roll, which for me is no kind of swing music at all. And then there’s the dreaded Neo-Swing.

We throw around that term “swing” a lot, without being completely clear on what we mean. We may  think we can recognize it when we hear it, but can we really define it? Have you ever thought about it?

What defines swing music for you? Is it instrumentation? Does swing music have to include an upright bass, a snare drum played with brushes, a horn section, a washboard, three sisters named Maxene, LaVerne and Patty? Or is it repertoire? Does swing music have to be tin-pan-alley pop songs? Is it instrumentation: Does it have to be a big band, or an acoustic trio? Does it have to be old? What are your requirements for “real” swing music?

Now, because this is my blog, I get to tell you what my definition is. And I trust you, my dear and loyal readers, to find a million exceptions to my rule, but I’m going to post it anyway.

I say that any song where there’s a clear “8, 1” emphasis, and where the triplets are swung, can be considered swing.

What do you say?

Recently someone posted a question to our local Facebook group, asking for people to recall their memories of the old days in the Portland swing community. A huge discussion resulted; I’ll bet a hundred people checked in with their recollections of dancing at their favorite, now-obsolete, venues with their favorite, now no-longer-dancing, dancers.

I had absolutely nothing to contribute to the discussion.

By now it should be clear to followers of this blog that I’m not exactly an old timer in the swing dancing community. I’ve been at it about nine years. That’s pretty much weak sauce to anyone who was around during the swing resurgence in the ’90s. Not to mention those who were dancing in the actual swing era.

I do regret that swing dancing and me took so long to catch up. I guess I was busy having babies or whatever back then, I don’t know. The ’90s were a long time ago. But at least no one can say that I haven’t been trying to make up for lost time!

Anyway, I’m still reading Tamara Stevens’s book, Swing Dancing, and it’s helping me get caught up on what was going on during those years when I was pushing strollers and changing diapers. If anyone else reading this missed the swing revival, here’s what happened, according to Stevens:

  • In Sweden, a predilection for the fast, improvisational folk dance called the Hambo sparked an interest in Lindy Hop, which became known to Swedes as the “American Hambo.” The first Herrang Dance Camp debuted, with 25 registered attendees, in 1982.
  • In 1984 the Pasadena Ballroom Dance Association began sneaking Lindy Hop into its schedule of ballroom-style Swing classes.
  • The New York Swing Dance Society, an organization of die-hard Lindy Hop aficionados, began hosting Monday night dances in 1985; their popularity encouraged Frankie Manning to begin teaching Lindy Hop for the first time.
  • A watershed event occurred in 1986 when dancers from all over the world met at New York’s Cat Club to deconstruct the historic roots of Lindy Hop. Those present included Frankie Manning, Norma Miller, Erin Stevens, Steven Mitchell, Jonathan Bixby, Sylvia Sykes, Ryan Francois and Pepsi Bethel.
  • ABC Television’s 20/20 ran a profile of Frankie Manning in 1989, the year he won the Tony Award for his choreography of the Broadway musical Black and Blue. 1989 was also the year in which the Rhythm Hot Shots first hired Frankie to teach at Herrang.
  • The neo-swing band, Royal Crown Revue, released its “Kings of Gangster Bop” CD in 1991; the word “gangster” prompted most record stores to file the CD in their rap music section! This was the first of many swing revival groups that continued to gain popularity throughout the decade.
  • Spike Lee’s 1992 film Malcolm X, the 1993 movie Swing Kids, and 1994’s The Mask sparked a new interest among teenagers in the fashions, hairstyles, music and dances of the 1930s and 40s.
  • In 1998, a television commercial for the Gap featured four couples in khaki pants Swing dancing to Louis Prima’s recording of “Jump, Jive and Wail.” This commercial is generally considered the spark that ignited the Swing dancing frenzy of the late 1990s.

My personal Swing revival began at the beginning of 2004 when I signed up for Swing dancing classes because of a New Year’s resolution.

