While at Lindy Focus, I had the opportunity to do a video interview with Josh Callazo, the universally-admired drummer of Jonathan Stout and his Campus Five. It was shot on a dinky camera, part of which was during the sound check as that was the only time the interview could be done. (I also accidentally cut off a drum flourish Josh gave for the ending, dammit.) However, Jonathan and Josh have shown a lot of interest in us doing a longer, more professional version (with good microphones) at some point. Until then, enjoy.

Since the first half of the interview with Josh is during the end of a sound check, it mgiht be hard to hear the first part of the interview. It begins like this:

What are the differences between rock drumming and swing drumming?

(one of the musicians behind him): Money!

Josh: That’s very true. Well…basically, you couldn’t have rock and roll without swing drumming. In swing drumming, you swing the eight notes. (Josh gives an example.) For instance, I’ll just give you a little brief run-through of pre-swing to swing to early R&B to Rock and Roll. (Gives examples.)

So, I hope you enjoy the interview, I certainly did. And a special thanks to Josh Collazo for being so cool.

————————————————————————————————————————————–

[NOTE: Recently I published "Venn Diagram #2: Neo-Swing" in which I made the joke that even really good Neo-swing music is still bad Neo-swing music. It is not just a cheap shot, I promise. This interview with Josh proved a great opportunity to explain the joke and how it's actually something that is interesting and important about swing (to me, at least). I have updated the Venn Diagram with new notes regarding this.]

[This article would not have been possible without the help of many people, especially Hilary Alexander, Marge Takier, Peter Loggins, and Nick Williams.]

Harold “Hal” Chavoor Takier, unarguably one of the greatest original jitterbugs, passed away at his home in California on January 9, 2012, from complications of Alzheimer’s disease. He was 94 years old.

Hal was one of the greatest. Many people will say this over the next few months, and they are not just saying that because he recently died. Hal really was one of the greatest jitterbugs of all time. In fact, as far as influence in modern swing dancing, he was perhaps right behind Frankie Manning and Dean Collins (as far as leaders go). And Hal Takier was the only leader to be powerfully influential in both the Lindy Hop and Bal-Swing scene.

Hal was one of only four or five people who made up a very distinct group of original jitterbugs. They were in the movies, so we could see them dance when they were young; they were well-respected and loved by their peers, so we know that their fellow dancers thought they had “it,” the traits that make a great swing dancer; and they stuck around long enough to dance in their old age and talk to the dancers of the new generation and pass on their wisdom. Hal’s death to us isn’t just the passing of an icon, but also to many the passing of a friend and a mentor.

Hal was born at 1:15 a.m. on February 13th, 1917 in Fresno, California. His father always told him he was born at midnight, so they had a tradition of celebrating his birthday on the 12th. Both his parents were born in Turkey, and his father came through Ellis Island as a young boy, alone. Hal was an only child, and his mother died when he was three. Growing up, Hal attended California Polytechnic High.

Hal began dancing when he was 18. Hal and his first wife, Betty Roeser, were dance partners and became very successful as the swing craze swept California, winning many competitions, touring and performing with swing bands —including six months in Australia— and being part of the Ray Rand Swingers, a professional performance group of the time that included Maxie Dorf, Lolly Wise, Venna Archer, and others. At one point Hal and Betty were given the nickname “The Savoys.” Though the origin of this nickname is uncertain, his widow, Marge, suspected it was a nickname created by a mispronunciation of Hal’s middle name, “Chavoor.” (His name is billed as “Hal Chavoor” in several newspaper pictures.) The “Savoy kick” version of Charleston, which Hal often did, was reportedly named after him.

In 1939 Hal and Betty placed second in the International Swing Jam, held at the Los Angeles Coliseum, which was sponsored by the legendary Palomar Ballroom. It was probably all-around the biggest swing dance contest in history with reportedly more than 1,000 competitors and 26,000 spectators and both Ken Baker and Artie Shaw’s bands on the bandstand. The famous picture of Hal and Betty at the top of this article was taken at that contest. Almost a decade later, in 1948, Hal and Betty won a contest called the Harvest Moon Festival Jitterbug Contest in Los Angeles (the contest was not affiliated with New York’s famous Harvest Moon Ball). They were nominated and inducted into the California Swing Dance Hall of Fame in 1990.

