Last week I participated in a wonderful week-long ballroom dance holiday called Waltz Week in Vienna which culminated in the chance to attend two authentic Viennese balls. As a Stanford undergraduate I attended the Viennese Ball put on by students there, but at the time I did not really know the history and tradition associated with balls in Vienna. Hundreds of elegant balls are thrown in the city of Vienna during the fasching season between November and February. The Viennese waltz is quite fast (180 beats per minute) and consists of continuous spins, and it was popularized during the 18th and 19th centuries thanks to the Strauss family of composers. It is still customary for young people to take social dance lessons. I can't describe how amazing an experience it is to attend a ball in the ridiculously beautiful Hofburg Imperial Palace and dance to live bands and orchestras. Attending the ball with a very seasoned dancer was a dream come true. He navigated me safely through the crowded dance floor and when we waltzed it was like flying (in fact, he is a pilot). Literally the room was spinning and I liked it that way!
I am pleased to have finally taken my social dancing to a new level. I've been on a lifelong journey through many different styles of dance, and while I enjoy them all, I have to admit that there is something uniquely special about social dancing. By social dancing I mean dancing with a partner without choreography, where there is a leader and a follower, regardless of the type of dance or music. I have reached nirvana in social dancing and I describe it thusly: When both partners have attained a level of dancing in which they no longer need to think about the counts or the steps, and they can just interpret the music using their bodies, something magical happens.
I think it's beautiful that two people who might be complete strangers, without speaking a word, through three points of contact can create an ephemeral work of art out of thin air. We are pattern-matching beings, and when the movement through space matches the music we hear, it just feels right in the soul. When the pauses, hesitations, or hits of the music are echoed in the kicks, poses, or leans of the dancers, you can't help but smile. When as a follower you can trust your leader enough to flow with him, match him in mood and intensity, manipulating your weight and centrifugal force in just the right manner that you feel like one body gliding through time and space at velocity, changing directions without friction or loss of energy, it's just plain awesome. Part of the beauty is that it's all novel and unexpected. With a good leader, you can do a step you've never seen before, and be pleasantly surprised. The leader, while they have in mind what step they plan to lead next, must also be ready at any moment for a change of plans-- be it a missed hand connection, an obstacle on the dance floor, or a follower's embellishment. I have nothing but admiration for skilled leaders, who are literally always thinking on their feet.
On one hand dancing is complicated, but on the other I feel people get too tense and over-think dancing. Dancing is just walking, with style. It's fun-walking. Just put yourself in the mood of the music and walk in rhythm with it. If it's bouncy, you bounce. If it's sensual and sexy, you move your hips and glide smoothly. If it's elegant and graceful, you lean and sway with it. Perhaps it feels natural to me because I have so many years of dance experience behind me.
When I was in high school my parents started ballroom dancing with their Filipino friends. They dragged me along and I learned the basics of rumba, cha-cha, waltz, and swing. They had great fun learning choreographies and going on cruises with their buddies. Although I found it kind of fun, it did not call to me. At the time ballroom dancing seemed slightly tacky; a world of fake tans, excessive makeup, overly expressive faces, and loads of sequins. It was something old people did to bad elevator music. The focus of instruction was way too much on the steps, and not enough on the connection and the art of partnering. When one is dancing with not-very-skilled partners, be they overly jerky and painfully wrenching, or confusingly soft and indecisive, it is hard to feel confident and have fun as a dancer. But we all start somewhere.
Mom and dad
My senior year of college I ventured into my first salsa club in Washington, D.C. I couldn't communicate with the Latino guy who pulled me on the floor, but I knew that I liked whatever I was doing and the music made me want to move. Salsa started becoming popular in the San Francisco Bay Area in the early 1990s, and my first date with my future husband was indeed at Alberto's Night Club in Mountain View, CA. However I was too busy starting my teaching career, falling in love, and getting married to venture into the Bay Area salsa scene until my 27th birthday when I had a salsa party and invited Los Salseros de Stanford to perform and give a lesson. That lead to my joining the group, despite the fact that I was many years out of school, and there I learned the basics of Los Angeles style salsa "on the one". I was just about to get serious about salsa when I got pregnant with my daughter. She danced inside me up through her third month of gestation, but then my dance career was railroaded yet again.
