The paradigm of leading and following

Lately I've been working with my students on dancing in closed position to work on improving their lead/follow, body movement, and musicality. Despite the fact that I had the partners dancing nearly body-to-body, center-to-center, nevertheless, without fail, many if not most of the leaders would try to use their arms to move the follower, and many of the followers would try to guess where the leader was going.

In my view, this behavior is symptomatic of the general paradigm by which we often dance: the leader moves the follower, and the follower goes where the leader wants her to go.

Think about that for a moment.

The leader moves the follower. He is responsible for moving her from one place to another. Not the follower herself, but the leader does the moving. And the follower goes where the leader wants her to go. Where he wants her to go. The priority is on what the leader wants. And so the leader spends his time focused on moving the follower, and the follower spends her time focused on what the leader wants. And this was playing out in class, where the students were dancing in closed position.

The challenge is to shift our thinking about the role of the partners and the dynamic between them. Leaders should be focused on moving not their partners but their own bodies, and letting the follower respond (aka "body lead"). And followers shouldn't be trying to read his mind but rather focus on moving themselves in response to what they feel from the leader (aka "following").

This is a subtle distinction, but watch how many people have a hard time doing it. Because after months or even years of living with the current paradigm, we so easily slip into what we already know and do. The new paradigm isn't impossible or even too difficult. It just takes commitment, the right training, and lots of mindful effort. But man, think of how great partner dancing could be if we did change the paradigm...

Pay attention to the dynamic you set up in your own dancing, and watch others when you get the chance. Which paradigm are you dancing and seeing? What happens when you try dancing the new one? Teachers, how is your teaching - both the content and the manner - shaping your students' understanding of the role of the partners and the dynamic between them?

The Joy of Blues Dancing

I've written before about how closed position creates more intimacy between the partners, and how it allows the partners to feel out one another together with the music.

Blues dancing is danced to slow blues - the kind that just begs for intimacy - and as such, it is danced primarily in closed position (depending on how much swing you mix into it). Learning blues dancing is a great way for all swing dancers to develop useful skills, such as leading and following, body movements, and musical interpretation.

Because the dance is in closed, blue dancing is a great way to understand leading and following. In closed position, the leader need only focus on the movement of his own body, and let the follower move with him. As a follower, she can learn to surrender to his lead and go with what she feels. With the centers close together, this dance is very much about dancing center to center.

Since the music is slower and in closed position, there is more time to explore body movement, rather than utilize patterns and footwork. With the partners' bodies closer together, it is easier to communicate subtle movements, and it affords us the opportunity to really explore the music with different parts of our bodies.

Finally, because the music is slower, and because we're in closed position, it allows us both the time and the freedom to focus on the music. Without the need to worry about leading and following patterns, we can get down to the fundamentals of movement to music.

Better body leads and follows, more body movements over patterns and footwork, and time to explore the music with your partner. Doesn't that sound like a great recipe for amazing partner dancing?

Have you tried blues dancing? If so, how has it affected your understanding of swing dancing? Teachers, have you thought about using blues dancing to help your students focus on the fundamentals of swing dancing?

Choose Your Own Adventure

When we learn patterns, we learn them from start to finish. We're shown the beginning, the middle, and the end and how they flow together. We learn them with a set rhythm, a set timing, a set progression.

And that's the problem. Patterns are taught as whole units with a prescribed beginning, middle, and end. Once a leader starts, he moves towards the end that he was taught follows the beginning. And followers in the same class also develop the same expectation, which is only reinforced when the leader does as he was taught. In this way, both leaders and followers become what we call "pattern dancers."

And so we usually know the end when we get started. As a result, we lose a sense of spontaneity and we take away creative opportunities - opportunities to engage with our partners and to respond to the music. If both partners know the set pattern, it's all too easy to disengage from your partner and just go through the motions. After all, you don't need their guidance or assistance because you already know the end of the story. And of course set patterns may or may not fit the music well, but if the partners aren't open to new endings, then they each take away the chance to adapt to what they're hearing.

I don't often teach patterns anymore, but when I do, I try to teach at least two or three similar "patterns" but each with some unique variation. (Think of whip variations.) It helps the leaders to disconnect beginnings from ends and see that each is an element that can be pieced together in different ways. It also tests their ability to lead - both in terms of thinking on their feet as well as seeing the options and executing clearly. For followers, they are programmed to pay attention, expect the unexpected, to not know the ending, and therefore to be open to more possibilities. This makes them stronger followers and better partners.

For me, much of the joy of West Coast Swing is in the spontaneous creation between the partners with the music, but to have this we need to break down patterns into elements of movement and to be open to piecing them together in different ways. That way together we get to choose our own adventure as we go along.

How have you been taught patterns and how has it affected your dancing? Do you notice pattern dancers while you're dancing, either in yourself or your partners? Teachers, do you pay attention to how the way you teach patterns affects your students' dancing? Do you have methods to help avoid training them to become pattern dancers?

Navigating a crowded floor

We've all been there. All too often. The couple that keeps intruding on our slot. The guy who leads his follower right into us. The woman whose arm styling means a whack to the head. The floor that's too crowded.

