Issue of
September 10, 1997

Learning Curve: Social Dance Forms
of North America
The same class through the eyes of the teacher
and a student

The student: Angela Renae Amarillas

As soon as I arrived on the Farm in the fall of 1993, I eagerly enrolled in as many dance division classes as I could fit into my pre-med schedule. In addition to taking ballet and modern dance, I decided to expand my dance world with a class called Social Dance Forms of North America with Richard Powers. I did not realize it then, but this would mark the beginning of a transformation in the way I think about and experience dance as movement, and dance as a way of life.

I have to admit that it wasn't exactly love at first sight for social dancing and me. This couple dancing stuff just did not feel quite right to my classically trained body. Ballet had ingrained in me a very developed sense for my own center of balance, and I was used to being solely responsible for making my movements happen. After the first few truly terrifying attempts at what was supposed to be a polka, I quickly figured out that social dance doesn't work that way. I had to reset my balance to share a new center-point with another body attached to mine and learn a thing or two about following a lead. I remember wondering if, how and when I would actually float, not fumble, through a fox trot. I was motivated by the challenge and decided to stick with it.

For a couple of hours a week, Richard invited the class to explore the non-linear, kinesthetic, simultaneous, intuitive aspects of ourselves. Combined with his insights into the historical and philosophical backgrounds of the dances he taught, this Zen approach to understanding movement engaged me not only physically, but intellectually and even spiritually. For me, it was an amazing process of integrating body, mind and soul.

By the end of the quarter I could spin a waltz, swing to all kinds of interesting music, survive a hyper-speed polka and do a little tango. Since then my passion for and commitment to social dance has profoundly enriched my time at Stanford. Soon after taking the class I joined the Stanford Vintage Dance Ensemble, a 19th-century and ragtime social dance performance troupe. Because the focus in Richard's classes is on the simpler steps, performing satisfies my cravings for the more challenging and difficult variations. Now, as Richard's partner in his classes at Stanford and at workshops in exciting places such as New York, Seattle and Paris, I have a fuller appreciation for how other people learn and experience dancing.

The course cultivated a balance between the focused consciousness required for technically complex ballet or flamenco movements and the diffuse awareness of my place in time and space that enhances the intuitive connection between my partner and me. And I discovered that sometimes, as in waltzing, these dances have the potential to literally spin us into another world. Social Dance Forms of North America offered more than just a new set of steps to add to my repertoire; it introduced me to an alternate way of experiencing my dancing self.

The teacher: Richard Powers

Susie Cashion, senior lecturer in the dance division, hired me thinking that Stanford's program was gaining a dance historian who specialized in Victorian social dance, my principal focus at the time. I thought the same. Neither of us would have guessed that within five years I would be spending most of my time studying history in the making. My colleagues in historic dance would probably be surprised to see the newer material that we are now covering, such as street swing. They might also wonder why I allow, and even encourage, my students to dance current vernacular forms to alternative, techno and world music. The classes I teach cover traditional couple dances, such as waltz, tango, salsa and swing. Yes, this is ballroom dance, in the most general sense, but not strictly ballroom as seen on televised international ballroom championships. The International Style of dance is actually British, founded in 1904 and overseen by the Imperial Society for the fraternal safeguarding of the mutual interests of properly qualified teachers of dancing in the British Empire.

Americans, on the other hand, seem more intent on bending the rules than adhering to them. But this emphasis on creative personal expression has not always been a characteristic of American social dance. Until a century ago, we emulated the European prototype and did our best to dance and dress in the styles of Paris and London. We were painfully aware that Europeans considered us rough-hewn and socially unskilled.

This changed at the beginning of this century, with a prevailing American sentiment to make a clean break with the past and be progressive. The lore of American pioneers, with their independence and freedom, was popular at that time. Ragtime music of rural African Americans was rapidly gaining a wide audience. We grew less embarrassed about our differences from European culture and increasingly proud of our uniqueness. We also began to feel comfortable with our identity as a melting pot of diverse cultural influences, and American music and dance became a synthesis of European, African and Latin influences.

This American tradition is still alive today. Students soon discover that traditional dance does not necessarily mean old because traditions continue to evolve. My classes begin with a thorough survey of ways that Americans have danced in past generations (students have to master the basics before they can improvise); then I encourage them to continue the tradition of innovation themselves. To merely collect the steps created by others, perhaps by learning a swing step that Frankie Manning invented in 1936, is missing the point. The way to capture the authentic spirit of American vernacular dance is to participate in its ongoing evolution. To truly learn from Frankie Manning's example, one must emulate his creative process, not just his steps. American dance, whether it is social or theatrical, is innovative. It is multicultural in its influences. Creativity and crossover are its trademarks.

These concepts extend to the music we dance to as well. Music is the most vital link between ballroom dance traditions and the personal affinities of young people. I try to preserve the benefits of social dancing while providing a way for students to relate physically to their music; or conversely, their music makes social dance relevant to their lives. The popularity of my classes as well as the monthly "Jammix" dances demonstrates the importance of this connection. The Jammix dances, originally designed to provide practice sessions for students, have taken on a life of their own. The music ranges from very traditional to experimental and multicultural, usually with a strong dose of good humor. Students dance swing, waltz, salsa, tango, cha-cha, twist, trash disco, punk polka, retro seventies, hiphop, country/western, hustle, rumba, blues and more. We even do an acid rock version of the Hokey Pokey.

I am especially delighted to see students doing several different genres of dance to any given piece of music. They are clearly responding spontaneously to their own interpretations of the music and to their partners, rather than trying to conform to someone else's tastes.

The study of vernacular dance traditions is not uncommon within academia, but other university dance departments tend to focus on vernacular dances from foreign cultures or historical eras. Stanford's support of the study of rapidly evolving contemporary American social dance traditions is rare and inspired. SR