Year: 2011

Comp Diary: Dancemobile Goes to Gumbo 2011

Post author By lauraet
Post date May 8, 2011
No Comments on Comp Diary: Dancemobile Goes to Gumbo 2011

Gentle readers, this past Thursday was a milestone in my life: I bought a new car. First brand-new car ever for me; first new-to-me car since 2001 when I bought a 1997 Nissan Altima. We still have the Altima; it’s in front of the house, basking in all the glory of the 183,000 miles on its odometer. Although I planned to take it to 200,000 miles before replacing it, certain ominous rattles were getting more ominous and I did not want the New Car Fund I was building to become the Fix the Old Car Emergency Fund. So I started looking last weekend and bought a 2011 Kia Forté Koup.

A small part of my calculus was the knowledge that we were going to the Gumbo Dancesport Championships in Baton Rouge in June. When we went last year, we flew. That worked out fine, but it was expensive and promised to be expensive again this year. We started to think that if I had picked out my new car by then, we could drive it. While car-shopping, we checked every candidate to make sure it would carry a large suitcase in the trunk (sorry, Beetle convertible) and a couple of hanging bags in the back seat (nice knowin’ ya, Mini Cooper). I did some math and figured out that at 25 mpg (a very conservative estimate) and $4 per gallon, we would still come out WAY ahead relative to the cost of 2 plane tickets.

On Friday I entered us for the competition: this year we are doing Silver Smooth & Rhythm (Adult and Senior I), Open American 6-Dance, and Open Paso Doble (provided we can learn a routine in the next 6 weeks). I also entered us for Open Cabaret but I need to ask Eddie if our rumba routine is credible as a cabaret number. My new comp mantra is “If worse comes to worst, we can always scratch.”

We will leave as soon as I get off work the Thursday before the competition starts, share the driving (9-10 hours), and probably listen to every station on my Sirius trial subscription as we cross the various radio wastelands between here and there. Then we’ll drive back on Sunday. As I said to my mom on the phone the night I bought the car, “We might hate it, and we might never do it again, but we’re going to drive this time and see how it goes.” And Jamie contributed “Dancemobile” as the car’s new moniker. Whee! What do you think: do I need a vanity plate? DANCMBL? Or maybe just DLDNCRS?

See the U-S-A / In your Kia Forté! Hey, that totally works! No offense, Chevrolet, but I’m going to have to rewrite the entire song.

Represent, Represent!

Our class is learning the cha-cha–and also learning how hard it can be to do the steps accurately AND up to tempo. (If they’re anything like me, it’s usually one or the other…) Last night I downloaded my favorite slow/practice cha-cha song. Click and enjoy!

In other news, it became known in class last night that I have never seen Saturday Night Fever. How egregious is this omission for someone who will watch practically any movie with dancing in it*? I’ve also never seen Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights (whence “Represent Cuba”), but that seems less embarrassing somehow. I have seen Take the Lead, Mad Hot Ballroom, Shall We Dance (both versions), Scent of a Woman, Strictly Ballroom, and numerous ballet movies, good, bad, and indifferent.

Dance-movie suggestions and cult-favorite song choices welcomed in comments.

*Exception: Black Swan, which I am still debating about.

Ballerina Corner

Fish, ponds, totem poles

Had an interesting conversation with a ballet classmate’s mother last week. She mentioned that she wants her daughter to stay in her current level for another year rather than moving up to the next class.* Meanwhile, I am supposed to move into Ballet Tech, which is nearly the most advanced class in the studio. I will be in over my head in that class whereas the young lady might have an advantage in her class, having been through it before. It made me wonder which position is preferable. The class I was in this year has been “too easy” for me in a cognitive/intellectual sense. I learned the difference between effacé and croisé 30 years ago and never forgot it; even things like conventional patterns of steps (e.g., doing barre exercises en croix) have stuck with me so I found the choreography in that class really manageable. The physical exertion, however, was challenging at times and I know it helped me a lot to build strength & flexibility–especially for pointe work, which is a big part of the reason I chose the class in the first place. Next year I’ll be at the bottom of the totem pole in every sense, being asked to do things that may be beyond my capacity both mentally and physically.