It never ceases to amaze me that some people just don't learn how to dance on a crowded floor. At the same time, how often do we teach people how to dance on a crowded floor? Let's face it: the dance class is an idyllic environment compared to the social dance floor, where people tend to have enough room and they are hyper-aware of themselves and those around them under the watchful eye of a teacher.

Every now and then I get around to teaching a class on floorcraft - the art of dance floor navigation and etiquette. Here are ten tips for successful dancing on a crowded floor:

1. Look around you. Seems obvious enough, but we tend to get focused on what we're doing and lose sight of how what we're doing fits into the space around us. Leaders in particular should look to where they are sending their followers, before sending them there.
2. Narrow the slot. Pretty obvious here too. If there's less space on the floor, then occupy less space.
3. Use the slot you have. Leaders, if you don't have room for a full slot, consider dancing with half a slot, think about what you can do in closed position, or maybe use a change of places to keep the flow of your patterns.
4. Keep things simple. Not only are simpler moves less risky to execute successfully, but it's also easier to interrupt a simpler move to make course corrections. This goes for leaders and followers.
5. Learn to abort smoothly. If someone moves into your slot as you're executing a move, find a way to gracefully change the ending. Cutoffs and moving into closed position are great options for leaders, while bending the slot and pattern extensions are helpful tools for followers. (Remember: Communicate kindly to your partner.)
6. Protect your partner. If your partner is going to get hit or is going to collide with someone they can't see, let them know. A simple squeeze of the hand is usually effective.
7. Adjust your frame. Your body is yours to control, so if you have less space, adjust your frame so it's shorter (but not tighter). Leaders, think about the timing of your anchor and how much counterbalance you provide, and followers think about keeping a closer relationship between your center and hand.
8. Consider moving your slot. If the space at either end of your slot is too cramped, think about shifting your slot to open space left or right (assuming you're not moving into someone else's slot).
9. Be sure to finish. Remember that good communication depends on good connection, and good connection comes from good movement. If we don't finish patterns by moving our centers into or away from our partners, we won't create extension or compression, and we'll have a harder time communicating in an environment where communication is even more important.
10. Apologize. We're both responsible for a successful dance, so take responsibility when something goes awry. (You'd be surprised how often people don't acknowledge collisions and other accidents or check in with their partners.)

The joy of partner dancing is that we get to share in the experience with someone else. So let's all do our part to make sure everyone has a good time.

What do you all do to adjust to crowded floors? What are some of the biggest dangers you've encountered? Teachers, how do you prepare your students and teach them floorcraft?

Push it real good

Alright, people, we've got to address a serious problem facing our community. We've all faced it, felt its effects, and yet we continue to let it permeate our dancing.

That's right. I'm talking about our failure to properly compress. 

Let's get something straight: compression is a kind of connection, and connection is the result of movement. In this case, the movement of one partner towards the other, or both partners towards each other. Compression happens as the partners get close together and reach the closest they can get. The prime example of compression is the push break, one of the most basic and fundamental patterns of the dance, where the follower moves into the leader, creating compression, and then is sent back to the end of the slot.

So compression happens as one partner moves closer to the other, but it's not so simple - there's more to it than that. In order to create compression, some fundamental technique must be in place. 

For one, the partners must maintain their posture, such that they are moving from their centers and their centers are in front of their feet. At the same time, they should be holding their own weight, and not leaning forward such that their partner are supporting most of their weight. Of course, all too often, during a push break, you see followers who not only don't bring their centers forward, but actually lean back, reaching with their feet and pushing their hips forward instead.

This leads me to the second important technique: following through. On a push break, the compression results from the follower moving into the leader, but frequently followers slow and stop themselves before they get to full compression. Not only is this anticipating (and thus poor following) but it is poor technique and sacrifices proper connection. The follower must continue and go forward as far as she can, making the leader do the work of slowing her down and stopping her by absorbing her weight as she comes in. (The leader should allow the follower to come in and compress, rather than abruptly stopping her by keeping his arms out in front of him. Which leads me to my next point...)

Third, we call this compression because there is actual compressing involved - compressing of the frame. If the arms, shoulders, and elbows are relaxed (as part of proper frame), then as the leader draws the follower in, his hands will get closer to his center, and as the follower moves into the leader, she will move her center in towards her hands. As a result, the distance between the partners narrows, and the pattern is literally compressed. This elasticity in the arms is also what creates the elasticity in the connection, providing a build up of energy during compression that facilitates the movement out of compression.

Finally, while some people may learn to create compression by doing all of the above, there is still the matter of properly and effectively exiting from compression. If compression results from the follower moving into the leader, then the next natural movement is to have the follower move away from the leader. As always, whenever there is a change of direction, the leader should initiate from his center (rather than his arms) and the follower should wait for his signal and then be proactive in her response. On top of this, the partners should not push the other away - pushing engages the arm muscles and creates a jarring experience for the partner. Rather, the leader should initiate the follower away with his body only, and the follower should send her center away from her own hands (the reverse of compressing). This is not only a more comfortable way to exit, but it ensures both partners maintain their posture and thus are more balanced and stable in their movement.

