Andrew Smith Dance

Just uploaded my photos from the Northwest Blues Recess. Looking over the pictures made me reflect upon the event, prompting me to write down my thoughts.

This event comes at a challenging time in my life. My relationship with Lauren will soon draw to a close, with much uncertainty of whether it would ever resume again. Coming up on the conclusion of an intense, sincere, and rewarding relationship like the one I've shared with Lauren, I find myself feeling a little vulnerable and alone, trying to understand who I will be with her no longer in my life.

It began on an unpleasant note: driving down by myself. With so many people looking for carpooling options, it was a little strange to find myself alone in my car while others were packed in like sardines elsewhere. I knew it was mostly just how the cards fell, but on some level I felt like I was being a lamer and that's why I was by myself.

Friday was no doubt the most difficult part of the weekend. Already not in a state where I could share myself easily to masses of people, I was jarred by the huge number of people at the event, all of them feeling snuggly and wanting to be close. There were a lot of people I didn't know or knew only vaguely from seeing them on the dance floor. I just wanted to be alone or with a few people that I knew well and to spend time with them in a quiet environment. Not exactly mentally prepared for this event, needless to say.

My mood and experience at NWBR improved steadily with time. Saturday was spent outside doing yoga, sitting in the sun, playing games together, and just being chill. Energized by the solar rays and the laid-back vibes of good friends, I was better prepared to go dancing that night.

I make it sound like dancing is a big deal because it is to me, especially with alternative music. A lot of it is emotional, tense, and heart-baring. You have to invest so much of yourself to get something out of it, because you must connect with the pathos of the music. Let's face it, there's a lot of alternative music out there that isn't danceable by any measure other than through facilitating expression and an emotional connection.

Saturday proved to be a magical night. Tucked away in a forest grove, dimly lit with Christmas lights, beautiful textiles hung in the trees, you were whisked away by the experience to another world, one filled with dancers moving barefoot on a clayey surface packed hard with their feet. The music, particularly the inspired grooves of Auditory Sculpture, filled me with the dance spirit in a way that I haven't experience in a long time with alternative music. It was a pleasure to feel it again; I was worried I had lost touch with that side as I have transitioned to a profound love for traditional Blues music.

Sunday afternoon proved to be another relaxing day spent with friends. After much corralling, we organized a group to go to a nearby reservoir for swimming and chilling. Much fun was to be had with many floatation devices and even more people. In line with pretty much the whole weekend, it culminated with us congealing as one giant flotilla/human carpet and drifting in the water.

I didn't think it could get much better until I saw the location for the Sunday evening dance. A small clearing on a tall hill in the rolling terrain of Roseburg, your 30 minute walk from the road was rewarded with an impressive panoramic view. Add in dancers, surrounded by tall grass, and the sun just setting over the nearby ridge, and you have one of the most memorable dances ever. I received the high compliment of being given the closing set at this unique spot. Apparently blessed by the DJ gods, I picked all the right music on the spot to mix the most popular set of the whole weekend. I think the high point was at the beginning, though, when I played the theme to The Boondock Saints, and watched some 80 dancers jumping and running and skipping through the fields and all moving together as one great big community. The song ended with everyone joining in a massive group hug. It actually brought tears to my eyes.

I came into the weekend feeling anxious -- much like a child going to summer camp -- and walking out feeling full of light, friendship, and laughter. By the last night, delirious from food and sleep depravation, drunk on the camaraderie of so many good people, it was hard to believe that this silly, crazy group of people was actually sober. From singing "In The Jungle" at the top of our lungs to me leaving a human voicemail for Orville while he was in the bathroom to schlopping around as an amoeba, these memorable times were a great way to close out the weekend.

Sticking around on Monday to help with cleanup was worthwhile and rewarding. Heard first-hand that I won 1st and 4th place in the DJ contest (whoo!). Got to drive up with Andrew Sutton, which is always a pleasure. We talked over many topics pertaining to dance, teaching, DJing, etc.

Overall, a positive -- albeit initially anxious -- experience. I look forward to Aspen Blues Recess, which will mark a major transition in my life back to graduate school. Who knows what is to come? You definitely can't go into these events with expectations.

I think upon my experience in Austin with mixed emotions. I came there primarily to compete. By my performance, one would think that I'd be proud of my progress: finalist in Ballroomin' with Karissa, 3rd place in Jookin' with Julie, and a Champions Jack and Jill competitor. Yet I can't shake this thought that I could've done better. Such is the nature of my personality to care more about my performance relative to my potential rather than relative to those around me.

Watching the videos, I pour over every moment and critique my movement. I listen carefully to the judges' feedback, seeking new paths for improvement. (I received some excellent and constructive feedback -- many thanks to Damon, Heidi, and Kathy for their input.)

