DANCING THEN AND NOW.

Star (Christchurch), Volume LXVI, Issue 20280, 14 April 1934, Page 20 (Supplement)

DANCING THEN AND NOW.

Styles and Manners in the Ballroom. FLIRTATION .WITH A FAN. With the approach of the winter season the question arises: What are we going to dance this winter? Determined efforts have been made in Christchurch during the last two years to revive the old-fashioned square dances, the Lancers, d’Alberts, Caledonians and Waltz Cotillon, besides such round dances as the schottische, yaleta, Tasmanian two-step and barn dance. _ Will this winter see an increase in the popularity of these oldtime favourites, or will some new dance be introduced from America or England by the powers that be? Ihe question is an interesting one. An enthusiastic old-time dancer presented the case lately for old-fashioned dancing. He claims that the rhythm and variety of music of the old-time dance, together with its charm and beauty, make an appeal to music-lovers thatmodern jAzz'has so far failed to arouse. One factor which he considers has great influence in this direction is the revival of long dresses, which seem to be firmly established now for evening wear. Long, graceful skirts certainly add charm to the old-time dances and are inclined to hamper the freedom of movement so necessary for dancing modern jazz. It can be truly claimed that long evening dresses have already caused some change in dancing ■styles. Gone are the Charlestons and Heeby-jeebies of yesteryear. It is interesting to speculate whether a return to the old-fashioned dances would lead -to a revival of old-time manners. Fans and bouquets might reappear in the ballroom, along with gloves, which have already staged a come-back” (except, that is, with the men, where they are most necessary). No doubt the modern girl, once she put m i nc l .to it, would not have great difficulty in acquiring the art, so wellknown to our grandmothers, of flirtatiop with a fan. But it is doubtful if she would accept, the dictum of one wnter_on dancing manners in a book on Home Amusements,” published about 1893 or 1894, who says: “It is distinctly a breach of good manners lor the same lady and gentleman to dance together for the greater part of ■ the evening, and to show marked preference m selecting partners is in very bad taste.” 1 dwells on this point at some length and illustrates it with a story ® m ® m ® ® mm ® m m m m m m m m m si b

Her beautiful dark eyes glowed with a rare enthusiasm. Victoria sat silent. Elizabeth compressed her lips. “I hope,” she said thoughtfully, “that the spirit of adventure which gave to my reign its unique position in the annals of history has not yielded place to the indolence of the lotus-eater. If Merrie England is to be Merrie England still, then let them make high endeavour their chief virtue. If there are no fresh lands to conquer, zounds, then let them conquer their troubles and put a new prosperity upon the map of the world! Gadzooks, we set them the example. Let history be their guide!” “That spirit is not dead, dear Bess; look to their achievements in the realm of new inventions. Men, and women, too, yet will risk life and limb to break a record, even as our athletes of old Greece and Rome.” ‘There is more to life than just good health and material well-being,” said Victoria. “ Let them also remember those virtues that have made our reign a memorial for all time.” “ Memorial smacks too much of death, dear Vic, and also to artistic .souls hath an unpleasant association with that period. Surely you would not have us believe that all such merits died with your translation to this happier place/’ “Nay,” Cleopatra sat up on her couch. “ History doth but repeat itself. If the present generation would glean | from each cycle only that which is I best and realise that each epoch has j some lesson to teach ” “ Then might Merrie England be | Merrie England still!” “ We all can only strive for perfection. A healthv mind in a healthv [ body. Dear Albert always says ” I The queen looked up sharply, her sen- ; fence unfinished, and sighed. I Victoria sat alone.

of an engaged couple “ too demonstratively sweet, who met at a dance at the house of a lady who was well acquainted with both.” This delinquent pair, instead of joining the resf of the party in the drawing-room, spen f the greater part of the evening dancing together in an adjacent room where they could hear the music. Their hostess, however, coming unseen by them into the room in search of her fan, discovered them “languidly going through the steps of the mazourka.” She returned half an hour later to find them still at it, so she locked them in, and later sent in supper for two, with the message that as they preferred not to associate with her friends she had had supper served for the two of them alone. The climax came, however, when the unlucky pair were each presented with a note from their hostess. The lady’s read: “Mrs presents her compliments to Miss and begs the favour of a few minutes’ conversation with her in the private sittingroom before calling her carriage.” The man was even more summarily dealt with, as his note read: “Mrs presents her compliments to Mr , and having shown, such hospitality as he seemed inclined to accept, will relieve him from the courtesies which appear to be so onerous by asking him at once to order his carriage or—should he prefer walking— to accept the services of the attendant, who will assist him to his hat and coat and await his departure.” A Moral Pursuit. Yet another book on “ The New Dancing as it Should Be,” published presumably soon after the Great War, contains much interesting information on dances of the past and amusing sidelights on dancing manners at the time of its publication. The writer sets himself out to defend dancing against those “ whose number,” he says, “is happily diminishing day by day,” who

object to it on moral greftands. The Aberdeen Presbytery had attacked dancing in no uncertain terms as “ springs and flings ” and “ closebosomed whirlings,” but the author tries to show that throughout the ages nations who cultivated the art of dancing were prosperous and moral, and that it was only neglected in times of demoralisation and decline. He instances the days of “ Good Queen Bess,” when, among other dances, the Pavane was very popular. In this dance the men “ slowly approached their partners with outstretched arms and mantles, imitating the actions of turkey-cocks and peacocks spreading out their tails, the more disdainful their demeanour the more appropriate to the character of the dance.” Passing mention is also made of the cushion dance, popular in the Court of Charles 11., which the author describes as “ one of those kissing performances in which it was not infrequently necessary that the lips of the partners should be pressed together for fully a minute in order to keep time with the music, and which had really nothing to do with the legitimate domain of dancing.” Holding Your Partner. It is on the subject of holding your partner, however, that the author really lets himself go. lie advises the man to guide his partner in such a way that she will feel as safe “ as an old lady does in the guidance of a policeman across a crowded thoroughfare.” On the other hand, the lady who is inclined to emjponpoint is delicately requested “ not to lean on the shoulder of the gentleman, as she is likely by so doing to impose a severe strain upon her partner.” But perhaps, after all, dancing in those days was not very different from what it is to-day. The author remarks: “ Some young men are diffident and under-rate their capabilities: not many —most of them think their dancing a great deal better than it really is.” We had thought to have observed this same phenomenon ourselves. —M.O.