Compression is a difficult to master as extension, though we rarely spend as much time working on it. However, a focus on maintaining the fundamental technique of movement - from the center with proper frame - can dramatically improve one's compression along with any other change in connection.

What are your observations of how people compress on the dance floor? What goes wrong and when does it feel right? At what point in your dance education did you first learn compression and what were you taught? At what point after you first learned about compression did you feel you learned how to do it properly? And teachers, how do you approach the subject with your students? What exercises or approaches have you found to work best in order to help your students understand and execute properly?

Hitting the breaks... or not

In exploring blues music, one inevitably comes across the infamous "break" - the last 8 beats of a major phrase during which the instruments build up tension that resolves with the new phrase. Sometimes this break is a hard stop of all vocals and instrumentation (what we often think of when we hear the word "break"). Other times it is a change in instrumentation (some instruments temporarily stop playing), and sometimes it's simply a big percussive crescendo that ends on the first beat of the new phrase.

Lots of dancers can feel the build up to the break and in response they hit the break hard, stopping completely and holding until the new phrase begins. If it's a hard break and the music stops, it makes sense that the dancers should likewise stop moving (of course, I know of others who may disagree). But while we occasionally encounter hard breaks (a stop of all vocals and instruments), most songs have breaks that include some vocals or instrumentation. In those cases, a hard stop might not be the most appropriate (read: musical). (NB: Even during a hard break, picking up momentum and building to the new major phrase is a great way to create tension and contrast.) But there are several different ways for interpreting the break section, depending on the nature of the break and what's occurring musically. I would argue that the four primary ways of dealing with breaks are the following:

1. Ignore the break and build up to the first beat of the new phrase.
2. Build up to the break and then stop or hold until the new phrase begins (hard break).
3. Build up to the break and then dance through the break but with less momentum (soft break).
4. Build up to and hit the break and then build momentum again to the first beat of the new phrase.

It's good to be able to do all four options, so you can adapt to whatever song is playing and so you have a wider range of options for responding to breaks, leading to more variety and different creative opportunities. And, as noted in my previous post, it's always better if you can execute in a way that is comfortable and inviting for your partner.

Of course, the idea here is that at a minimum, whether you have a hard stop or simply change your movement in some way, you should acknowledge the break in your dancing. If the music is changing during the break, then your dancing should likewise change. If you maintain the business-as-usual momentum and dance through any accents or crescendos or stops, then you're missing the break altogether; it's not musical, and it probably won't feel as good.

What is your approach to breaks? How do you describe or identify breaks? How were you taught (or how do you teach) about hitting the breaks?

I Got The Blues

Blues music derives its name from “blue devils” – melancholy and sadness. Blues music in all its forms are about hard times, sometimes to express sadness, sometimes to celebrate resilience in the face of such hard times. But from a technical standpoint, blues music can be defined two ways: as a musical genre with a given style, and as a musical form with a given structure.

Blues music as a genre is defined by a few characteristics. One is the instruments themselves, usually grounded in rhythm-based instruments, such as guitar, drums, and bass, though often incorporating other instruments as well. The second is the lyrics, which, again, are often about sadness and resilience, and which reflect the call-and-response scheme of African and African American music. And there’s the walking bass line, which sometimes swings and sometimes moves up and down a progression of notes (or both). 

Blues music can also be defined as a cyclical musical form, meaning it has a repeated chord progression. Unlike ballad or song form, which has several different kinds of phrases (e.g. verse, chorus, pre-chorus, bridge, etc.), blues music is one chord progression repeated over and over. Twelve-bar blues is the most common progression, but there are many variations on twelve-bar blues, and there are other common progressions, such as eight-bar blues and sixteen-bar blues.

What I find interesting is that despite the repetition in structure, to me blues is rarely boring or monotonous. For one thing, each chord progression is a little rollercoaster, growing and building and then resolving by the end. And this rollercoaster plays out over the course of the song too: blues songs tend to grow in emotion and intensity as they progress, dropping during instrumentals and picking up for the big finish. And though the chord progression repeats, oftentimes phrases differ greatly in feel and style, mixing lyrics with instrumental solos, playing with rhythm and volume. And even within phrases there are riffs, accents, breaks, and lots of emotion behind the lyrics. 

Though more modern songs have variety in the chord progressions, I find they can often feel repetitive, because they are frequently so rhythm heavy and the rhythm is constant, and because they often don't vary much in volume or emotional intensity. Not true of all modern genres, of course - there are lots of pop ballads that have great variety in emotion and feel - but I find I feel this way about much of the "dance" music we dance to these days.

How do you define blues? What do you listen for in a song that tells you its blues? What do you like or dislike about blues? And how do you think blues music compares to more modern genres we dance to?

The $64,000 Question

Every few years a controversy erupts in the swing community, something at a competitive event that riles people up and gets everyone talking. That happened once again at this year's Tampa Bay Classic.

I first heard about this through the grapevine, not long after it happened, and I subsequently read Liza May's account of what happened. After a few rounds of phone tag, I was finally able to get in touch with someone who was in the room, so I could find out what actually occurred from someone who was there.