I’d rather be over-challenged than under-challenged but I know it will be a…er…challenge [cripes, who’s editing this stuff?] to be in that higher-level class. Everyone says You Shouldn’t Compare Yourself to Other Dancers but the reason everyone has to keep saying it is that everyone keeps doing it! Being in class with 9- to 13-year-olds afforded me a break from Comparison Disorder because measuring myself against girls practically four times younger was genuinely pointless. I can sit here and tell myself that measuring myself against girls 20-25 years younger is equally pointless, but the part of my brain (hint: most of it) that still thinks I’m 17 will not buy it. Plus, the comparisons are useful if they make me push myself a little harder.

Right?

It’s ego-building to be a big fish in a small pond but ultimately it wouldn’t improve my dancing, so I am pleased (to say nothing of terrified) to be moving up next year. It will require me to keep a slightly closer eye on my sanity. And to work on my splits. And to get a grip on pirouettes. But that’s all to the good.

Right?

*Props to that mom, en passant, for taking a constructive look at her daughter’s development instead of going the cliché Ballet Mother route and insisting on her advancing no matter what.

short takes

Short Take #3

Skimming the Gumbo Dancesport Championships registration information, I came across the following warning about the importance of being on deck in a timely manner:

“THE COMPETITION WILL NOT BE DELAYED.”

Eep! Okay, Gumbo, we get it. No need to get all caps-locky. We will be on deck 2 heats in advance, we promise!

Ballerina Corner

Invisible Knees

[Point of order: Paula East has asked me to mention her class schedule; you can find it on our “Sponsorship and Dance Instruction” page. Classes are now in progress for beginner/intermediate dancers (Sundays) and advanced dancers (Tuesdays) at the Wellness Center.]

Progress in ballet sometimes seems so glacially slow that I forget it’s there at all. Will my pirouettes/turnout/pointe work/posture/ballon/flexibility ever get any better? They do, but it takes ages, so I hardly notice. Then I start looking for other ways of measuring progress. A few weeks ago I was talking to my teacher about another student who has hyperextended knees–when she straightens her leg, her knee goes past perfectly straight so her kneecap sort of disappears into her leg. Kinesiologically, hyperextension may not be a good thing, but my teacher said that some people look for it as a good quality in dancers because it creates a desirable leg line.

Other dancers, I have noticed, are not actually hyperextended but they appear to be, or nearly so, because their quads are so developed that they stand out as much as or more than their kneecaps do when the leg is straight. So you get one nice curve on the front of the thigh from hip to kneecap and one nice curve on the back of the calf from back knee to ankle. And then one nice curve on the top of the foot with a corresponding one under the arch when the foot is pointed. See? Look at her standing leg. (This one, by contrast, looks hyperextended to me…and look at Misha being all gorgeous and 25 with eyeshadow on.)

At the time, I was lamenting to Ms. M. that I’ve always had scrawny chicken legs (and am not hyperextended) and thus I never expect to have disappearing knees. Le sigh. Then, last week, I started noticing that the knees of all my 12-year-old classmates are starting to vanish. It seems like they have all broken out in ballet muscles all of a sudden–and they are even scrawnier than I am, being 12 and all. And yet I didn’t think it was happening to me–even though I can tell I’m getting stronger*–until yesterday, when I was randomly standing in 5th position** while waiting my turn to go across the floor. Lo and behold, my quads are definitely outpacing my kneecaps. Plus, I have actual calf muscles now for the first time in my life (see “scrawny chicken legs,” supra). Hey, you measure your progress your way and I’ll measure mine my way. I think prominent kneecaps are overrated.

*Last week: 72 relevés = torture with a side of calf cramps. This week: 72 relevés = manageable with a side of fun.***

**Thinking here of Adult Beginner spotting dancers in the wild by their tendency to stand in fifth (or first, or fourth) while, e.g., waiting at the grocery store checkout.

***Why can I do piqués but can’t yet do one-foot relevés in retiré or coupé?****

****My asterisks have asterisks. I’m stopping now.

behind the curtain dancing in the media Friday Night Dance Parties Uncategorized

Kirstie falls, Daniel snorts, I elbow Daniel in the face

Post author By lauraet
Post date April 7, 2011
2 Comments on Kirstie falls, Daniel snorts, I elbow Daniel in the face

First of all, let me say thank you once again to everybody who came out to our monthly-dance-turned-Daniel’s-birthday-party last night. It was a ton of fun, Daniel was delighted, and we will be eating the leftover snacks for days! Extra shout-outs to one couple (you know who you are) for bravely attending your first social dance EVER. It only gets easier from here!