Hal and Betty had had three children, first a boy and a girl, and then a second boy who died tragically young by choking. After the swing era, Hal and Betty divorced. According to Marge, Betty “hated” dancing and only did it for Hal. Hal met Marge in the late 1950s while out dancing. They were married February 13th, 1960, on Hal’s (actual) 43rd birthday. They had no children together.

Beginning when he was teenager, Hal worked in the rubber industry, though he took time off several times to tour with swing bands and perform. He continued to work in the industry the rest of his life. Before he retired, he was his company’s head of personnel and of the office of safety and health administration, often working with disputes in court.

The Dancer

As a dancer, Hal Takier was an individual; he didn’t dance like anyone else. When many of his peers in the late 1930s and early 1940s were flocking towards the look and styling of Dean Collins, Hal continued to create his dancing his way. He didn’t think dancers should try to look like other dancers. His peers revered him for his creativity and energy. Hal and Betty invented the technique, moves, and tricks they danced in Maharaja. (Marge Takier said that the first time Hal swung her out in his own style —as opposed to adjusting for her— she nearly fell flat on the floor because his swing-out was so different from everyone else’s.) Modern swing dancer Nick Williams remembers that anytime Hal saw him on the dance floor, Hal would say “Show me something!”, expecting to see a new pattern or step he hadn’t seen before. Though he appreciated it that many of the new dancers worked hard to perfect his “Roll” or “Merry-go-’round,” he always encouraged them to invent their own moves and create their own voices.

The films Hal Takier appeared in demonstrate how Hal’s own powerful, individual voice was combined with a raw energy and natural showmanship ability.

The first film footage we have of him is from 1938, when newsreel teams captured him and his wife Betty and several other couples doing “Swing” in front of Venice Beach. (Though people refer to this as Balboa today, the old timers would not have done so. Balboa to them was strictly the non-flashy chest-to-chest dance. This was “Swing,” what we now refer to as SoCal Swing or LA Swing.)

Venice Beach Swing Dancers (1938)

Hal told the modern swing dancer, Alicia Milo, “If you’re gonna enter a contest, you better bring your whole arsenal of moves if you wanna win!” The arsenal of moves Hal describes was written on a small sheet of paper he would keep with him. “He was a scrapper, a real competitor,” said Heidi Salerno. “He would often give us competition advice. One of my favorites was to tell us to do basics when the judges weren’t looking and then bust out the good, exciting stuff as they walked by.” This style is evident in his dancing with Alice “Scotty” Scot in the jitterbug contest in the film Twice Blessed. Hal is in the striped shirt beginning at 2:00. Every time the camera focuses on him, he and Alice are doing one of his signature trick steps.

Twice Blessed (1945)

For Hal, the point of doing well in a dance contest was to dance the steps to the music. As he was often known to say: “Enjoy the music. It’s all about the music. When that music gets going….boom. I’m gone.” It’s perhaps slightly unfortunate that when he and his first wife Betty filmed the short Maharaja, they danced to a piano for a soundtrack. Later, the song was added, so their dance looks like simply one trick after another without much regard to the music. However, this slight infraction was overlooked when Maharaja resurfaced in the modern swing era.

Maharaja (1943)

Few dancers had seen the clip Maharaja in the late 1990s, and then it resurfaced again in Southern California. As the clip made its way through the dancers of California, it dramatically influenced the dancing of almost every competitor. The California Balboa/Swing “Cal Bal” Championships that soon followed are renowned for the way the dancers aimed to capture the spirit of Hal and Betty.

“I loved watching all the crazy competitions going on at the time,” modern swing dancer Ben Yau recalled. “It was crazy the stunts these guys were pulling off! Fast forward about two years and I see some vintage clips for the first time. And I laugh realizing that all this time the moves I was in awe of were from Maharaja.”

Defining Hal’s style of dance is difficult. In fact, one could argue to attempt to is missing the point. For instance, in Maharaja, Hal Takier is not a Lindy Hop dancer so much as a swing dancer who added a few Lindy Hop moves into the wide vocabulary of steps he liked to dance to swing music. In his older age, there is footage of him dancing specifically Pure Balboa, or Lindy Hop, but overall, true “Hal Takier” dancing defies an easy label—though, many have found one they think perfectly fits.