I'll spare you the details, but essentially what happened was that the Showcase couples competed Friday night, and on Saturday, the head judge convened a second judging panel to review video of the routines for swing content. Saturday night the Showcase competitors were called into a special meeting, where they were informed that their routines would likely receive swing content violations at this week's US Open. Competitors were shocked and concerned, others were appalled and confused, and everyone was upset and angry that the head judge killed the mood of the event.

As a result, a firestorm erupted on Facebook as Mario Robau commented, and then Earl Pingel and Parker Dearborn debated with him about what happened, what it means for the competitors involved, what it means for judging in general, and what it means for the dance and the dance community as a whole.

While pretty shocking, it wasn't nearly as bad or as severe as reports might have you believe. The Showcase competitors weren't disqualified at the event, and no one told them they had to change their choreography. From what I heard from Showcase competitors, they were mostly upset that no one provided a clear explanation of what "swing content" is - and therefore what they should do to make sure they have enough of it in their routines.

And that, in my mind, is what this is ultimately all about: swing content. What is it? What is enough of it to call a dance "swing" or not "swing"? And even if you could say how much of it you need for a dance to be "swing", how would you measure it?

Whether we like it or not, our dance is competition-oriented, meaning that it is competition that both sets the standard and simultaneously pushes the limits of our dance. One could argue that our dance has evolved so rapidly because our community's top competitors have been seeking new music and new moves that expand our dance. At the same time, others argue that what's being done is no longer swing - and that brings us back to the definition of "swing."

I don't consider myself a swing purist, but I also think that there are some things out there today on our competitive dance floor that aren't swing. I took one of Mario's intensives once, and personally, I kinda like how he defines swing. I'm paraphrasing here, but in his intensive he lays out the elements of swing that together make the dance: partnership, a slot, starting with even rhythms and ending with odd rhythms, the connection of the anchor, and a foundation of 6- and 8-count patterns. He then uses the analogy of a table to describe how he sees the dance: swing is the tabletop, held up by several legs - these elements of swing - and while you can remove one or two of them, eventually, if you remove too many, the table collapses and you no longer have swing.

In my mind, there are certain things that are not swing: excessive walking, finger spins, rolling around on the floor. These are not unique to our dance, or even to any dance, and when I see too much of it in competition, I can't help but roll my eyes and think, "For goodness' sake: dance!" But there's a grey space between swing basics and "flash and trash" - where two people are dancing together to the music with some but not all of those key elements of swing - that leaves some of us thrilled by the display of innovation and others disappointed at the degradation of our dance.

The bottom line is that there is no universal definition of swing, and the definition - like the dance itself - is very personal, with each person having their own view. We may get a consensus among an authoritative body of judges, but my guess is that the definition will either be so narrow as to limit creativity and innovation (and thus cause a riot among competitors) or else be so broad that it says nothing (but appeals to everyone). This dance evolves - it originally came about and became its own dance by evolving away from its parent dance, lindy hop - and it will continue to evolve. Maybe a new dance will be born, maybe this dance will cycle back to its origins the way the lindy community did a few years ago when it had its revival, and maybe we'll just keep pushing the limits of this dance while keeping it rooted in the fundamentals.

I don't know how this will all play out, but I'm looking forward to seeing it either way.

What about you? How do you define "swing"? How do you feel about the direction of the dance and its "swing content"? Would you like to see more swing in competitions? How much more? Post your comments below.

One more thing: Happy Thanksgiving! And best of luck to those competing at the US Open this weekend!

What is "better dancing"?

Lately I've been thinking more about what to teach in order to help my students become better dancers. This, of course, leads to the question: What does "better dancing" mean?

If we think about what "dancing" or "partner dancing" means, I think we can all agree that we want to be someone that everyone enjoys dancing with - someone with whom people feel good dancing, with whom people want to dance again and again. Sure, there's a lot involved in that - partnership, musicality, technique - but it is a good North Star towards which we can orient our learning. (And also a goal that is both noble and, in some ways, measurable.)

In our effort to become "better dancers" we set lots of different goals for ourselves. It's good to have goals, both immediate and long-term. In fact, it's not only good, but I would argue it's necessary if you want to improve. After all, if you're not working at getting better, then you're just doing more of the same, which is only maintaining the status quo. If you want to change something, you have to actively do something about it.

But equally important is knowing what to do to reach our goals, and what to do is wholly dependent on what your goal is. If you know what you're aiming for, then you can set some concrete long-term goals and determine some specific and immediate steps to get you there.

Sometimes we set broader, long-term goals, like "be really musical" or "be a champion dancer" or, sometimes, "dance like [so-and-so]." Sometimes we work on more specific and immediate goals (which are often suggested by our instructors), like "stand up straighter" or "relax my arm" or "practice this footwork variation."

Yet I sometimes find that there is a disconnect between our immediate focus and our ultimate goal. As a teacher, I ask students in private lessons what their ultimate goals are, because I believe that should inform the more specific "homework" I give them. For every goal there are certain steps I would recommend to getting there. So if you want to be a better dancer, you should first think about what that means to you.

