If you are a dancer, then you
know thaat some dances stay with you forever. In social dance, they come
completely randomly when to people who dance with eachother occasionally
suddenly click and for the duration of a song enter into their own world where
two near strangers fuse into one consciousness. I hope that in their lives
everyone would have the delight to experience such intimacy, such ecstasy. For
me there have been three such dances, and I will tell you of them.
The first one actually
happened at my old high school, at the swing dance club. During that time the
leadership had started introducing more slow tunes to the usual repertoire in
order to force the little ones to actually feel what they were doing in detail, thus making them realize that they kinda suck.
This dance was to the tune of the Pink Panther theme by Henri Mancini. It started with a funny sort of invitation. None of that "May I have this dance?" nonsense. No. He lassoed me. We caught eachothers eye, and he started swinging a pretend lasso rope above his head, and then lassoed me. I played along. And the dance that followed was very extraordinary. He had become a decent lead by that time, and knowing nothing of blues, we danced blues. It was very musical, mostly to the melody of the saxophones, with dips, and long turns during which I was in control. He was indeed one of those leads who were not afraid to look me in the eye. I'm quite certain our gazes were very intense. It was free form dance, stepping with the melody rather than the beat, imaginative in the tiny nuances that you usually never notice, tense, filled with subdued energy. Masses of it. Beautiful. And saturated with joy. After it ended, we broke our stare, and the most gigantic smiles spread across our faces, and the tension found an outlet. We celebrated that moment. That song. That dance. From that moment on, whenever pink panther played we sought each other out every time, hoping to repeat that dance. But you can never repeat a moment once it's passed, only cherish its memory.
The second one happened towards the end of a PSU swing dance club meeting. It was one of those rare occasions when the great god of SCAHS swing (and by that I mean the founder of the cswing dance club at my high school) visited. And as luck would have it, one of SCAHS favorite songs, bu our favorite artist started playing. Michael Buble's Fever. This dance is one of the best I've ever danced with, and one of the most forceful ones. When he gives a lead, you have no choice but to be led wherever he desires. He has the ability to bend you down during a side by side Charleston and you'll actually do it, and it'll look good, even if you have no idea what in the world you're doing. I distinctly remember an instance when he led a jump, and I realized that I had jumped by the impact of landing. That's how awesome he is. The song is one of those where you know every single note, and the precise timing of every accent and drum beat. Where you know every melody of every instrument, and you've danced to it a thousand times a thousand different ways. And you can do a thousand more and never get bored, or repeat the feeling you get. This dance was extraordinary. It was so very dynamic. He clearly experimented with moves. A dip where I free fall backward only to be caught by him, and deep standard dips, jumps that were perfectly in time with the music. So perfect that it sends currents of exhilaration down your spine.Anyone looking at us from the side would not have believed that it wasn't choreographed. Such ease and complexity and variation. Infinite variation. I doubt that we repeated any moves for the duration of the song. There were many subtle style changes as the music changed. Perfect. It was indeed perfect.
The third dance also happened at PSU swing. This was my last dance at PSU swing. And as it later turned out my second to last dance with this particular lead. We met again at an Arts Fest concert, and danced a few times. But they didn't compare. Nothing compares to that dance.I walked up to him and asked him for a dance, and he spent quite some time choosing a song. He picked a very smooth blues tune with many variations. you know, the kinds of blues tune that is slow and quiet, yet holds within itself infinite energy. Quite frankly I remember very little of the song, neither the melody, language, or anything else. That was the intensity of our dance, it was all consuming. I danced with my eyes closed as had by then become my custom. I could only hear the music, and feel his leads, and my own motion. His style is heavy set, but clear, and his leads insistent, though never forceful. I could almost feel his fascination during the dance. It was amazing. At one point he completely broke contact. I was blind, and he had sent me spinning away from him quite quickly. I had no idea where the walls were. I spun. And spun. And spun, added flourishes. Then when my mind began to regain its bearings, to wonder where my guide was, and thoughts of smashing into a wall flashed though my mind, he returned with a lindy swing out. Ah! Brilliance! Complete freedom in total submission and trust. Unique. Eventually, the music ended, leaving us both breathless and reluctant, for we were both leaving the swing dance club forever. But we smiled, knowing that our dance was one we'll always remember not only because it was the last, but because it was one of the best.
Ever since I left State College the dances have been at best satisfactory, but usually somewhat disappointing. There is no blues dance, here nor swing. Only a few lovers of hustle which is way too latino for my taste. I haven't felt that magical connection with my partner, where you lay your souls bare and are free for a short while, and true.
The second one happened towards the end of a PSU swing dance club meeting. It was one of those rare occasions when the great god of SCAHS swing (and by that I mean the founder of the cswing dance club at my high school) visited. And as luck would have it, one of SCAHS favorite songs, bu our favorite artist started playing. Michael Buble's Fever. This dance is one of the best I've ever danced with, and one of the most forceful ones. When he gives a lead, you have no choice but to be led wherever he desires. He has the ability to bend you down during a side by side Charleston and you'll actually do it, and it'll look good, even if you have no idea what in the world you're doing. I distinctly remember an instance when he led a jump, and I realized that I had jumped by the impact of landing. That's how awesome he is. The song is one of those where you know every single note, and the precise timing of every accent and drum beat. Where you know every melody of every instrument, and you've danced to it a thousand times a thousand different ways. And you can do a thousand more and never get bored, or repeat the feeling you get. This dance was extraordinary. It was so very dynamic. He clearly experimented with moves. A dip where I free fall backward only to be caught by him, and deep standard dips, jumps that were perfectly in time with the music. So perfect that it sends currents of exhilaration down your spine.Anyone looking at us from the side would not have believed that it wasn't choreographed. Such ease and complexity and variation. Infinite variation. I doubt that we repeated any moves for the duration of the song. There were many subtle style changes as the music changed. Perfect. It was indeed perfect.
The third dance also happened at PSU swing. This was my last dance at PSU swing. And as it later turned out my second to last dance with this particular lead. We met again at an Arts Fest concert, and danced a few times. But they didn't compare. Nothing compares to that dance.I walked up to him and asked him for a dance, and he spent quite some time choosing a song. He picked a very smooth blues tune with many variations. you know, the kinds of blues tune that is slow and quiet, yet holds within itself infinite energy. Quite frankly I remember very little of the song, neither the melody, language, or anything else. That was the intensity of our dance, it was all consuming. I danced with my eyes closed as had by then become my custom. I could only hear the music, and feel his leads, and my own motion. His style is heavy set, but clear, and his leads insistent, though never forceful. I could almost feel his fascination during the dance. It was amazing. At one point he completely broke contact. I was blind, and he had sent me spinning away from him quite quickly. I had no idea where the walls were. I spun. And spun. And spun, added flourishes. Then when my mind began to regain its bearings, to wonder where my guide was, and thoughts of smashing into a wall flashed though my mind, he returned with a lindy swing out. Ah! Brilliance! Complete freedom in total submission and trust. Unique. Eventually, the music ended, leaving us both breathless and reluctant, for we were both leaving the swing dance club forever. But we smiled, knowing that our dance was one we'll always remember not only because it was the last, but because it was one of the best.
Ever since I left State College the dances have been at best satisfactory, but usually somewhat disappointing. There is no blues dance, here nor swing. Only a few lovers of hustle which is way too latino for my taste. I haven't felt that magical connection with my partner, where you lay your souls bare and are free for a short while, and true.
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