When did your Swing revival begin?

Now that I’m somewhat recovered from the weekend, here are a few differences I noticed between DC’s lindy exchange and ours in Portland:

Food: They served a variety of do-it-yourself snacks. Sandwich makings, vegetable and fruit trays, cookies, chips and dips, coffee with the trimmings were all laid out on different tables and people ambled around and assembled their own thing on paper plates. We had hot catered food – burritos or wraps or something – more like a meal. I don’t eat bread, so I actually preferred the flexibility of their snack-type approach. I don’t go to exchanges to eat.

Drop-ins: I didn’t show up in time to see how they did their drop-in lessons. But I did observe that at several times during a dance they would announce that so-and-so was available to give a quick lesson to anyone who didn’t know how. Wonder if you could use that approach to eliminate the drop-ins completely?

Late-night: We had DJ’d music before and after all the bands, so there was no gap between the end of the main dance and the beginning of late-night. Their late-night dance was scheduled an hour after the end of the main dance, and on Saturday it took so long to set up that there was actually an hour and a half between the two dances. That means that between 12:30 and 2 am there was all this time to hang around drinking, eating, being bored, falling asleep, and deciding to give up and go home. I was not a fan.

Bands: I would just like to observe that they must have spent a million dollars on music. No band appeared at more than one dance, and all their bands had lots and lots of members. The music was great, but sheesh. I thought WE spent a lot.

Flyer table: There wasn’t one. At one venue I saw a little stack of flyers for some out-of-town exchange, so I put my flyers there. The next night they were all gone, like someone had thrown them away. Grr.

Registration packets: Not just the obligatory information papers and pack of gum stuffed in a manila envelope. There were buttons, a water bottle, and other goodies in an actual fabric shoe bag. Pretty nifty. Again, I think their budget must be roughly twice what ours is.

Outdoor dances: They had an outdoor dance on both Saturday and Sunday, at different venues, which is cool. They also had an in-case-of-rain backup plan. They announced several times on Friday and Saturday nights not only what the outdoor venue was, but where the dance would be if it rained, and where to tune for news and official information. They announced over Facebook, Twitter and on their own website by ten a.m. whether or not the dance would be moved. I thought this was very well done. We always have our outdoor dance on Saturday, rain or shine – some years it’s been snowing or hailing and we’re still out there dancing. Cool or insane, I’m not quite sure.

Anyway, that’s just some thoughts. If anyone wants to comment and tell me their favorite and un-favorite things about exchanges, I’d love to hear about them!

I can’t even think straight today. Just flew all night from Portland, Oregon to Washington DC. A murderous trip with two layovers, but I made it! Gonna hang out with my sister and go to the DC Lindy Exchange this weekend! Yayy!!

Now, I gotta stay cool about this. Last few exchanges I went to, I got overexcited, danced every dance the first couple of hours, got totally exhausted, and then had to leave by two a.m. Weak! This time I swear I’m gonna pace myself. I’ll sit out a few early on, and maybe I’ll manage to be one of the last bleary people stumbling home at five a.m. That’s my goal.

My other goal is this: I swear I’m gonna dance with every last lead there. Every single one of them, without fail.

But not all on the first night!

Been reading Tamara Stevens’s book and learned some fun stuff about Dean Collins.

For those who are out of the loop, Collins (1917-1984) is credited by many as the man who brought Lindy Hop, which originated in New York, to the West Coast in the late thirties. He is associated with the so-called “Smooth” or “Hollywood-Style” of Lindy, and was a genuine Founding Father of swing dancing.

Anyway, apparently his original, career-dampening name was Solomon Rudowsky. He exchanged this awkward moniker for a more streamlined one after finding a lost wallet belonging to a man named Dean Collins.

It seems to have helped.

He got his first big break as a dance icon when he interviewed for an $11-a-day job as a dancing extra in the 1940 RKO picture Let’s Make Music. Imagine his surprise when instead he was offered the $100-a-day job as choreographer for that project!