My spotlight in the Ballroom spotlight flopped. Just knowing I could've done better disappoints me, not matter how we placed relative to others. Karissa and I had worked so hard on refining our dance, running spotlights, preparing for the competition in technique, musicality, creativity, and structure. Then the big moment arrives and my mind draws a blank: I freeze up and stilt the performance. The all-skate went well, at least. Landing in the top six is no small feat, but I am more dissatisfied with myself because I could've done better: even if we somehow landed 1st place, my mind and heart would not be at ease.

The Jook Joint competition went smoother. I had my game face on, we connected and moved well together, and maintained a balanced performance. I was honored to place 3rd in a competition where professional couples go to cut their teeth.

The Champions Jack & Jill went quite well. J&J competitions are always my weak point, so I'm pleased with my progress. I'm working on a lot of issues regarding connection and musicality in the J&J. I tend to dance my partner rather than dance with my partner. Thanks to feedback received from SCBF and through the training weekend, it was clear that I was beginning to address these issues.

Analyzing the videos, I see all these areas that require work. I consider myself fortunate that I have dedicated dance coaches (Barry and Brenda) that guide my progress and show me ways to improve. I value their expertise, experience, and vision, and seek their feedback after every competition.

It can sometimes be difficult to maintain faith in my path. There is so much I don't understand, particularly about their interpretation of Blues dancing. At times, it feels like a terrible detriment: I isolate too much, my walking is stilted, my hips disconnect, my movement is flowery and unsupported, my pulse is still not there, the list goes on and on. I pursue a dance technique that I don't fully comprehend and must maintain faith in The Process. Then I watch Barry and Brenda move and remember why I drill esoteric technique and dance outside my circle of comfort.

The path to great dancing is a process. While there are days that I want to throw it all away and move in a style I understand, I take comfort in knowing that it's the process that makes a better dancer. By challenging yourself to tackle the unknown, you come out better for it. I appreciate the structure provided by training with Barry and Brenda, for the concrete ways in which I can refine my dance, for the inspiration I draw from watching them move. I trust in my coaches to steer me in the right direction. I aspire to the way they dance.

Sometimes I wonder why I do it. Why I invest thousands of dollars in my training with no plan to make dance my source for gainful employment. I don't have an exact answer yet; all I know is that it is something I must do. I am so compelled to strive for the best in my dance, not matter the cost. Such are the nature of passions, I suppose.

In the meantime, I need to get my ass in gear and work harder on my dance. The past three weeks were intense, but I should sustain this energy to continue training. There are so many issues to work on, and in many ways this excites me. I am headed in the right direction -- I've received feedback from enough people to know that in my heart -- but it's not close to being there yet. You can never be perfect in dance, never reach 100%, but I'd love to hit a solid 80%.

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On a side note, I am so glad I stayed Monday night in Austin. We went out to TC's Lounge, a small Jook joint with superb live music. The energy in the room, the driving music, the right amount of alcohol, the sweat and bodies crowded together and pulse of the room, it kept me dancing all night long. I just couldn't stop moving. It was inspirational: I was transported to a time when this is what you'd do every night for fun. Good times and good Blues. What a way to release all this energy from the weekend and bring close my time in Austin.

The experience reminds me of this passage from "Jazz," by Toni Morrison. I will bring this post to a close with it as a parting gift to your imagination.

"Before the lights are turned out, and before the sandwiches and spiked soda water disappear, the one managing the record player chooses fast music suitable for the brightly lit room, where obstructing furniture has been shoved against walls, pushed into the hallway, and into bedrooms piled high with coats. Under the ceiling light pairs move like twins born with, if not for, the other, sharing the partner's pulse like a second jugular. They believe they know before the music does what their hands, their feet are to do, but that illusion is the music's secret drive: the control it tricks them into believing is theirs; the anticipation it anticipates. In between record changes, while the girls fan blouse necks to air damp collarbones or pat with anxious hands damage moisture has done to their hair, the boys press folded handkerchiefs to their foreheads. Laughter covers indiscreet glances of welcome and promise, and takes the edge of gestures of betrayal and abandon."  - page 64 and 65.

The last few weeks have been a whirlwind of dancing to prepare for the bluesSHOUT! competitions. I compete with Karissa in the Ballroomin' strictly and with Julie in the Jookin' strictly.

Since Karissa and I now have a reputation and most judges know how we've danced previously, we worked our asses off to step it up another notch. A lot of other competitors are doing the same. So, for the past three weekends, we've tried to come together as a partnership after four months of not seeing each other while simultaneously refining our technique, presentation, and musicality.

Aaaaand… go.

