ON WITH THE DANCE

Taranaki Daily News, 27 May 1933, Page 1 (Supplement)

ON WITH THE DANCE

A BALLROOM PANORAMA • <

(By

D.V.)

The dance that Lord Byron urged them to “on with” a century ago was not quite the same as the dance we “on with” in this year of gracelessness. Time, and the Great Scrap have so hurried along the evolution of Terpsichore’s pastime that the word “dance” conveys more ideas than one to the modem young people. The old circular waltz and its minuetting and pirouetting family of rhythm claim the palm as the forebears’ of all the ballroom dancing we know. There have been, and still are, of course, some crazy misconceptions at which the ballroom floor curls up in protest. For instance, the “charleston” kicked itself to an ignominious death before it was more than a half-witted perverse child. The “breakaway” was a civilised attempt to be uncivilised. The “blackbottom” was an ungainly effort at negro shufflestepping. Tire “heebie-jeebies”—save the name I—was all that its undignified title suggests, only worse, with its neckclinging, arm-drooping devotees, sticking out at the comers and jigging along the floor like the proverbial Scotsman with the bent penny. But although-any of these might have been unattractive in itself, each has left its mark. Some of their less primitive steps have been modified into fox-trot or waltz movements. What they have lost in crudeness they have gained in charm. Yes, charm. Whatever scorn our elder folk may visit upon our modem ballroom style of dancing is probably due to either ignorance or lack of observation. Of course, there are always plenty of people who can’t be bothered doing anything properly. It is unfortunate for their reputations as trip-toes that so many should be content to pick up two or three steps of a fox-trot and manage a turn and reverse in the waltz. Not for them the slow symphony of the tango; Although a dancer may quite enjoy the romance of . walking round the floor with the apple of his eye in his arms, . the pleasure of expressing in graceful movements the rhythm of music is lost to them. The patron of the . ballroom who merely sets out on a 10-minute hike every time the orchestra plays deserves the ridicule of the old-timers who revelled in the mass movements of lancers, larinka, maxiena and mazurka a few years ago.

For the last six years this Dominion has revived the old-time dances to an extent flattering to our grandpas, and intriguing to adolescents. After -the beauty of the lancers executed with precision on a shadowed floor, the fox-trot must seem a frightful muddle to more conservative folk. Their joy was to move in unison, forward and backward, in and out, curtseying and swinging. The effect was a graceful ensemble, but lacking in originality and independence. It really didn’t matter if grandpa didn’t dance as well as auntie then, because the art was in following the crowd. If Pavlova had contented herself with following the crowd, the world would have lost a genius. In her divine aloofness she made the physical interpretation?of rhythm ' quite apart" from anything a ballroom could produce. The glorious poetry of her motion was her song of individual expression, dedicated to the Creator of all beauty. Her gifts were her joy, their expression, her immortality. Pavlova was the wonder of a century, an inspiration to the lover of gracefulness. No one dances with a partner with the intention of being deliberately clumsy. The pleasure of. dancing is in expressing the rhythm of the music—providing it has rhythm—gracefully and without effort. The multiplicity of graceful and intricate steps of modem dances would be a revelation to the sticklers for oldtime orthodoxy., A demonstration by two trained dancers who . have promised beforehand not to tread on each other's toes is beautiful to watch, and the envy, of all who hanker after an individuality apart from and above the banal walking enthusiasts. .

And again, why the objection to dancing by some very religious people ? Their children must not overstep the bounds of modesty. Jolly Miller, the Duke of York and Bingo are their happy lot. Yet in these pure-minded pleasures perfectly normal young women must hurl themselves at someone else’s brother for the next round of music, battle for their claims, laughing nervously with the very daring of it. All of which seems to me. frightfully immodest and terribly energetic. Have I penned a black picture ? Never mind, my “Grab-the-arm” and “Flop-in-the-chair” stage died prematurely when I was caught smoking. So perhaps I am bitter. The “vices” of dancing are nothing more than the breaches of ethics which would have been committed in any . case sooner or later by the sinners. It. is a poor ■ compliment to .youth if its recreations must be confined beneath supervision which shelters them S! from all worldly temptations. Circumstances force upon it the spineless virtue of the hermit who locks himself miles away from temptations and the make-or-break battles of a strong character. And where’s the difference between “going home" from a boisterous evening of Bingo and whatnot, and going home . from a dance ? Enjoy Pop-goes-the-Weasel by all means; but from the noises I have heard from outside a Jolly-Miller den, I prefer the quiet orderliness of the less virtuous ballroom.

In another department of dancing a pastime which is gaining increasing popularity is tap-dancing. This is a recreation both fascinating and energetic. For a good shake-up tap-dancing is hard to better, with its syncopated toebeats, happy tiotness, and the effort of going through it without dropping a stitch or missing a beat. Moreover, the performances you have seen on the stage and screen need not discourage you; those artists have had to practise to perfection, for their feet are their bread and butter.

What does it all matter, anyway ? Don’t mind me. Dance old-time or new, fast or slow, tango or tap. The spectator sees most of the game. My shoes are size 12!