From there, he went on to appear in dozens of motion pictures. His dance partner was, of course, the fabulous Jewel McGowan. Did you know they were dance partners for eleven years? I didn’t know that!

Then I found out something else. This totally killed me. You know Jerry Lewis, the comedian? He was not only a comic genius, but a brilliant eccentric dancer. He used every molecule of his body for comedy; his wrists were funny, his pinkies were funny, his ankles were hilarious. Anyway, he made a movie in 1958 called Living It Up.

In the movie, there’s a swing dance sequence that’s always been one of my favorite old dance clips, just because of how anachronistic it is. The movie was made in the late 1950s, when practically nobody was swing dancing anymore, yet if you watch the dancers in the background, here are all these extras doing real, actual swingouts like it was 1938 again. It’s stunning.

So guess what? Turns out Dean Collins and Jerry Lewis were good friends, and Collins provided the dancers for that sequence. Isn’t that cool?

Well anyway, that’s what’s on my mind today. Tonight I’m hopping on a plane bound for the DC Lindy Exchange. See you tomorrow, when I’ll be reporting live from Loudoun County!

Mindy Hazeltine, owner of Stumptown Dance, has what some people might consider the perfect job. She’d be the first to agree.

Mindy is the owner of Stumptown Dance, Portland’s largest weekly swing dance. She spends her life organizing dances, DJing, and teaching people to dance. “What do you call yourself?” I asked her. “That’s a good question!” she said. “There’s no title for this. They never know what to call me on my taxes. My insurance guy calls me a ‘dance school.”’ She laughed. “That’s the best he could come up with!”

The other night when I was talking with her, I just had to ask: so is there anything bad about your job? “The problem with it is that my hobby is my job,” she said. “I can’t just go dancing for fun, without feeling like I have to be there for some business reason. Going out dancing socially can sometimes feel like work. I always feel like I have to act a certain way or be a certain way.”

Bummer.

Yet anyone who knows Mindy can see that she is perfect for the job. She has a glow about her that comes from the sheer enjoyment of dancing, and she’s one of these people who instantly remembers the name of everyone she dances with. It is safe to say that she’s good friends with almost every dancer in the swing community. Of course she loves what she does.

So what’s the best thing about your job? “Every aspect of it is enjoyable in some way,” she immediately answered. “It’s flexible. I get to dance and do something fun for a living.” She paused for a second, thinking. “I guess the best part of it,” she said finally, “is just that I get to do it!”

Sounds good to me!

Ugh, I’m exhausted. Was out dancing all day and night yesterday. Can’t think of a thing to write about.

So here. This is a very nicely-constructed website about the Boswell Sisters. Every swing dancer should know about the Boswell Sisters. Read, listen, assimilate. I’ll be back tomorrow with more stuff.

I remember the first time I decided I hated swing dancing.

It came as such a shock. For the first couple of years, we’d been starry-eyed in love with each other, through good times and bad. I’d dealt with blisters and tired feet, shortness of breath, getting sweated on and having my arms yanked out of their sockets, and practically putting myself in the osteopath’s office trying to learn the Shorty George. We’d come through it all unscathed, our romance stronger than ever. Dancing was the love of my life, and I just knew we were going to grow old together.

Then we had our first fight.

I remember when and where, I just don’t remember why. It was at the Wonder Ballroom, summer of 2007. I was standing there at the edge of the dance floor, and somehow I suddenly knew I had to quit dancing. Divorce was the only way. It was sad and exhilarating at the same time. I was going to get out of dancing and get back to a normal life.

I walked out of that dance while there were still two hours left, and I went home determined never to go back.

Of course I went back.

I don’t know what causes these bad dancing nights. Sometimes it’s the music. Often it’s my shoes. And occasionally I think it’s just physical exhaustion.