Seven years later, with two kids out of diapers, I decided to try again. I performed with Montuno Dance Company at the San Francisco Salsa Congress and learned just how hard it is to perform fast-paced, complex salsa choreography. Click here to see video (I have short hair and am on the left side of the screen.)
I really had a lot to learn, especially how to improve my following technique. I was thinking too much and had tense arms which made it hard for leaders to execute complicated pretzel-type moves quickly. I tried too hard to anticipate the moves instead of letting myself react to the signals of the partner. This made me anxious and it wasn't really fun. Choreography, although sometimes tedious to practice over and over, was still comforting because I knew what to expect and could rely on my memory and the counts. I thought of it more as a performance than a social dance. But it was fantastic to meet other salsa-obsessed dancers and have familiar faces to dance with.
As I became more confident as a social dancer, I became able to express own individuality within the constraints of being a follower. Head rolls, ribcage pops, shoulder shimmies, body waves, hip rolls, and footwork became tools in my toolkit, a physical vocabulary. While some leaders just want to be a puppet master and have the follower under his complete control, the best dancers enjoy and give room for improvisation, for some playful movement banter. I also learned that I am a better follower after I've had a drink, which helps me to relax and calm the overactive and controlling part of my brain, letting the creative and instinctual part take over.
At that point I decided to learn to dance salsa in the Cuban or New York style, which is "on the two". I joined the Mambo Romero Dance Company and it was quite a challenge learning the new timing and different patterns while trying to execute Gabriel Romero's intricate choreography. I have so much respect and admiration for the dedication and skill of my fellow dancers, and the bonds of camaraderie we forged together in the many hours of rehearsal and late nights out dancing are treasured memories. I loved the Cha-cha routine I had the privilege to perform (short hair, on the right).
Meanwhile I tried pole dancing, taught Zumba and Hula dancing at the YMCA in Palo Alto, and enjoyed making my own choreographies. Hula done well is serene, graceful and elegant, yet really grounded.
I've also fallen in love with the sensuality and playfulness of Bachata. My friend John York is a fantastic dancer and we did a workshop together at the Hawaii Salsa Congress a few years ago.
Along the way I attended one of Richard Powers' Waltz Weekends at Stanford, which opened my eyes to cross-step waltz, the world of Gaskell Balls and Dickens Fairs, and kept the spirit of ballroom dancing alive.
Since I've been here in Spain I have put in serious effort studying flamenco, and that tap dancing I did 30 years ago is still there in my brain! Flamenco is powerful, intense and rhythmically complicated. It demands pain and suffering, and complete concentration.
Even though every dance form is different, what I feel they have in common is core muscle control. Ever since I discovered my latissimus dorsi muscles doing pole dancing, I have realized how they stabilize my core and allow each part to move separately and dynamically yet in a controlled and balanced manner. They also maintain a beautiful posture with a long neck and proud chest. I am a serious lat evangelist.
I'm glad that there are so many types of dance still left to explore, like Tahitian, Samba, West Coast Swing, Argentine Tango, and Zouk. I hope to be only halfway through my life at this point, and plan to keep dancing until I take my last breath. I guess you could call me an addict, because I do get high on dancing. But I am not the only one. One night I was out dancing and some random guy asked, "Are you Nerissa? Six years ago I went to your salsa birthday party and tried it for the first time. Since then I have been dancing almost every night. I want to thank you for introducing me to salsa, which has really enriched my life." He had truly gone from a zero to hero dancer, and I am thrilled to have passed my love of dance on to someone. After the dreamy week I spent in Vienna, I have decided to do more social dancing because I tell ya, sometimes sparks fly.
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