So, what do you think it means to be a "better dancer"? What are your goals and how do you plan on getting there? What are you working on now and how will that get you towards your goals?

Dancing without soul

Earlier this month, I went to my favorite event, Boogie by the Bay. The reasons I like this event are many, but the most important one is that I always leave the event feeling better about dancing. The event this year was a particularly good refresher for me, shifting my perspective and maybe even my dancing itself.

One thing I particularly enjoyed this year was the music. I tend to really like the DJs at Boogie - not all, admittedly, but most, especially the amazing Beth Bellamy. You can't please all of the people all of the time, but what I like about her most - other than the fact that I like her taste in music - is that she plays a great variety of music, mixing genre and tempo so that every song is something different from the previous. With such a wide diversity of great music out there, few people explore that range and few do so in a way that keeps you dancing.

I also have to give a shoutout to Arjay Centeno, who very pleasantly surprised me with his set. It was like the "groove and soul" hour, with an amazing mix of soulful songs, new and old. Motown, old soul, classic R&B, modern R&B, neo-soul, top 40 with a beat - it was all good. I talked with several people who expected a faster, more club-heavy experience from Arjay, but loved his mix (and I hope the NextGen committee keeps him for next year!).

But his set, along with much of the music I enjoyed that weekend, made me wonder: Where has the soul gone from our dancing?

I moved to California last year, so maybe it's just the trend here, but it seems like there's more and more fast top 40 dance music (and endless covers and remakes of said music) and less blues, classic R&B, Motown, or anything with real soul (as in, deep feeling and emotion). Where's the Al Green? Aretha Franklin? Sam Cooke? Eric Clapton? Susan Tedeschi? Where is the drippy music, the groovin' music, the music that is best served with a glass of whiskey, or the music that two people should really only dance to in private?

I've written before about the important role music plays in shaping our dance, and this new shift in music has me thinking - and somewhat concerned.

Is it just me? Is it just the places where I dance? Are you guys hearing good blues, soul, and R&B where you live? Do you miss it? Is this just a trend, since fast dance music is popular on the radio? Or is WCS moving in a new indefinite direction?

Top 10 Ways to Improve Your Dancing: Part 2

Sorry for the long delay, but picking up where my last post left off... (The rest of this list reorganizes - and adds to - what I taught in my last class at Arlington in August 2010, but it also includes the same material and principles.)

6. Following through. For followers, this means following momentum to its end. Too many followers slow down or stop themselves before they should. Instead, followers should go as far as they can go in any direction, and let the leaders tell them when to change direction (see #7 below). For leaders, this means using your body to direct the follower. Leaders often get the follower started without directing her to where he wants her. Once she's in motion, leaders, you need to point your body where you want her to end up. This creates a body lead through the pattern, and not just at the beginning.

7. Understand your responsibilities. I realize we're starting to get a little abstract here, but dancing is more than just the physical. It seems to me that a lot of dancers forget what their responsibilities are in the dance. Leaders are primarily responsible for changes of direction; once you set the follow in motion, your job is to signal any changes, and to do so in a clear yet comfortable way. Followers are primarily responsible for themselves and their own movement; the leader should not be in charge of moving you, but rather he should be in charge of signaling where and how you should move yourself. Too often followers move themselves through the transitions and leaders force the followers through the middle of the patterns. This is the opposite of how it should be.

8. Understand your role. Similar to understanding your responsibilities is understanding your role. (You can think of it as your tasks vs. your approach to doing your tasks.) The leader's role is to guide the follower and politely ask her to do something, or even just suggest ideas. The leader is the follower's guide - her director, her point of reference, and her support - but not her commanding officer - her dictator and overlord. Followers should respect the leader's role - his vision and intent - and respond affirmatively, but she can and should also actively participate by communicating effectively. Remember: dance is a conversation, so this should be a back and forth, but not talking over each other and not ignoring or interrupting what the other person is saying.

9. Musicality. Yeah, I know, I could write volumes on this subject, but I just want to emphasize one point here: dance is the physical expression of what we hear and feel. It's all too easy to get lost in patterns as a leader, or stylings as a follower, but remember that there's a difference between doing a dance and dancing. Doing a dance is putting a series of patterns and moves together, but has nothing to do with music, while dancing itself is moving to the music, regardless of the patterns. The trick is to take the movements of the dance and fit them to the music we're hearing. Let the music be your guide whether you're a leader or follower. Easier said than done, I know, but it's the ultimate goal we're all striving for.

10. Pay attention. I know this probably seems trite, but it needs to be explicitly stated. If everyone just paid more attention to their partners (yes, you have two - your dance partner and the music!) our dancing would be better overall. When leaders don't pay attention to the follower, they end up using her and treating her as an object rather than a person. When followers ignore the leader they interrupt the dance and create unnecessary tension. And when both partners ignore the music they stop short of having an experience where they both share in the interpretation of what they hear. Most of you know how to drive, so you know what it's like to pay attention to a lot of things at once (speedometer, radio, traffic, person in the car with you, checking your mirrors, etc.). Dancing is the same way: there's a lot going on but you've gotta try and keep your eye out. Start by paying attention to your dance partner, and then try alternating that with paying attention to the music. It gets easier over time.

