We had a class on rhythm last week and to say the least it was challenging to everyone who took it. Since we've been ramping up the difficulty over the last month I promise that we'll go back to basics next Thursday!
As it occurred to me, we had discussed how rhythm is felt before it is heard. I'd even mentioned that there were at least a few deaf lindy hoppers and that the ones I have watched were more rhythmic and musical than some would guess.
This afternoon I read an interview on Swungover with Tim Vail. Seems cool and topical to bring it up here!
Here's a short section:
In a sense, dancing should be music made visible, and in that sense it is probably more accessible to deaf people than most people realize. What is really different is we pick it up, and sense it in a different way. In that sense, figuring out how to convey the rhythm to deaf people without relying on hearing (remember a lot of the vibrations can be felt) is probably the only barrier there really is.
I'd recommend reading the whole thing!
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Edited to add:
Here's some footage from the International Lindy Hop Championships!
Everyone please start ravaging youtube to find as many clips as you can!
Here's a reaction to Rebecca Brightly's post at Dance World Takeover: Musicality is Overrated
To me teaching an appreciation of music to dancers is as vital as teaching an appreciation of light to painters.
I remember a night at Denny’s many years ago when a young dancer asked me what he needed to improve. “your moves are nice,” I said “but you need to listen to the music.” Since then he has gone on to be a world-famous instructor and has been lauded for his musicality. To this students I didn’t need to say much. Others need more.
I don’t feel that the phrases “musicality” and “creative vision” are mutually exclusive, though I can imagine some students and teachers approaching these counter-productively. As well I can see the opportunity for synergy in the exploration of both. To sum that up, it may be possible to learn to appreciate music and to dance creatively in a way that fosters something even more powerful.
I’ve seen a musicality class that I could have summed up in one sentence: “don’t use your limbs like percussive instruments.” That’s really not much of a lesson in my opinion. Another musicality class taught musical structures, which I think is more important, especially at the beginning phases of study. The best experience I had as a student was in a hip hop class when the teacher stopped us and forced us to pull the music apart before allowing us to dance again.
Those are just some examples. More are coming.
By the way, I think Dance World Takeover is a really fun blog and am recommending that you read it now.
As I will have to skip the US Open Swing Dancing Championships due to illness, I'd like to take a little time to discuss some of the things we have worked on in class recently.
Two weeks ago, we had an entire class on pulse and smoothness. I'll probably rename that class "Creamy vs. Chunky" or something equally glib in the future. It might have gone over the heads of some of the students, but it's the same content with which I pushed myself and it still inspires me today.
Last week, we discussed music. It appeared that none of the students in class really had developed vocabulary on the subject. When I asked them what a break was, the most prominent reply was "it's a pause in the music." It reminds me of the way folks at the original Memories would all snap to pose on the hit from "See Ya Later, Alligator," by Bill Haley and the Comets!
Honestly, the dancing in this clip is pretty different from what I remember at that club.
At the old Memories, I remember watching from the balcony as the entire room hit the same punch. This was probably the first time period of the turn of the century southern California dancers really understood the concept of a break. It was fun to watch, but I wondered at the time whether everyone would be stuck hitting breaks in that one way forever.
Taking it back to the class last Thursday, I spoke of some different ways to use the music. I remembered the time when I was speaking to one of my math students who expressed that he just didn't understand dancing. This student was a surfer through and through. It came to me in that conversation that a dancer rides the music like a surfer would ride a wave. This seemed to make a visceral connection to that student, but I never saw whether it made an impact on him in the long run.
Then I began to describe the common structures in swing music, taking it back up with Breaks. The way I use it, a break is that last bar of music in a pattern before that pattern can begin again. In See You Later Alligator, this isn't the drum hit at the end of the bar but that whole line: "you say your love for me is true."
Anyway, I may be butchering actual musical vocabulary.
The other image that I used in class was that the structures in music were like Monkey Bars on a school yard. They're there for dancers to play upon.
We did a few exercises around that and then we called it a night.