Now, then (weird transition phrase, that). After finally watching Monday’s Dancing with the Stars sometime around Wednesday night–DVR is a necessity for the overscheduled–and seeing Kirstie Alley’s much-discussed fall, I realized I didn’t want to be the only dance blogger not to, well, discuss it. So: my thoughts, let me show you them.

I thought Maks was incredibly professional in the way he handled the whole thing. He immediately cued Kirstie back into the routine by listening to the music and taking a position that told her where they would pick up in the choreography. Then, once it was over, he took full responsibility for the fall–although Kirstie chimed in on Twitter and said “Maks is too humble; we all know it takes two to tango.” But as Daniel always reminds beginner gentlemen, the man is in charge on the dance floor but that means he has to take the blame if something goes wrong.

As for Kirstie, I’ve been impressed by her performances anyway, but the way she rose to the occasion of dancing the rest of her routine really knocked my socks off. That’s where her professionalism–born, I assume, of a long show-business career–stood her in good stead. Adrenaline can sometimes be your friend too: the worst has already happened, your body is buzzing from dealing with the sudden and unexpected, and stopping is not really an option, so why bother being cautious or anxious through the rest of the routine?

I worry that some people will look at the fall, think “Oh, that happened because Kirstie is too fat” and conclude that people who are not already at a healthy weight shouldn’t be dancing. Granted, Kirstie is not a 90-pound sylph, but few people are. Kirstie’s weight cannot have been an issue in that move, which (as she and Maks pointed out later in the “celebriquarium”) they had rehearsed a million times. Maks wouldn’t have put it in the choreography if he didn’t think they could both accomplish it. Ballroom dancing is impressively adaptable to people of all shapes and sizes; you don’t have to already be skinny and fit to start dancing or even to dance at quite a high level. It is also–as DWTS has shown repeatedly–an excellent way to get in shape and lose weight if that’s your goal.

People forget, when they see dance performances in their final state, that hours of blood, toil, tears, and sweat go into perfecting those performances. To me, Kirstie’s fall was merely an instance in which that hard work momentarily became visible in the final product. No one wants that to happen, but in a way I think it’s beneficial when it does. Dancing seems to intimidate a lot of people because they think of it as a product of talent rather than effort. I’ll give you a hint: it’s mostly effort. Which is why, in the course of learning the rumba routine we danced for everybody last night, I elbowed Daniel in the forehead hard enough to make a sound (“thwock!”) and Daniel once snorted (by accident) right behind my head and made me burst out laughing. Fortunately, those things happened in lessons and not in a performance. Kirstie and Maks did exactly the right thing when they just got up and kept going as if nothing had happened. That’s the part we could learn from. Daniel and I are both guilty of letting minor mishaps show on our faces when they would probably have gone unnoticed otherwise. It’s something we should work on so that if we ever have a major mishap on the floor, we have the wherewithal to follow Kirstie & Maks’s example and just keep going.

in other news

Dance Excuses

Last night we danced our new rumba routine at an International Festival event at Mercer University. It was a really nice event: good turnout, nice weather, really sweet organizer (Hi Laurel!). So if I didn’t dance well (spoiler: I didn’t), I can’t seriously blame anyone but myself. Still, on the way home I was consoling/amusing myself by thinking up excuses and pretty soon I decided that what the world needs is a master list of ballroom dancing excuses. This list will attempt to address social, competitive, and exhibition dancing. Feel free to add your own!

The floor was slippery
I couldn’t hear the music
We weren’t warmed up
Lost earring/eyelash/fingernail/concentration
It was too early in the morning
A judge was in our way
My shoes are too big
Dehydrated
I forgot the steps
My partner forgot the steps
I never knew any steps in that dance to begin with, a.k.a. “Who entered us in a Polka heat???”
The floor was sticky
Not enough hairspray
Not enough coffee
Not enough cocktails
Too many cocktails (moderation is key)
Handsy partner
We got an unlucky number
Other couples were sandbagging
Still working the kinks out of the new routine
Wedgie
Hypoglycemia
The floor was too small
I’m not cool enough for West Coast swing
Or Argentine tango
The tempo was off
The photographer blinded me with his flash
My shoes are too tight
We missed breakfast
I only know steps from [insert syllabus here]
I hate that song

Debating whether I should put asterisks next to the ones that have actually happened to us!

