Tag: international folk dance

  • Rules of Dance, Rules of Life

    DSC00613aFor the last ten years or so, my husband and I have been folk dancing. We were pulled into it by our younger son, who started folk dancing in high school.

    For those who have never done it, folk dancing is international, both in content and participation. In the years we’ve been dancing, we’ve done dances from Israel, Poland, France, Spain, Mexico, India, Japan, Romania, Italy, England, Scotland, Portugal, Croatia, Bulgaria, the US, and probably several others I’ve forgotten. They’re mostly choreographed, that is, set steps to set pieces of music. But sometimes we’ll do some freestyle swing or tango or waltz. We even once taught an American 4-wall polka dance in the Netherlands. Or rather, my hubby taught while I helped demonstrate the steps.

    Most of what our particular Friday night group does is couple dances. Those dances include the raucous American Maple Leaf Rag and the tender Israeli Metzuit Acharet. We also do set dances for three or four or five couples, or “as many as will” English Country dances and Contras. We do fit in the occasional non-partner dance like the Romanian Te Aven Baxtale (video here). If you’re looking for me in the video, I’m the one with the gray top and white skirt and shoes.

    One recent Friday night, it occurred to me that there are some rules of dance that seem to apply to life as well. Between dances, I started recording the rules that came to me.

    If it’s time to circle, put out your hand and someone will catch it

    When a circle comes up in a dance, you don’t have to look around left and right to find the hands of the people next to you. Just throw out your hands and the other dancers will be there to grab. By the same token, when it’s time to join up with others and do something together, trust that they will bring you in and make you part of the group.

    If your partner throws you, trust that he will catch you

    Some of the couple dances we do are quite lively. They’re generally lead-follow dances, and sometimes the lead will send the follow out in a fast spin. The follow has to trust that the lead won’t send them into outer space, that they will grab hold and bring them close again. In life, sometimes your spouse, or partner, or a friend will suggest you take a chance, something that’s a stretch, but good for you. And they’re going to back you up. Trust that they’ll catch you if you need it.

    Camp 2008 018mA two-step isn’t two steps

    I’ve always thought the two-step was the most oddly named dance step. Because it’s really three steps, a one-two-three in a slow-quick-slow pattern. Life can be like that. Labels aren’t always accurate. They’re not always meant to be taken literally. Sometimes they’re just a name to call something, and it’s best not to get too hung up in what you think the thing should really be called.

    If you don’t know the dance, look for someone who does and follow them

    I’ll do this often when I’m learning a new dance, or decide to join in a simple line dance that I’ve never done before. I just keep an eye on someone a couple places up from me, someone who knows how to do the dance, and I imitate what their feet are doing. In life, there’s always someone to follow. Some folks might be flailing around as much as you are, and if you follow them, you could step on someone’s toes. Instead, look for the one who knows what they’re doing and follow in their footsteps.

    If you can’t run, skip. If you can’t skip, then walk. If you can’t walk, stand and sway

    This is something I learned first hand when I broke a bone in my ankle recently. I couldn’t dance. I certainly couldn’t skip. But I could walk a little, and I could certainly stand and sway. In life, you’ll always have the ability to do something to take part in what’s going on. It might not be as fancy as the next person, but it’s your contribution, and no one else can do it like you.

    Dancing1The music will tell you what to do

    This is kind of an inside joke amongst folk dancers. A dance will come up on the program that we were once taught, but we haven’t done in quite a while. So we turn on the music, and see if our bodies can remember the steps. Sometimes it does work–we hear the music and the steps just come. Other times we fumble and laugh and decide to do the dance another night after checking the notes. But just as in dance, in life it’s good sometimes to just plunge in and see if you can figure it out as you go along. If it flops, at least you made the effort. But maybe you’ll hear the music and know just what to do.

    It’s not the wrong step–it’s a variation

    This is another inside joke of folk dance. Sometimes we’ll forget some part of the dance, so we substitute another step that seems to fit. We justify it by saying, “Well, in some village, somewhere, they might have done it this way.” So if you do something that’s not quite in step with the way everyone else is doing it, that’s just your variation. That’s the way you learned it in your village.

    Everyone gets a chance to be the number one couple

    “Number one couple” is a term used in set dances. The number one couple is usually the one that is the active couple, and is doing all the really fun steps of the set. But what’s cool about set dances is that the number one couple switches around to everyone. So we all get a chance to do those fun, active steps. It can be the same in life–someday, somehow, you will get your chance to be in the limelight. You will get the chance to show off your fancy steps. And everyone will be watching your dance.

  • In My Father’s Footsteps

    There was a book I read when I was maybe 7 or 8 in which the boy character is taking a walk with his father. The boy tries to match his father’s stride, to place his feet right alongside his dad’s. I have a very clear image of taking a walk with my own dad after I read the book and trying to keep pace like the boy did. Of course my shorter legs couldn’t quite keep up.

    As an adult, I turned into a hyper-speed walker. I can’t seem to help myself–I go on a walk with someone and without even meaning to, I’m blasting along at mach-10, leaving most other people in the dust. I think I got it from my late dad, because when he was younger and still robust, we’d take walks together and neither one of us had trouble keeping up with the other. My two sons walk like I do. None of us seem to know how to meander.