What about you? Do you agree with this list? What do you think is the single most important difference between good partner dancing and great partner dancing?

Top 10 Ways to Improve Your Dancing: Part 1

For my final two weeks of classes in Boston, I figured I would go all out and strike at the issues I see as most critical for dancers in our community. As an observer in the scene, I find the same problems persisting on the social and competitive floors, and as an instructor, I find myself repeatedly teaching the same things in private lessons and group classes: fundamentals that make the difference between poor execution and a higher quality of movement.

So I sat down, wrote a list of the top 10 problems I see with people's dancing and then came up with 10 things that I believe make the difference between okay dancing and higher-level dancing. They aren't mutually exclusive, and in fact there's a lot of overlap. Not everyone has all of these issues, but most people have at least some. Here's the first half of what I came up with (the second half will be my next post!):

1. Posture. This is a big one - bigger than most realize. Partner dancing is only successful with good communication, and good communication is only possible with good connection. Good connection is created by good movement, and good movement is only possible with good posture. Posture determines balance and stability as well as how one moves. Too often I see people leaning back or with arched backs, which means poor movement, poor connection, and thus poor partnership."Good" posture is the vertical alignment that reduces strain on your body and positions it for efficient movement. In this case, that means standing tall and with forward pitch.

2. Frame. You all have felt bad frame: tight arms, jerky leads, follows who pull. I'm not sure how other teachers handle this subject, but my point is always that your arms don't matter. Frame is not a prescribed shape of the arms or tension in the arms, shoulders, or elbows. Frame is in the back and torso - how you connect your arms to your core - and connection is created by movement of the centers, not through engaging the arms. Don't worry about the arms; focusing on the arms unintentionally puts tension there. To establish good frame, all you have to do is stand tall and lengthen your neck. In doing that, you'll engage all the right muscles - in the back - that you need to establish proper frame.

3. Basic hand hold. In open position, we connect through the hands. Somehow this becomes an awkward and difficult thing for people. Maybe it's how we teach pistol grip, or the fact that we often fail to sufficiently address problems with hand holds as students progress (or as they hurt us on the social dance floor). Still, there it is: the thumb on the back of the follower's hand, or the leader grabbing the follower around the wrist (what's wrong with her hand?), or the follower who straightens her fingers, or worse, the follower whose grip is so tight the leader's fingertips are white. I know this sounds like an oversimplification, but really, truly, you're only holding hands. Seriously, just as if you were going to walk down the street together, you're holding hands. The leader should offer his fingers for the follower (leader's palm facing sideways, not up or down) and she should curl her fingers around it, both partners engaging their fingertips - and not their palms - to mold to each other. The connection here should be comfortable, solid, and flexible (meaning you can enter, exit, and change this connection with ease). No thumbs, no engaging the palms or wrists, no straight or stiff fingers.

4. Closed Position. I often remind students that nearly everything you need to know about your dance with someone you can tell in the first 4 beats of the music, and this is because you can tell a lot about someone's abilities by how they connect and move in closed position. Maybe it's because the dance is mostly in open, but there isn't a lot of emphasis on connecting in closed, despite the fact that it involves a lot of the fundamentals of the dance itself. In any case, the primary point of connection in closed is where the leader's right hand is on the follower's back, since it is the closest point of contact to the center. The follower should not lean back into this, but should back up until she cannot back up any further. She should not reach for the leader's shoulder (as so many do) but rather connect in the back first, and then casually lay her left arm along his right, letting the hand lay wherever is comfortable (often not the shoulder). Leaders should hold the follower's shoulder blade, not with the fingertips but as if he was going to hug her. As noted above, there is no tension in the arm, just the connection of her shoulder blade in the hand. Both partners should settle away from one another, to fill out the space between them and get a better connection. I could go on and on here, but let's leave it at that.

5. Moving from the center. I've written before about the need to move from the center first, and it is the most critical issue on this list, largely because this is at the root of all other issues. I see lots of followers moving forward feet first and leaders moving backwards shoulders first and both are dramatically affecting their balance, timing, and connection. I see leaders who move their arms instead of their centers, creating arm leads. I see followers who turn from their feet - and arms! - rather than with their centers, creating imbalance, instability, and poor timing. The ability to move from your center first into every step you take is critical to good dancing.


Rather than exhaust you further with the full list, I'll save the other half for next time.... So stay tuned!

The Power of Music

It probably doesn't come as any surprise, but (hang on to your hats!) music is important to dance. After all, dance is the expression of music through rhythmic, bodily movements. The whole idea behind musicality is trying to express the music as much and as accurately as possible.

In fact, dances are born and created in large part because of new forms of music. For instance, swing dancing itself took shape to a new musical form known as jazz, and mambo and cha-cha came about as musicians in the Caribbean began merging American jazz with Afro-Cuban rhythms. Throughout history, dancers have created new dance forms in response to new musical forms.

