The Dancing Bug

Posts Tagged ‘swing

So yesterday I started this thing about dancers who don’t think they’re “musical.” I was saying how everyone actually does have the same sense of rhythm whether they know it or not, but that some people seem to have developed an unfounded lack of confidence in this area.

Okay, here’s one reason that some people might come to feel that they aren’t musical or don’t have rhythm: It’s this whole business of clapping on 2.

You know what I’m talking about. You’re at a dance, and they start doing a birthday jam. Everyone is clapping to the beat. But wait! They’re clapping to a different beat than you are! And maybe someone even instructs the crowd to “clap on 2 and 4.” What? It makes no sense to you, yet everyone seems to be in on it. And then you jump to the conclusion that you’ve got no sense of rhythm.

Stop right there. If you naturally find yourself clapping on 1, then rejoice and be glad. Good news: it’s proof that you do indeed have rhythm. Being able to clap in time to music is a sign that you have as much rhythm as anybody else does. What you’re doing is clapping on the downbeat of the music, and this is perfectly natural. We all grow up doing this all the time. There’s nothing wrong with it.

Many of us didn’t grow up listening to jazz music. I personally was raised in the tension between a mom who favored Chopin and a father who was devoted to John Denver. If you grew up listening to the Carpenters or Pink Floyd or the Mantovanni Strings Orchestra, don’t despair. It isn’t a lifetime curse, and you aren’t irreparably damaged, musicality-wise. It’s just that all these kinds of music emphasize the downbeat.

Swing music is related to other kinds of western-based musical styles, and it has the same underlying rhythm as ragtime, or rock-n-roll, or reggae, or polka music. It’s just a pattern of downbeats and upbeats. But there’s a difference. Instead of emphasizing the downbeat the way country, rock, and a lot of other things do, swing music emphasizes the upbeats. That’s what we’re doing when we clap on 2 – emphasizing the upbeats.

We clap on 2, not because of anything structural in the music, but in order to contribute a certain swingy feeling. Clapping on the upbeats gives the music a sense of forward propulsion – we’re anticipating the next beat, getting there a little bit ahead of time. On the other hand, clapping on 2 can also give the music a lazy feeling of lagging behind that we also find exciting. But these upbeats aren’t really part of the structure of the music, so don’t let it freak you out. If you find yourself instinctively clapping on 1, you aren’t wrong; the 1 is definitely there, and it’s definitely important. It’s just that it is so very definitely there that it doesn’t need to be emphasized. In our heads, all of us are always listening for that 1.

If clapping on 2 gives you the heebie-jeebies, then I suggest you sit down with some swing recordings and clap on 1. Clap on all the 1s you can find. Don’t count, just clap along where it feels natural. Celebrate the fact that you have perfect rhythm. Because you’ll never be able to feel that 2 unless you can clap on 1 first.

Not your problem? Okay, I’ll try something else tomorrow.

Okay, I’m going to come out and confess today what most people who’ve tried to lead me already know: sometimes I don’t listen so good.

I do have a lame excuse for this. You see, I grew up in an era when any contact between dance partners was purely visual only. I was dancing on my own a long time before the idea of being “led” ever entered my mind.

But that isn’t entirely it. After all, to me practically the best part of dancing is the physical communication between two dance partners moving as one. I love that gooshy, smooshy sensation when I’m dancing with a partner who makes me feel like I’m dancing on a giant bubble gum bubble. So I’m not unleadable. In fact, I work hard to try and be as leadable as possible. The last thing I want to do is get into a power struggle with my dance partner.

But, the thing is…

I didn’t pay my six bucks just to spend the evening getting ordered around.

Dancing is a conversation, and I have some things I want to say too. Ever get stuck in a conversation with someone who just keeps talking and talking and won’t stop? That’s what it’s like for me when a lead does move after move after move. When a lead keeps me running all over the place so that I can’t even think or hear the music, I understand that he’s probably trying to make sure I have a fun dance, but honestly? It’s like he won’t shut up. It would be nice to get my two cents’ worth in there sometime.

