the cuban salsa blog

This is the question I posed to myself a few days ago.

The answer?

Maybe you could tell me because I don’t think it’s possible. And yet ironically, it’s quite easily the most common scenario I observe when I watch dancers on the floor.

Of course in this case we are not talking about a .44 magnum. We are talking about creativity and that which threatens to kill it -fear.

Scared Shitless

On the surface, every dance floor looks like a party. People are smiling, socializing and whipping out their best moves. Confident dancers, bust moves and twirl their partners to the delight of smiling onlookers.

But like many things in life, all is not what it seems.

Below all the smiles, poses, makeup and clothing dare I venture to say that insecurity is brewing dangerously close to the surface. A leads movement doesn’t go as plan, watch as his eyes instantly dart toward the sideline, checking to see if he was caught in the act.

Watch the follow attempt to get her styling just right, doing it over and over again the same exact way because to stray from what she was taught would be erroneous and ultimately counter to her preconceived notion of form. This can be a very scary thing for some, believe it or not.

Observe the lead as he tries over and over again the same movement that she was unable to follow. He did it “wrong” and now he must correct it by trying it again and again. Otherwise, he may have to come to the conclusion that he just can’t lead it at the moment, and that is a scary thing to face.

Fear keeps you doing the same thing over and over again.  Fear keeps you in your boundaries. Fear keeps you safe. Unfortunately, fear keeps you safe from creativity, spontaneity, and an AUTHENTIC partner connection.

Dare I say that a deeply rooted fear and insecurity tends to be one of the prevailing emotions on the dance floor? Look below the surface and truly think about it. How do you feel when you dance…?

Like someone is watching?

From Where do You DANCE?

I would like to turn your attention to the subtleties of the dance floor that are often overlooked. And then I would like you to go within yourself, ask the tough questions and give yourself honest answers. Don’t worry, I won’t tell a soul.

When you begin dancing in public places, and something goes awry, does your mind instantly wander to “who saw that?”

Do you frequently execute new movements on the fly, or does that seem a little risky? If so, why is it risky? What will happen if you choose to come out of your box? Do you worry about your dance being critiqued by others? Do you dance from a space that simply wishes to be accepted by others as good?

I think a large percentage do.

And I also think there is so much more in store for them, if and only if they pull their nose from the ass of onlookers and begin dancing for themselves.

So how do we stop fearing and start dancing?

James Brown Nose

I write because I observe things. And I write because I have been there. I’ve felt the twinge of insecurity, checking out the sidelines to see if anyone caught my error, afraid to interpret the music dynamically because it was difficult, and the chance of error was great. I tried to make my dance as perfect as possible for the onlookers, lest they see my “weakness”.

I was a James Brown Nose dancer.

I, like many other JBN’ers, was obsessed with impressing people, contrary to my training as a Afro-Cuban dancer. My dance was gripped by fear, and the attachment to praise.

So what changed?

Water Guns Can’t Kill You

First off, I developed an awareness that I was dancing out of fear. I recapitulated what I felt on the dance floor and isolated the emotion. I begin to actually hear the stories I told myself. I exposed what was hidden and looked it head on.

Steel became plastic, bullets became water. And I was better able to access the creativity within.

Another Face in the Crowd

I asked myself another tough question: Am I just another face on this dance floor? What makes me so different? If it takes you ten minutes to answer, it’s time for a revamping of your philosophy…

Strategy for Transforming Guns into Super Soakers

1.Take a moment to go back in time. Transport yourself to the last time you were on the dance floor. Re-examine all of the details leading up to, during, and after the dance. Pay attention to how you felt, and pay special attention to moments of insecurity or sparks of fear.  Ask yourself “why?”. And continue asking yourself  why until you find your pistol.

2.Once you’ve discovered your pistol, your fear, imagine what would happen if you were to disregard it. Examine the consequences. Are you ready to deal with them? Are they truly significant?

3. Ask yourself what makes you different from other dancers? Find that seed of uniqueness within you. Once you figure out exactly what makes you so different, RUN WITH IT. If you can’t find anything, that’s good too.

You now know exactly where you need to begin.

**What follows is a great story! Now guys, you can save yourself a lot of heartache by coming to class and asking questions! Also, Tonia has informed me that The Clave Matrix has just been published. It’s chock full info and exercises for the more serious Latin dancer.  -Eduardo

By Reed Colver

What follows is a particularly long account of my journey to find the elusive clave.

The short version is this: The world of Cuban dance and music is entirely foreign to me. I went for months thinking I understood ‘enough’ about the clave, when I didn’t get it at all. Then, I went for months being mortified I couldn’t hear the clave. I was far too embarrassed to ask. I should have. Without it, I was missing a critical framework for my dance.
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Dance is discovery, discovery, discovery. -Martha Graham

A guest post by Reed Colver

Six months ago, I discovered that I was stepping backward in my basic walk at a time when I should have been stepping forward.

Apparently, I had been for quite some time. Lots of work subsequently followed to fix that particular issue.