We started off with two hours of private lessons on the previous Sunday (April 4th). That got us thinking about a lot of material. It was not easy to start off a private with Brenda and have her critique our partnership when we literally hadn't danced together in four months. The lessons yielded important critiques of our dancing and direction for where we go next.

Last weekend we attended a competition and performance retreat with Barry Douglas and Brenda Russell. Always a valuable experience, this intensive training had us dancing ten hours a day for four days. We would run J&J and Strictly comps every day, mixed with technical work. By the end, I felt like I couldn't dance. Also, that I couldn't move for my body being so sore. My head exploded several times throughout the weekend. But it always feels so good a couple days later.

I traveled up to Seattle on Tuesday to practice more with Karissa. This was a good idea because it allowed us to review what we learned and assimilate the data into our dancing. Now we're feeling solid, connected, grounded, and looking sharp.

I am excited for this weekend at bluesSHOUT! The competitions were a big reason for me to come out to the event. Social dancing, seeing lovely people, and teaching private lessons are great, but I'm especially ramped up about the comps. I think they're going to be a blast and they have been a real inspiration to me to work on my dancing.

I've come to realize that one of the reasons for competitions are to inspire and challenge the competitors. It's a great way to push yourself and to receive feedback from others on your current level of dancing. They are also always inspiring to watch. It excites me that the Blues community has continued to evolve and develop a more thorough understanding of the dance.

After a two-day recess, it's back to traveling and teaching. I had the good fortunate to stay with a family friend in Frederick, MD, for the past couple days. It was a pleasure to relax, sleep comfortably, get some work done, eat well, and not move around much for a couple days. I grew up in Frederick, so we even visited my old home where I lived until I was seven.

I've returned to Pittsburgh to visit CMU and consider its graduate program. Most of the school activities end by the afternoon, so my schedule is open after that for teaching lessons and hanging out.

Trip up to Boston went marvelously. It began with a rough start where I had 15 minutes to shower, pack, and get out the door. With no time to eat breakfast, I was left to my own devices -- and my own food back -- to sustain myself for the next eight hours. Unfortunately, the best I could do was bread and peanut butter. By the time I arrived in Boston I was famished and desperately wanting greens. At least my body knows (in a general sense) what it needs.

I was uncertain whether I'd stay in Boston for Friday, depending on the number of private lessons I could schedule. Much to my pleasant surprise, a lot of people were interested in taking lessons, even without prompting. I think I taught six or seven lessons over 24 hours. It was rewarding to work with leads in the community. I don't get to do this often -- especially at dance events -- because I'm mostly soliciting privates to follows I'm dancing with. I was excited by the opportunity to seed good habits among leads to make our partner's experience more enjoyable.

I was impressed by how may people wanted to learn and refine their dancing. The class at Blues Union was well attended. I ran them through a variety of solo movements. By the end, their sways were beginning to integrate and their fish tails looked … fishy. Been a while since I taught that solo moves class, it's changed a lot since I did it in Portland. Incidentally, I think it made good advertising for my private lessons because it highlighted technical knowledge and movement quality, concepts that many students appreciated.

Friday evening (following private lessons) went quickly as we went to BSC for linty hop and then out for drinks after. Surrounded by good friends and good conversation, it's times like these make me wish our brains were better equipped to permanently imprint memories. Perhaps my favorite moment from that night (not taken verbatim):

Julie: (talking about a cheesy song being DJed poorly in the past, speaking sarcastically) "Of course, this song is excellent of its own virtue. In a vacuum, it's great."
Andrew: "Exactly, because in a vacuum, you can't hear it."

Physics jokes, FTW.

Now it's back to Pittsburgh to visit Carnegie Mellon University on Tuesday, then on to DC to teach on Thursday. It's hard to believe my trip is rapidly coming to an end: it's going so fast.

I’d like to open this post by saying that Philadelphia’s scene rocks my socks. For serious. I have not yet seen such a large group of excited, humble, eager dancers that want to learn and dance and socialize and be happy. They had around 30 people for the lessons at Powerhouse Blues, which made about 30-40% of those in attendance at the dance. Such a large portion of dancers that want to take lessons is truly impressive.

People here are not afraid to solo dance. Imagine that! It’s the first scene I’ve encountered where I lead a breakaway and people act just as comfortable in solo as in partnered. As I learn more vernacular jazz movements and the history of Blues dancing, I increasingly appreciate dancing in solo. It is, after all, the origin of Blues dancing.

Thanks to a warm reception in Philly (and interest in hanging out + taking lessons), I’m extending my stay here until Thursday, March 11th. Let me know if you’re interested in taking a lesson on Wednesday, as I’m currently free most of the day.