On the other hand, every once in a while I’ll run into a lead who has seen me doing some crazy solo stuff or whatever, and gets the idea I’m a “good” dancer. He’ll ask me to dance and then just sort of stand there holding my hand and watching me to see what cool moves I’m gonna bust out. Sorry, thanks for the compliment, but ugh. Creepy. That’s like having a conversation with someone who just sits there looking at you and letting you talk on and on until you stick your foot in your mouth. Like a job interview.

The best conversations are the ones where people interrupt each other because they’re so interested in the topic. To me, the best dances are like that too.

So I’ll make a deal with you. If you can remember to ease up a little, give me a little space, don’t just lead move after move without letting me get a word in edgewise, then I promise to do my best to be as easily leadable as I know how to be the rest of the time. Don’t get freaked out if I do something a little different than you planned. Take it as a compliment – it means I don’t consider you my boss, but my friend.

Here’s what I spent all morning working on when I should’ve been cleaning house:

Put on your favorite swingable CD or playlist. Bust out your normal old lindy hop footwork, but on 1,2 substitute a 360 pivot turn. On the 1,2 of the first eight counts, turn to the right, and on the 1,2 of the second eight counts, turn to the left. Do that for one whole song.

On the next song, do the same thing, but on 2,3. Alternate 360 turns to the right and to the left.

On the next song, do a triple-step turn on 3&4, alternating right and left as before. Continue in the pattern, substituting turns for 5,6 on the next song, for 6, 7 on the next, for 7&8 on the next, and finally, for 8,1 on the last song. Eight songs equal an amazing turning workout!

The main thing to watch out for is to not ever let your feet go pigeon-toed. You have to be able to do all these turns with your feet and knees in a slight turnout. Keep your knees aligned over your toes, and make sure your shoes and floor are slippery enough.

Now, for extra credit and ultimate nerdy awesomeness, do the whole thing again and this time, use opposite-role footwork. Yay!!

Did anyone try my challenge from last week? I asked you all to thank everyone you danced with by name.

I did this. Turned out it helped me remember to actually introduce myself when dancing with someone new. As opposed to just grabbing them like they were a video game controller or something. Always good to keep in mind these are people we’re dancing with! I just couldn’t bring myself to do it with people I know, though. Sounded too weird and formal. What did you all think?

This week’s challenge: We all know we’re not supposed to let our free arm just hang there like a wet towel, but what to do? Try this – whenever you have a free arm, think about what your hand is doing. Try to make it express something. We’ll check in about it next Friday!

It’s not even Friday yet, but it’s been a long week, I’m grumpy, so I’m going to talk about a peeve. Actually I’m going to rant.

I can’t stand that we teach beginners a six-count basic.

You know, I can always tell when a beginner I’m dancing with is a musician. The six-count thing totally messes with his mind. It doesn’t match with the music that’s DJed, and it drives him crazy and makes him think he’s a bad dancer. Then we have a lot of leads going around saying how they wish their dancing was more “musical,” and it isn’t even their fault. Sad!

It would be different if we danced to a lot of ‘Fifties music. A six-count basic seems to not be so offensive when it’s danced to Rock ‘n’ Roll. I’m not sure why that is.*

But it’s ridiculous to teach a six-count basic to beginners and then expect them to somehow make that work with Charleston music. I think the only people that really does work for are the ones who aren’t listening to the music anyway.

Why does the dance community think this is an “easier” version of swing dancing?

The justification I hear most often is that beginners just want to learn a lot of flashy moves and don’t care about whether the dance fits the music or not. That may be true, but should we be encouraging this sort of thinking? Can’t we teach them “moves” in the context of eight-count footwork instead?

I actually think the only reason we stick with this so-called East Coast Swing is habit. We all learned that way, and then had to find out for ourselves that there was this other thing called “Lindy Hop” that was supposed to be the Holy Grail of Swing dancing. If a six-count basic and the Pretzel were good enough for us, then dammit, they’re good enough for the next generation. Let them suffer like we suffered, right?

For the few instructors out there who teach an eight-count basic in your drop-ins, thank you.

For beginners who only know six-count moves and want to make your dancing more “musical,” here’s what you do:

Most Swing songs are constructed in groups of four eight-count phrases. At the beginning of the verse, start out doing whatever six-count things you want. Do four of them. Then do something else for eight beats. That will make your dancing line up with the end of that section of music, most of the time.