Then, a few days ago during class a glance at my feet yielded a new discovery: my second step wasn’t going anywhere at all.
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We all have a narrative, or a story we tell ourselves that dictates what we do in various situations. Though this little story keeps us on a behavioral track and safe from outside “threats”, it’s almost never accurate!

When it comes to dancing, you also have a chapter from your narrative that’s being played over and over again in your mind anytime you are dancing either with a partner or by yourself.

What loop is playing in your head?

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Return to the beginner's mind.

A guest post by Jill Powell

Back in the summer of 2007 I had my first salsa class.

The bug bit hard and in addition to going to class and practicing with friends outside of class, I spent nearly all my free time pursuing social dancing opportunities. Live shows, festivals, every “Latin night” in a 30 mile radius, even trips to other cities in search of more chances to dance.

Just like with anything new, there is a peaceful lack of history.

Men in the room were just “leads,” and I was simply a “follow.” I saw a sea of nameless dancers and would always graciously accept the numerous invitations to dance the night away without passing any judgment.

Then I learned a little more.
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A guest post by Reed Colver

As a follow, there are so many things I must be aware of simultaneously, that I can’t ‘think’ about any one of them. I have to let my mind go and sense everything until they really are no longer individual pieces. The moment I think or focus too hard on any one piece – the music, my feet, what the lead is doing – I lose all the pieces. It’s a bit like trying to grab a handful of water. Try it – you’ll see what I mean.

One of the most insightful moments as a follow came – as they usually do – almost as an afterthought. One of those ‘try this’ moments when several things fall ‘click’ ‘click’ click’ into place and end with a quiet – ahhh. I was working on feeling the lead through my arms  – creating that tension at just the right moment, while keeping my arm loose the rest of the time, but yet always keeping it slightly bent and not to let it go beyond my shoulder.

I would find  the tension, but then loose the the looseness. Or remember to keep my arm loose, and then forget about the bend.

Remember grabbing that handful of water? Yeah, it was one of those classes.

Just about the time I started to wonder why I hadn’t taken up knitting instead, we tried something different.

“Stop thinking about your arm. Just focus on the pressure of your fingertips against the lead’s fingertips. Feel the movement through the fingertips.”

‘Click.’

Suddenly I was feeling – feeling – the lead in an entirely new way. And I stopped thinking about my arms and focused on allowing my fingertips communicate with the lead’s fingertips.  And, amazingly, my arm seemed to follow more naturally.

‘Click. Ahhh.’

This requires me to feel, and not think, about the lead. To sense the lead’s movements through my fingertips, and allow the rest of my body to follow. It allows space in my awareness for music, rhythm, and for that to become part of my movement.

I find it creates a direct connection with the lead that, in its subtly is infinitely more powerful than gripping the lead’s hand or thinking about my arm.

I’m not saying it’s the magical answer that suddenly solved all those problems. (I’ll admit, I still have moments when I contemplate the benefits of knitting). But when I lose that connection and start thinking too much, remembering my fingertips brings me back to that place of awareness.

That handful of water? It’s possible. But only by gently scooping it into the palm of your hand. Try it.

Good performers reveal a private truth in a public situation.
- Lorna Marshall, The Body Speaks.

This revealing of “private truth” in a public situation is what both good actors and good dancers do.

In other words, through their dance they express emotions that, on a day-to-day basis, are not normally expressed in public.

I think authenticity is what makes dance deeply satisfying for many people to watch.

Authentic emotion in both actors and dancers can be touched, felt, and absorbed as your own.

When a good dancer or actor expresses the “private truth” of their anger and passion in public, you can FEEL it. You can relate to it so closely, that for that moment you almost become them.

And I think this is what makes great dancing and great movies so incredibly addicting. As human beings, even for brief moments, we love to become someone else.

Real dance allows someone else to become you.

A guest post by Tonia Burkett

I’m a little bit of a procrastinator and a little bit perfectionist, so it’s not surprising that I didn’t start dancing until this year (I’m not saying how old, but it’s older than you may think).

I’m afraid of not doing well, of appearing incompetent, of letting someone else be in control and there is no place for any of that in salsa dancing.

As a person who has not done any leading, except back leading, it is difficult for me to speculate about what it is like for someone to lead another person in dancing.

I imagine it is difficult to be the person who has to come up with the patterns and to be responsible for making the two of you “look good” while you are dancing.

Both the lead and the follow have to take responsibility for the quality of the dance, but I know leads experience a lot of pressure to keep things interesting and meet the needs of the follow.

So I must make it clear that I do understand, to some extent, the difficulties of leading in salsa dance.

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In “The Soloist” there is a scene which depicts a teenage Nathaniel Ayers laying in bed with with cello strings drawn onto arm with a pen. Before going to sleep -and possibly during- he would play this “instrument” to improve his cello skills.

A little much, right?

Malcom Gladwell in his book, “Outliers: The Story of Success” claims that 10,000 hours of practice in one’s field is needed before becoming “great”.

He sifts through the timelines of giants like Mozart, The Beatles, Bill Gates, and even famous hockey players demonstrating that, no matter what field, good becomes great at the 10,000 hour mark. It’s not genius, it’s time and focus.

This got me thinking…

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