Uncategorized

Video Explosion, Part the Second!

Post author By lauraet
Post date March 31, 2011
2 Comments on Video Explosion, Part the Second!

Click through to see our Rhythm heats at last weekend’s Garden City Dance Challenge and our first-ever solo showcase performance. Thanks once again to Mom, the videographer on crack the crack videographer!

Uncategorized

Garden City Dance Challenge Video Explosion (Part 1!)

Post author By lauraet
Post date March 30, 2011
No Comments on Garden City Dance Challenge Video Explosion (Part 1!)

Okay, fans, click through for video of our Smooth heats at this past Saturday’s Garden City Dance Challenge in Augusta. Tomorrow I’ll post the Rhythm heats and our solo showcase!

Huge thanks to my mom for being our videographer. Next time we will teach you how to use the zoom and maybe even give you a tripod!

comp diary competitions friends & family

Garden City Dance Challenge

Post author By lauraet
Post date March 28, 2011
2 Comments on Garden City Dance Challenge

We got back yesterday afternoon from Augusta, GA and the Garden City Dance Challenge, where we had a lot of fun. My lack of self-tanner skills apparently wasn’t obvious, Daniel did not get busted for having gum in his mouth on the dance floor, we danced 15 heats (including our first-ever solo showcase) and I didn’t die even though I had a cold, and–best of all–my parents had a really good time. Dad is old enough to remember when social dancing was actually social in the sense that everyone learned how to do it, so he was quite intrigued by the difference between that and competitive dancesport. And my mom is–well, she’s a girl, so she took an avid interest in everyone’s costumes and hairstyles as well as the dancing itself. I was glad they could come just to see what a competition is like. Now, when we talk about it, they will have some context. When my dad asked me over dinner Friday night “What typically happens during a ‘heat’?” I realized that a ballroom competition is much easier to observe than it is to explain. So they had fun and got to meet some of the people we’re always talking about. The atmosphere in the ballroom was very energetic all day, which is helpful because competition days are so long. I had my false eyelashes on for something like 15 hours! All honor and glory to the organizers at Ballroom in Motion for making that magic happen.

The showcase performance went well, I think. I say “I think” because I haven’t quite dared to look at the video yet. Daniel said he could feel in my body how nervous I was. While I’m never conscious of being nervous, I do get a big hit of adrenaline when I perform, and I haven’t quite mastered how to use that to make me both aggressive and controlled. Clearly I was in a bit of a fugue state: after it was over I had to ask Daniel if he’d had his fedora on through the entire performance, because I couldn’t remember.

Our results were good, if not spectacular: this was a pro-am competition so only a few of our heats were contested and even those were only 2-3 couples. Nevertheless, we got a 1st for the very last heat of the day, Closed Silver American Rhythm. The couple we were up against had been beating us all day and I totally biffed the choreography in our new rumba routine, so I don’t set much store by that placement, but it was gratifying anyway. Mom & Dad left after we danced that last heat so we got to brag about our 1st place over breakfast with them the next morning. Since we were staying for the awards we also got to see the pro heats–only one round each of Smooth and Rhythm but they were so exciting to watch. I don’t actually want to be a professional but I’d like to dance like one!

Who’s ready for pictures?

Speaking of pictures, I have to give props to Stephen Marino, or “The Silent Photographer,” as he is known in my head. This man tirelessly took photos on Saturday for as many hours as I wore eyelashes (maybe more), and the pictures are GORGEOUS. I spoke to him in the evening and soon recognized that he was not responding verbally. At first I thought it was some artsy shtick but then he whispered that he had lost his voice on a trip to Bermuda. (Bermuda: poor guy!) It turns out that a photographer doesn’t have to talk very much. In this case, at least, his pictures speak for him very well.

And for those of you who like your pictures to move around, videos will be up soon. Special thanks to my mom for serving as videographer all day!