One thing that sometimes ruins me for dancing is taking private lessons. Now, I don’t fork over those big bucks for lessons just so someone can tell me what a great dancer I am. I want criticism. I want the bad things pointed out so I can fix them. Nevertheless, it plays merry hell with the self-esteem. If I start thinking too much about every little thing I’m doing wrong, it’s guaranteed I’ll have a rotten night.

But then I’ll dance with a partner who makes everything all better again. One dance with a dreamboat and I’m right back on track. So dreamboats everywhere, I appreciate you more than I can say. You’ve strengthened my love for dancing and gotten me through the rough times. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Today I really do know that dancing and I are going to grow old together, good nights and bad nights, for better or worse. Dancing is the love of my life, and our love has been tested in the fire.

Okay, last week when we went out dancing, whenever we had a free arm we were focusing on that free hand to make sure it was expressing something. How did this go for you?

I found it difficult to remember. If I thought about it, it was so simple to just do something cute, but most of the time I forgot. I guess I’ll have to keep working on this. My sister does Salsa dancing, and she says that in that community they even practice finger styling – pretty sure I’ve never thought about my fingers at all in Swing dancing unless someone was crushing them with his ultra-tense grip. So I’ve got another thing to work on now!

The challenge this week has to do with music. I want you all to listen to the music the DJ is playing, and when you hear something you like that you’ve never heard before, I want you to go up and ask the DJ what it was. Then I want you to go out and find more music by that person. See if you can come up with a new favorite this week!

To continue my wheeze about rhythm…

Some dancers feel like they have no rhythm when it’s really just the structure of the music that they’re not hearing. This accounts for that well-known phenomenon whereby a lead misses a “break” in the music. He either hears it just a little bit too late to do anything about it, or doesn’t hear it at all and only knows of its existence by the grumpy look on his partner’s face.

I think most people can hear these so-called breaks after the fact, it’s anticipating them that can seem like such a mystical skill. Don’t worry. If you can’t anticipate the breaks, it’s just because you haven’t noticed the underlying structure of the music.

As I’ve said elsewhere, I believe a lot of people get confused about the structure of swing music because of that awful six-count basic we always teach beginners. A six-count basic ignores the structure of the music, so if you have trouble anticipating the breaks, that very well might be the reason. I encourage you to explore the various eight-count basic steps (Lindy, Charleston, Balboa, etc.) and avoid East Coast Swing and Shag until you are able to internalize musical structure a little better.

Most swing music, maybe 90% of it, has a very specific and predictable structure. Let’s call it an “AAAB” structure. Each of those letters represents one eight-beat phrase of the music. “T’aint whatcha do, it’s the way that you do it” is one eight-beat musical phrase. If you recall, the singer sings that line three times. That’s “AAA.” Then he sings, “That’s what gets results,” and that’s the “B.” Taken all together, that verse is an example of AAAB structure. Get it? Most songs continue repeating that same basic pattern, over and over, until the end.

The secret to all this is realizing that what people call a “break” is really just that “B” part of the music.

If you make your dancing match that structure, it will feel a lot more musical to you. A simple way to accomplish this is to lead three eight-count basic steps on the “A” phrases, and then lead eight beats of something else for the “B.” You can do some kind of turn, or a silly jazz step, or even just pause or (gently) dip your follow for those eight beats. Don’t worry that you’re leading too many basics; if you just save the fancy stuff for the end of each verse, your partner will be extremely happy with you.

Keeping this structure in mind will also help your solo dancing. You can repeat the pattern of three Charleston basics and then an eight-count jazz step, and right away your dancing will feel a dozen times more musical to you.

If you start listening for AAAB structure you’ll immediately notice that there are many variations on the theme. A lot of verses are AABC, or ABAC, or AABB. It would be very good for your ears if you practiced hearing all these structures, but you don’t have to. The main thing to remember is that the last eight-beat phrase of the verse needs something different than the first three. “Three of something, and then one of something different” will work almost every time.

I’ll talk about a major exception to this rule in my post on Saturday, so check back with me!


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