The something you do for eight beats can be really simple. A messaround, or just step in place, or do some crazy footwork thing if you must. Look around the room for some ideas.

Making your dancing come out right at the “break” will make all the difference in the world to your follow, and she’ll be so happy she won’t even notice you didn’t do the Pretzel.

*Actually, I do know why that is. East Coast Swing works better with ‘Fifties music because of song structure. Songs that aren’t made up of four groups of eight-count phrases are made up of six groups of eight-count phrases (like 12-bar blues structure). That was a lot more prevalent in ‘Fifties music than in the dance music of the ‘Twenties through ‘Forties. If you’re dancing to a song that’s contructed this way, you can do the whole thing in six-count moves. Just be aware that you’ll have to do six-count basics and moves a total of eight times to make it line up at the end of the verse.

Whenever I tell non-dancers about my dancing fixation, I get the same response as when I tell people I like brussels sprouts. “Well,” they say doubtfully, “I guess it’s good for your health.”

Whatever.

If dancing were horrible for your health I would still do it. I can’t help myself. I’d be a helpless dancing addict sleeping in a doorway. My friends would have an intervention for me and I’d be dragged off to the dancing detox where they make you sit around every evening watching television. I’d probably run away.

But as much as I hate to admit it, I think dancing actually IS good for your health. Yeah, exercise, blah blah. But I mean I think it helps your immunity.

I used to get colds all the time. Every year I’d have one really bad cold that lasted forever. Plus about every other year I’d get something like an ear infection or bronchitis. You know what? Since I started dancing in 2004, I’ve had maybe two little colds that lasted about four days apiece, and that’s it.

Obviously, I’m not a scientist, thank God. But my theory is that dancing toughens up your immunity. Think about what you do when you go dancing: In the middle of the night you leave your nice cozy home to go out in the (usually, here in Oregon) freezing cold and damp weather, to go to some public place where you put yourself into close personal contact with a lot of germy people you never even met before. You run and jump around for about three or four hours, getting all hot and perspiry, and then go out in the cold again. You may or may not stop off for some beer and greasy food before going home and to bed about three hours before you have to get up again and go to work. How could that not be great for your health?

Here are a couple of articles. This is an article that says kids who are exposed to a lot of germs have better immune systems. If it’s good for kids, surely it’s good for grownups, right?

This article says that endorphins, which you get from dancing, are good for immunity. See item #1 but kindly ignore #3.

And item #2 says vegetables are good for you too. So eat your brussels sprouts.

I posted last week about how everyone needs to dance with newbies. But there’s a flip side to that. This week, I want to talk about dancing with rock stars. You know, those dancers who are so good they’re scary?

First of all, this is a pretty subjective thing. The guy with all the crazy moves who’s throwing girls all over the place – he might look like a rock star to someone who’s just starting out. So take my advice here with a little caution. “Good” is a bit of a moving target.

But in general, we all need to get brave and dance with partners who are better dancers than we are. Follows, you need to learn what it feels like to be led without being ordered around, to find yourself doing moves no one ever showed you before, just because they’re being led properly. Leads, you need the experience of leading someone who not only follows you, but makes what you led turn out cooler than you thought it would.

But it’s so difficult to ask these people to dance! They can be nervewracking, especially if they’re an instructor, and even more especially if they’re YOUR instructor. You can’t help feeling like you’re going to be graded on your efforts. The terror of it can make you forget everything you ever knew about dancing, and you end up feeling like a hippo who’s recovering from a knee replacement.

Another thing: some of the better dancers seem like they’re always performing, never just dancing. So if you dance with them, suddenly you feel like everyone is watching you. That can be terrifying, and a sure route to hippo-dom.

And then, of course, sometimes you’ll ask someone to dance who LOOKS like a great dancer, only to find out that they’re rough or really bouncy or heavy in a way you didn’t expect.

So here’s my theory: we should dance with beginners as if they were experts, and dance with experts as if they were beginners.

Just think about it:

When we dance with experts, we usually pay very close attention to them, we try to dance as well as we possibly can, and we assume that anything that went wrong was our fault. This is exactly how we should dance with beginners.

