Returning to the dance floor.
Apr. 29th, 2008 11:49 amI went English Country Dancing[1] last night, for probably the second or third time since Alex was born.
I was surprised to see how much I remembered. All of it, really. Not necessarily the steps of the individual dances, of course, although many of them felt deeply familiar. But I found that I effortlessly remembered how to form the figures, and was free to focus on satsifying extras like making sure that my movements were precisely the right size to carry me through the alloted beats of music.
I love to lose myself in the patterns of ECD. I was particularly aware of that last night, coming back after a long absence. Nearly all of the dancers present last night were highly skilled, which meant dressed sets, symmetrical movements, and attention to rhythm and flow. Every figure fell beautifully into place, bodies weaving in and out with confident precision. My attention might, at a given moment, be locked on my partner - perhaps turning in a circle with her, our only connection steady eye contact - but at the same time I was aware that our actions were being mirrored all up and down the set.
The first dance after I arrived, Sun Assembly,[2] has a moment when you take right hands across with the couple below you so that your joined arms form an X, wheel around in a circle, and then join left hands across with the couple above you in the set and circle in the opposite direction. This is all one long fluid motion. You circle around. Just as you reach the crest of the circle, the music cues you to reach your left hand out, and someone is there. You grasp their hand, keep stepping forward, and another hand reaches out at precisely the moment when your partner reaches the crest of the circle. Everyone is in whirling motion. Everyone is part of the pattern, and the pattern unfolds with mathematical beauty. You are at once an individual, one of a pair, and part of a whole. The pattern repeats, musically and physically, as you move up and down the set with your partner. It almost feels like ritual to me, like spiritual practice.
There's a sense of rightness about it, to me - falling into position, reaching out my hand, having the other's hand in place to take it - a sense of intense, almost painful satisfaction. There. There. There. I'm reminded that humans are pattern-seeking animals. This is partly what my brain is wired for.
(Hey,
madrobin: more than three years later, Laura and Neil still dance only with each other. Do you think, in all this time, that anyone has ever explained dance etiquette to them?)
[1] ECD is the kind of dancing you see in movie adaptations of Jane Austen. Most dances were written in the 17th or 18th century (althouugh ECD is also a living art; people are still writing dances today) and are performed by long sets of couples. Here's a lovely demonstration set by skilled dancers in period costume. Here is a fine example of a casual event where dances are taught and called.
[2] Whoa, I just made a crazy discovery: this webpage which attempts to map out the dance using tables. No, seriously. To get the full effect, hit the "sync" button and watch the steps progress to music, but you can also advance through the dance manually, step by step, and see precisely where the dancers ought to be standing during bar 7, beat 13 of the A section. This will not help you to understand the dance unless you are an ECD expert, but geekiness is a deeply beautiful thing in and of itself.
I was surprised to see how much I remembered. All of it, really. Not necessarily the steps of the individual dances, of course, although many of them felt deeply familiar. But I found that I effortlessly remembered how to form the figures, and was free to focus on satsifying extras like making sure that my movements were precisely the right size to carry me through the alloted beats of music.
I love to lose myself in the patterns of ECD. I was particularly aware of that last night, coming back after a long absence. Nearly all of the dancers present last night were highly skilled, which meant dressed sets, symmetrical movements, and attention to rhythm and flow. Every figure fell beautifully into place, bodies weaving in and out with confident precision. My attention might, at a given moment, be locked on my partner - perhaps turning in a circle with her, our only connection steady eye contact - but at the same time I was aware that our actions were being mirrored all up and down the set.
The first dance after I arrived, Sun Assembly,[2] has a moment when you take right hands across with the couple below you so that your joined arms form an X, wheel around in a circle, and then join left hands across with the couple above you in the set and circle in the opposite direction. This is all one long fluid motion. You circle around. Just as you reach the crest of the circle, the music cues you to reach your left hand out, and someone is there. You grasp their hand, keep stepping forward, and another hand reaches out at precisely the moment when your partner reaches the crest of the circle. Everyone is in whirling motion. Everyone is part of the pattern, and the pattern unfolds with mathematical beauty. You are at once an individual, one of a pair, and part of a whole. The pattern repeats, musically and physically, as you move up and down the set with your partner. It almost feels like ritual to me, like spiritual practice.
There's a sense of rightness about it, to me - falling into position, reaching out my hand, having the other's hand in place to take it - a sense of intense, almost painful satisfaction. There. There. There. I'm reminded that humans are pattern-seeking animals. This is partly what my brain is wired for.
(Hey,
[1] ECD is the kind of dancing you see in movie adaptations of Jane Austen. Most dances were written in the 17th or 18th century (althouugh ECD is also a living art; people are still writing dances today) and are performed by long sets of couples. Here's a lovely demonstration set by skilled dancers in period costume. Here is a fine example of a casual event where dances are taught and called.
[2] Whoa, I just made a crazy discovery: this webpage which attempts to map out the dance using tables. No, seriously. To get the full effect, hit the "sync" button and watch the steps progress to music, but you can also advance through the dance manually, step by step, and see precisely where the dancers ought to be standing during bar 7, beat 13 of the A section. This will not help you to understand the dance unless you are an ECD expert, but geekiness is a deeply beautiful thing in and of itself.
no subject
Date: 2008-04-29 03:59 pm (UTC)As for Laura and Neil, they've often heard the callers suggest that people switch partners after each set. They simply ignore that and continue as they always have.
no subject
Date: 2008-04-29 04:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-04-29 04:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-04-29 05:41 pm (UTC)In my local dance community, his arrangement with his wife would be kind of rude, but not earthshatteringly so. But given the arrangement as it stood, the polite thing to have said to you would have been: "I'm sorry, I think I may have promised this next dance to my wife. Perhaps I could find you later?"
If he wasn't sure whether or not he was committed, he - not you - should've been the one to bear the risk of not having a partner. Keeping you on the string while he checked with her - and how do you forget where you are in a two-item rotation? - was inexcusable.
no subject
Date: 2008-04-29 06:09 pm (UTC)Every year we did a t-shirt, and the t-shirt one year has the steps to a very simple set dance drawn out in a diagram, along with the words, "You're doing all the right steps. Stop looking so confused!" (An actual quote said that year.)
(There's also a t-shirt that shows a boy in a skirt dancing with a girl, also in a skirt, and the tag-line, "Soooooo, is everyone happy with their current gender?")
no subject
Date: 2008-04-29 06:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-04-30 02:53 am (UTC)*happy sigh*
no subject
Date: 2008-04-30 04:34 am (UTC)Thanks, Marilee
Date: 2008-04-30 10:38 am (UTC)FWIW, historically, Laura & Neil would have been considered somewhat rude (or at least selfish) as well.
Susan
(from Kickery)
Re: Thanks, Marilee
Date: 2008-04-30 07:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-04-30 08:50 pm (UTC)