Author: lauraet

Move aside and let the man go through

Post author By lauraet
Post date May 12, 2011
12 Comments on Move aside and let the man go through

I’ve seen this phenomenon time and again with adult learners, regardless of what they are learning. But I never thought it would happen to me.

See, I’m in this contemporary dance class at my studio. It’s pretty advanced and very choreography-focused. Physically, I can keep up. But I’ve never had contemporary before and it’s been a while since I’ve had to remember choreo that wasn’t also being filtered through my partner. Our routine for the annual recital involves a lot of changes of formation and direction and other spatial stuff that, in combination with the intricate steps, causes my brain to emit a continuous high-pitched whine of anxiety. “EEEEEEEEEEEE I CAN’T REMEMBER WHAT TO DO NEXT AND I AM GETTING IT ALL WRONG AND EEEEEEEEEEEE.” I’ve been trying to keep all that on the inside, figure it out as we go, and not take up too much time asking our teacher to review. I thought if I could just do it enough times and inobtrusively watch the others, I would pick it up. That worked, mostly, but in a couple of places we are moving in circles, turning around, or transitioning in groups so that I’m not even sure who to watch and follow. And recital is now just a couple of weeks away. “EEEEEEEEEEEEE IMPENDING DOOM EEEEEEEEEEEE.”

Last night, I was saved. Our teacher had to reset part of the routine because one dancer had to drop out at the last minute. The reworked part happened to be one of the parts I was having the most trouble with. Teacher also asked me if I wanted her to review my other problem area. I somehow went into this anxiety-driven monologue about bursting into flames on the stage, and the class picked it up and constructed a hilarious narrative in which I turned into a phoenix. Then we went over Hard Part #1 and I felt better about it. Later I confessed that I was still having to watch people during Hard Part #2 to know what to do, and Teacher said that was fine, I could watch someone till I got it.

And then, at the end of the class, we ran the routine one more time, and something weird happened: EVERYTHING WAS FINE. I did Hard Part #1, no problem, and although I think I was standing in the wrong place at one point during Hard Part #2, I did not, in fact, burst into flames. By the time we get through next week’s class, blocking rehearsal next Sunday, and dress rehearsal before recital, I will definitely be in good shape.

After class I told Teacher that venting all my anxiety about not understanding the routine seemed to have helped. As I told her, “I think I was concentrating so hard on not knowing the routine that I drowned out the fact that I actually know the routine.” She, God bless her, did not shake her head sadly at my insanity but in fact said she’d had the same experience in the past. I was getting in my own way. I see it with people learning to dance all the time. They are doing a step perfectly well, but they think they are making a mistake, so they stop.

As adults, we have a hard time doing things badly. We want to stop and make sure before we forge ahead and potentially look foolish. But constantly playing defense against mistakes means not finding out how much we’re actually capable of when we commit fully to trying something new. The brain is so focused on self-monitoring that it can’t fully concentrate on the main task: dancing! It’s understandable that in partner dancing, a person would be particularly concerned about doing everything correctly–that person is not the only one at risk if something goes wrong. Still, which is worse: always holding back for fear of stepping on someone’s foot, or stepping on them once and getting it over with? When the mistake is made, you know you have found the boundary. You can go right up to that edge the next time, without going over it.

I don’t get this right all the time either. But last night was a powerful reminder. Get out of your own way and you’ll find out that you know more/can do more/can dance better than you think.

comp diary competitions

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.

dancing in the media in other news Uncategorized

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!