    This came to mind the other night as my husband and I were leaving the “dance barn” where we do international folk dance on Friday nights. The “dance barn” is an outbuilding on the 20+ acres of property owned by some friends of ours. The space we dance in is a converted goat barn (no joke), hence the name “dance barn.” And although it’s not exactly out in the middle of nowhere (the freeway is only a couple of miles away), when we turn out the lights, it’s pitch black outside.

    So there I was Friday night with the flashlight, leading my husband through the darkness. Except my legs didn’t know how to keep pace with him. They just kept striding along at my usual mach-10, not only leaving him in the dust, but in the dark as well. I had to keep reminding myself to sl-o-o-o-w down so he could see where he was walking.

    I felt kind of bad about that. But it was a nice memory of my dad, and those long ago walks we used to take.

  • Dance Camp – Last Thoughts & Talent Show

    For some reason, the first few days of dance camp seem to go by more slowly, maybe because there are so many days ahead, it seems to be wonderfully endless. We’ll just keep dancing and dancing, learning new steps and styles, twirling and spinning, grapevining and circling with our friends, old and new-found.

    Then with an unexpected suddenness comes Saturday and we’re near the end. We’ve learned twenty or thirty or even forty new dances, and are charged with taking those pieces of culture back to our “villages,” our own dance groups back home.

    Imagine a time when folk dancing was an everyday experience, when this village or that would have a certain special dance, or several that were passed down from parents to children. They might do the same dance as in another village, but with a twist–two turns instead of one, a grapevine that starts with a forward cross instead of backward. They might travel to another village and bring with them those variations or even entirely new dances. Their unique twist on an integral part of their lives–dancing–would be shared beyond their small world, from one village to the next, down the generations.

    I like to think that those who attend dance camp–this one in Stockton and other camps and workshops around the world–have an opportunity to send out into the world new ways of thinking about things (and not just dance) in the same way that a villager from the past shared with others and thereby shared their culture. As I said in a previous post, if we’d only dance together, we wouldn’t have time to argue, we wouldn’t have time to fight. We’d just dance.

    Here is a video and a few photos from this afternoon’s talent show:

    [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dVFSjC_68vI]

  • Dance Camp – Once-a-Year Friends

    Stockton CA, where Folk Dance Camp takes place, is fairly close to where I live (about an hour-and-a-half drive). That means that many of my local dance community also attend. It’s nice to see at camp the familiar faces of those I dance with on a regular basis. But even more special are the friendships I renew with those who I see only for a week, once a year at camp.

    There are several in particular I feel a special connection to. First, there’s Tony. My first year at camp, my husband couldn’t attend. That left me without a ready partner for the couples dance classes.

    Not only did Tony pair up with me in several classes, he’s such a great dancer that he pulled my fumbling feet through many a tricky step. His wife, Lynn, is a delight too and it’s great to see her at the Saturday party each year.

    Next is Valerie, who started attending Folk Dance Camp the same year as me. She would sometimes partner with me, taking the man’s part so I could learn the ladies part.

    She was such a friendly face for me that first time and it’s really great to see her, if only once a year.

     

     

    Karen (left) and Nila (right) are two more lovely ladies who I renew friendships with each year at Stockton. My connection with Karen is pretty obvious (same first names). But she’s also such a friendly, happy & generous person (obviously a trait of all Karens).

    I haven’t known Nila as long, but she is a love. She’s Thai, but lives in Japan. Since my son lives in Osaka, whenever I see Nila I feel a little bit of a connection to him.

    Last, but certainly not least, are Randi & Murray from New Jersey. First of all they’re great dancers and love folk dance. Second, they’re glad to share their joy of dance. Since they teach folk dance in New Jersey, they can offer tips and assistance when I’m having trouble with a step. Third, they’re hysterically funny. The skit/song they regularly perform at the Saturday night talent show is not to be missed.

    It can be sad saying goodbye to all these folks I only see once a year, but I’m grateful to know them. And if I’m ever in Japan, or New Jersey or Spokane, WA, I know I’ll always have someone to dance with.

  • Dance Camp – Costumes!

     

    The general schedule of classes here is four sessions in the morning from 8am to about 12:30, then lunch, then cultural assembly and workshops from 1:30pm-5pm, then time for dinner (or naps if you haven’t gotten one earlier). Some nights after dinner there are lawn parties with dancing and special activities, then one more class from 7:30pm to 8:30pm. Old Favorites with the live band starts at 8:45pm, then OOL (Once Over Lightly) where we review everything we thought we learned for the day but probably forgot.

    Tuesday has a particularly fun lawn party. It’s Picture Day, so everyone dresses in their most fabulous costumes and everyone takes everyone else’s picture. There’s also an official photographer who takes photos of the various groups. Campers from other countries, campers from back East, campers from Southern California & Northern California. Pictures of the staff/instructors, campers who got scholarships, pictures of the band. The photographer has to stand on a 15-foot ladder to get everyone into the image.

    So I took pictures left and right. Here they are.