When we dance with newbies, we usually assume the dance will be a little strange, we don’t focus too much on technical things, and we just try to be friendly and have fun. This is exactly how we should dance with rock stars.

I don’t know, it’s just a theory. What do you think?

Here’s a weird topic that might be of interest to other dancers. You know, as much as I love dancing, and no one loves it more than I do, there is this one little downside. I basically hate the effect dancing has on my sleep schedule. I’m sure a lot of dancers with “real jobs” can identify with this.

I never get home from a dance until at least midnight, if not three or four in the morning. And then when I get home, I can never just fall straight into bed and sleep; I’m too wired and I usually have to putter around for about an hour to unwind. So on dancing nights I’m getting to bed at anywhere from one to five a.m.

But I’m also one of those people who finds it impossible to sleep in. Even without an alarm clock, even with all the shades drawn and the house quiet, I just cannot sleep past about eight a.m. at the very latest. And sleeping in that late makes me feel like a slacker and more or less ruins my day anyway.

Lately, I’ve also gotten into this deal where even on the nights I don’t go out dancing, my sleep is messed up. Either I make myself get into bed early, and then lay there not sleeping – probably wishing I was out dancing – or I fall asleep straight away but wake up at 3 a.m. and can’t get back to sleep again. Then I just lay there worrying that I’m going to turn psychotic from sleep deprivation, and that if I do turn psychotic, people won’t want to dance with me anymore.

But recently I’ve been reading about something called biphasic sleep. Basically, it’s where your eight hours of sleep are divided into two four-hour chunks that are just as healthy. In one version, which you can read about here, you go to sleep at a normal time, wake up naturally in the middle of the night, stay up for an hour or so, and then go back to sleep until morning. Apparently that’s a very traditional way of sleeping – who knew?

The other way is described here, and in this version, you do part of your sleeping in the daytime and part of it at night, and according to some people, it’s still all good. If this is true, I could theoretically take a nice long nap on the days when I’m going out dancing that night, then sleep from, say, only two to seven a.m., and manage not to turn psychotic!

Anyway, I think the approach I’m going to try is a) I’m going to not stress out about it and b) I’m going to do as much napping as I can. And if anyone has advice for me about how to make dancing fit in with a normal schedule, I’d love to hear it!

Every once in a while someone will come up to me on the dance floor and say something like, “I just love your footwork!” or “How do you do that crazy footwork?” It always startles me because I don’t really think about my feet when I’m dancing. Usually, I’m obsessing about relaxing my arm, having good posture, or remembering to breathe. Of course, after they say that, then all I can think about is my feet, and the next few dances end up being a little strange.

But if anyone is interested in this particular aspect of their dancing, here is something to try. I do this at home as sort of a brain teaser for myself, and I think it’s just generally a good way to work on coordination and moving around.

What you do is take some sort of jazz step – say, shorty george, a half-break, or some apple jacks – and stick four beats of that within a normal eight-count lindy pattern. This is fairly simple to do if you add it in on 5-8; the jazz step just takes the place of the last step-step-triple step.

Also pretty simple to do on 1-4. The only trick is figuring out how to get back on the appropriate foot for the next beat. You’ll also find that you may need to practice doing the jazz step on the opposite side from the way you normally do it, which is a really good thing to practice anyway.

It gets trickier if you try to add it in on 3, and a lot trickier if you add it on 2 or 4. And if you add it on 6, 7, or 8, it overlaps onto the beginning of the next eight counts, and that can really mess with your mind.

Finally, do the whole thing again, only switch your footwork, lead/follow wise. That means you’re going to do the whole thing again on the other side.

Most of this stuff will turn out to be just for practice, nothing you’d really be able to use on the social floor. But it certainly can’t hurt your dancing, and it’s something to do while you’re on hold or waiting for the microwave to ding. Plus, this sort of thing is what really bumps you up to true dance-nerd status!

Came across this massive essay on the Swungover website. It’s about the supposed difference between “Savoy” and “Hollywood” -style Lindy Hop. If you have any time off from dancing this weekend, I’d suggest poring over it. It’s packed with nerdy goodness; you’ll need at least a couple of hours to get through the whole thing, but even just dipping in and watching a few of the clips will surely give you something to think about.

 


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