We sometimes forget, too, that dances change and evolve in response to music. This may be especially true of dances like West Coast Swing, which is danced to a wide range of musical genres and receives a constant flow of new music. If you watch videos of West Coast Swing dancing twenty or even ten years ago compared with today, you'll certainly notice the difference in the music (perhaps with a bit of nostalgia, perhaps with fear) but you'll also notice a difference in the dancing. This makes sense, of course: as the music changes, so should the dancing since, after all, the dancing should reflect the music.

Curiously, although dance is ultimately the physical expression of music, there are many forces operating in a social dance world that may have a greater influence on the dance than the music. For instance, how instructors teach the dance can have a significant impact on the dance - both how it's done and our collective understanding of it. And, of course, as people with knowledge of different dances come into the community, they bring their knowledge of other dance forms with them. Certainly over the past few years the West Coast Swing community has seen Hustle, Hand Dancing, and Carolina Shag - among others - shape the dance. Moreover, dancers with a background in classical forms of dance or who have studied kinesiology (study of movement) and related fields also contribute to our collective understanding of the dance and of dancing as a whole. Particular individuals can also set new trends in patterns, stylings, or even the music we choose to dance to. These trendsetters may influence others either through social dancing or through choreography and competitive dancing. Competition itself can often drive changes in the social dance scene, as the winning dance will set the standard for what "good" dancing is (another discussion for another post... or two or ten!).

So just how much does the music really influence the dance? There are some in the community who are not happy with the current trend in music - the dance/urban/hip-hop genres of music that are predominated by heavy and repetitive rhythms. Some of them argue that the move away from faster, swung rhythms (found in a lot of blues and swing songs) and towards slower, "contemporary" music has led to the loss of the anchor in the dance, and that West Coast Swing has lost its "swing" element. Others argue that the loss of connection and related technique stems not from the music, but rather from a lack of proper instruction and from the misguided emulation of talented dancers by those less skilled. (Personally, I agree with the notion that the music certainly influences the dance, but I think in this particular argument I would side with the latter argument. Then again, I would argue that one can anchor at slow speeds and without a swung rhythm. But again, another post for another day...)

I have had the pleasure of speaking with a particular experienced and respected instructor about this topic, and he advised me to think about what music I play when teaching my students. Am I playing "contemporary" music with straight time or blues music with swung rhythms? Am I playing repetitive songs or songs with variation? Are they really slow, medium tempo, or fast? The idea is that the music we learn to dance to can greatly influence how we dance - as well as our understanding of what the dance is.

Ironically, in some way, the influence of the music is circular, since the dancers - sometimes a select set of trendsetters, instructors, and DJs - are choosing the music to which we dance. In the case of West Coast Swing, dancers are taking the music they hear on the radio that they like and then playing it at dances where they adapt the dance appropriately. So the influence of the music becomes a (sort of) chicken-and-the-egg type debate: does the music influence the dance, or do the dancers influence the dance by way of the music?

What do you think? Has the change in music been the main reason for the change in the dance? Have you witnessed any evidence that suggests the music has directly changed how we dance West Coast Swing? Or do you think social factors like instruction, trendsetters, competition, and the influences of other dances has driven the evolution of the dance? What kind of music do you hear in lessons and has that influenced your understanding of how to do this dance? Instructors, what kind of music do you play in lessons and why?

The Only One

Part of the joy of dancing is discovering how it relates to the random things that you come across in your everyday life. As someone in nonprofit communications, I read a lot of literature on how to communicate effectively and I never cease to be amazed at how appropriate the principles apply to dancing.

The latest gem actually comes from a book about successful people in the workplace. The author states that the difference between a "good" leader and a "great" leader is not just the ability to listen, but listening to people as if they are the only person in the room at the time. (Bill Clinton is apparently an excellent example of this - part of his charm as well as his ability to manage a presidential administration.)

I always teach that any good leader is also a good follower: one who responds to his partner, allows her to express herself and finish her intentions. But I'm curious by this idea of a great leader being one who dances with his partner as if she's the only one in the room.

When I used to dance lindy hop, there was a certain leader who made every follower swoon. After noticing his magical charm on all the women, I asked some of the followers, "What is it about this guy?" And they all said the same thing: "He dances with you as if you're the only one in the room." They all knew that he did this with all the women, working his way around the room with equal flirtation for them all. Still, they loved dancing with him because for those few minutes, they experienced that feeling for themselves.

Then I think about competitive swing dancing, which is so much about showing off yourself, flirting with the audience, acknowledging that your partner is just one of many in the room. Most competitors win with this outward audience-focused energy, while few can draw people in with a partnership-focused energy. Angel and Debbie Figueroa's "Sometimes" routine is an excellent example of how two partners can be so into each other, as if they were the only two in the room, that to watch is so captivating. In fact, it's almost uncomfortable, as if you shouldn't be watching such an intimate dance between two people. Personally, I think that kind of dancing is a real art, but few can master it, and few try.

But what about the social dance floor? How often do we really invest all of our attention and focus into our partner? How often do we treat our partner like he or she is the only person in the room? How easily are we distracted by our own issues, our dance "homework" and the many people around us? And if connecting with a partner is the ultimate goal, shouldn't every dance have some of that partnership-focused intimacy?

