Recently, thanks to the prodding of an old friend from Luther, I've started going swing dancing. For those of you not familiar with my long and storied history, during my later high school and college years, I was quite into swing dancing. Not only did I go nearly every Thursday night when in the Cities, I went to swing club as much as possible when at school. I guess the pressures of senior year, coupled with the lack of adequate dance partners, kind of left me to drift away. Consequently, up until two weeks ago, I probably hadn't gone swing dancing in nearly 2 years.
But, like I intimated, thanks to the initiative of a friend, I've started going again. So every Thursday night, I spend about 5 hours at the Tapestry Folkdance Center in south Minneapolis, taking some group lessons, and then sticking around for the actual dance, which starts at 10. And I must say, it's been revelatory. I think I just forgot how much fun I had doing this.
I've been trying to think what the appeal of swing dancing is. To some extent, it has to be escapism, evidenced by the cast of characters who show up at the Tapestry every Thursday night dressed to the nines in their 1940's style outfits and zoot suits. And I suppose, I can relate to that, since I used to do the same thing. I think it's hard to listen to Sinatra and not feel a twinge of nostalgia for time past. It's hard to watch old swing videos and not come to the conclusion that those dancers of ages past weren't born in baggy dress pants or little black dresses. I guess if the physical act of dressing up helps you connect with the music, that's all fine and dandy. But as it seems to me, the observer, the contemporary manifestation is mostly an act. The folks most likely to don a zoot suit are the same folks who determine they need to either impress others, or convince themselves to be impressed.
At its heart though, I really do think swing dancing, maybe all social dance in general, is about impressing others. Maybe I shouldn't be so hard on the masses of university students in the suspenders. Maybe, in some misguided way, they get it.
Think about it. As the lead, men have the equal parts horrifying and exhilarating task of guiding the woman around the dance floor. It's our job to make the woman look good, with the hope that it will make us look good in general. And if you're with a particular partner, I'd imagine, the hope that the partner will think you look good.
Women like to dance with impressive men, whilst men seek out particularly adept women. And I think this is incredibly intimidating with swing, because like the music, it is an expressly improvisational activity. Moreso than other social dances, there is a flexibility to swing which allows any number of moves, combinations, or ideas to be expressed in a very visceral way. And I like to think, if you appreciate the nexus of both the music and dance as being indicative of a certain history and mindset, the expression is necessarily expressly emotional. That's the most important part.
There's one man in particular, who I love to watch dance. His name is Allen, I think, and he has to be somewhere around 75. He definitely looks like he could be one of the "greatest generation," and he dances like he's been literally infused with the music for his entire life. Which I think probably, is actually true. Anyways, he's kind of a nerdy looking dude; he always wears this newsboy cap, and he's always got one of those old person type shirts on. I think last week, he had a button up shirt with a bunch of 1950's style woodies with surfboards on them. But aside from that, whenever he's out swing dancing, it looks like there is nothing else he would rather be doing. And he is good. Not in any sort of flashy, "holy-shit-did-you-see-him-fling-that-girl" kind of way. But just from the way he smiles, how he moves, you know he gets it. I don't know how better to describe it. I think when you consider how this man has probably grown up with this music, he probably has it etched note for note in his bones, you can probably understand a bit of what I'm saying. I have this image of the guy, 60-odd years ago, doing the same stuff at some Army dance. Like you see in the movies.
Anyways, this was a wildly existential post. I didn't intend for it to go that direction, but I guess it happens. In any event, can't wait for Thursday.
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