Have you ever experienced the feeling of a partner treating you like you were the only person in the room? What was it like? And how do you think we we create that more often? Would you rather see an intimate routine or an audience-mugging one? Which would you say is "better" dancing?

Looks aren't everything... right?

Ever notice how good looking people tend to become better dancers faster? Or maybe it's that better dancers are just better looking?

Could be just me, but it seems like young, attractive people move up the ranks pretty quickly - more quickly than others, sometimes more quickly than perhaps they should. Sure, there happen to be a lot of young, attractive dancers with a lot of talent, but it still raises some questions about how someone gets better and at what rate.

One could argue that attractive people get better faster because more people ask them to dance. Or maybe they have more confidence and thus are willing to take risks and try new things and become more expressive. Maybe they gain more confidence as they improve, and their confidence is what makes them seem more attractive. Or maybe as they get better they adopt the fashion trends and dress themselves better. Or maybe they just look better or our eyes are drawn to watching them simply because they are more attractive.

The flip side is that people who are better dancers may just be more attractive. A study was done demonstrating just that, and how dancing can be used as a demonstration of genetic fitness, helping us to choose a mate. So maybe the better you are, the more attractive you seem. The pros all seem to be pretty good looking, but maybe we just think that because of their dancing. Would the pros be as attractive if it weren't for the way they can move?

In competition, looks can certainly play a factor: how you dress, how you present yourself, your attitude, your level of confidence - all of which can also make you more or less attractive. Studies have shown that the part of the brain that ultimately makes decisions is the primitive brain, the part that makes decisions based on primal needs related to survival. We know that while judging is based on certain criteria, there is also a high degree of intuition and emotion that goes into deciding what's good dancing and what's not. So despite our rational thoughts about technique and artistry, are judges letting their primal interests sway their judgment? Are judges ultimately making decisions based on their primal desire to procreate? The pretty ones get chosen because we would like to mate with them? What about judges who are the same sex as those they are judging? Are they also judging based on primal instincts, but making decisions not out of a desire to procreate but based on a fear of competition? The pretty ones are competition for mates, so they should be punished/eliminated? And if both forces are at work, shouldn't they balance out so that attractive people do no better or worse than less attractive people?

Thinking about the last competition I went to, it's probably just an illusion. If physical attractiveness were objectively measured, there's probably just as many unattractive people in any division as attractive ones. Still, in a world as social as that of the social dances, attractiveness is likely to play as strong a role as it does in the rest of society. The "halo effect" is a cognitive bias whereby the perception of some positive quality (like attractiveness) gives rise to the perception of similar positive qualities. In this case, people who are attractive may be perceived to be "better" or more qualified than they actually are. Is this same principle being applied to dance? To what extent? What can or should be done about it, or is this just part of the world we live and dance in?

New Year's Resolutions

It's that time of year: time to think about what we hope to achieve by this time next year.

I've had dance resolutions before, some I've met and others I haven't. They are all personal goals and they are all personal goals related to competition: making finals in my division, placing in the top three, moving out of a division, etc.

When making New Year's resolutions, it helps to have "SMART" goals: specific, measurable, attainable, realistic, and time-bound. I mean, I can say I want to be a world champion in three months, but odds are that's a foolish resolution that will not be achieved. So we strive to set some goals for ourselves that can be met, that can be measured, and that can be achieved within a year's time.

Which is why, I suppose, I set my goals based on competition. It's hard for me to say, "I'll be better at whips" or "Add more level changes to my dancing." I suppose I could find an objective way to measure that (tape my dancing and record the number of "good" whips or level changes) but in many ways these goals remain subjective and/or difficult to measure. Competition, however, provides concrete measurements of my progress. Or does it?

Competition itself is subjective, and there's a danger in judging our own dancing based on such an arena. Competition is another animal altogether, separate from social dancing, with a particular required skill set and its own set of values, all based solely on how you look. Does it provide some benchmarks? Sure. Do we aspire to be better competitors? Perhaps. Should competition be our only goals? I hope not.

Some people set specific goals like, "Be able to do 3 finger spins in a row," which is specific, measurable, and perhaps realistic. But do these skills alone capture what we hope to be as dancers? I mean, what about feeling good? What about making our partners feel good? What about being better leaders or followers or being better at covering mistakes and making the dance work? What about being nicer, on the floor and off? What about fostering a greater sense of community, helping newcomers and reaching out to people we don't know?

I offer this challenge: make resolutions for 2010, but keep in mind what kind of dancer you want to be and what kind of dance you want to create.

For me, sure, I want to be more expressive, I want to dance more through my patterns, I want to play with level changes, I'd like to discover some new "wow" moves, and, for goodness' sake, I want to make finals in California some day. But I also want to dance with someone new (or someone I haven't danced with in the last month) every time I go out, I want to dance with more newcomers, I want to dance with more people from different cities when I'm at events, and I want to make my partner smile at least once during each and every dance.

What are your dance resolutions for 2010?