“He was a jitterbug,” said Marcelo Teson, a modern swing dancer and film maker. “Someone who, when they heard that special boom boom boom boom, they couldn’t help themselves, they HAD to dance. No other dancer danced longer, harder, or faster. No one in Lindy Hop, no one in Pure Balboa, no one.”

In Teson’s student documentary on Hal Takier, modern dancer Christian Letts (Thompson) mentions how, even at the age of 84, Hal was still dancing longer and harder than all the young dancers on the dance floor. (Which is saying something considering the energetic die-hard late 1990s SoCal swing dance scene. It is, after all, the scene that produced leaders like Nick Williams, Jeremy Otth, Mikey Pedroza, and many others.)

Here is a collection of many different moments of dancing throughout Hal’s life. As the video will attest, Hal Takier’s dancing style hardly changed much at all throughout his life. Whereas dancers like Frankie Manning, Al Minns, and Maxie Dorf danced differently in their old age than they did in the early films, Hal Takier still moved the same and did many of the moves he used to do in the old clips.

Hal Takier, Original Jitterbug: A Collection

From the flash of Maharaja to an almost entire dance of Pure Balboa, there is a wide spectrum of Hal’s dancing on display here. (Notice, too, how Dean Collins refers to them as “Hal and Marge Savoy.”) There is also a little Easter egg stashed inside. At around 17:00, Hal leads his wife Marge to go into their usual side-by-side choreographed routine (you can see it performed in other places in the collection). However, Marge is obviously fed up with doing it at that moment (for all we know he’s led it on her eight times that night already). Notice her posture when he starts going into it and she… just stands there. He then…keeps doing the routine by himself. And after he’s finished the routine? He keeps dancing by himself, while she just stares, waiting for him to finish having his moment. It’s a peek into a comically stubborn part of one of the happiest couples of swing dance history, and something that many romantic dance couples can probably relate to.

The Man

Almost everyone who interacted with Hal would agree that he was not only one of the greatest dancers of the old-timers, but he was also one of the greatest men among them. “I appreciated his straightforward approach to dance and relationships.” Heidi Salerno said. “You always knew where you stood with Hal. He would tell you like it was.”

“When I finally found the courage to introduce myself, they were two of the nicest, kindest people I ever met,” said Denise Phelan. “Unlike some of the other over-eager old-timers, Hal was class all the way; he never once butted-in in the middle of a dance to give you his two cents, even if it was one of his own signature moves. In my experience, he waited until after you finished dancing…. Or waited to be asked for input. ‘If you want me, you know where to find me’ seemed to be his mantra.”

“He had next to no visible ego about his contributions,” said Marcelo Teson. “He knew he was beloved and admired but to him it was just great to see so many people dancing. He was incredibly generous, he’d talk to anyone who came up to him.”

Hal felt one of the secrets to living long and dancing one’s best was to stay away from drugs and smoking, and to moderate alcohol. (Hal watched several of his jitterbug peers succumb to drug addiction or alcoholism.)

Some have mentioned that Hal seemed to regret a little having spent so much time and energy on dancing when he was young. He once told Denise Phelan, “Kid, dancing is great, but don’t make it your life.” This advice is particularly striking coming from a man who, when he stepped on the dance floor, appeared as if dancing was all that was needed in life. He was always energetic, passionate, and happy when he danced.

Even with all of his swing dancing on film, Hal would probably not be as much the hero as he is to us today if it weren’t for his wife Marge. Marge, who always diligently tried to remember the things Hal said, and remind him of the things he had told her, as Alzheimer’s began taking effect on his memory. Marge, who with Hal started the dances at the Bobby McGee’s restaurant in Southern California. Beginning in 1979, these Sunday afternoon dances brought the original group of SoCal dancers back together. The meet-ups at Bobby McGee’s gave dancers like Sylvia Sykes and historian Dwight Lupardis a place to come and dance and learn from the old-timers. And, beginning in the mid-90s and lasting throughout the 2000s, an entire new generation of young dancers would come to Bobby McGee’s to learn from the original jitterbugs, dancers like Nick Williams, Denise Phelan, Peter Loggins, Jeremy Otth, Minn Vo, Corina Acosta, Mikey Pedroza, Steve Garrett, Heidi Salerno, Christian Letts (Thompson), Marcus Koch, Barbl Kaufer, Tip West, Holly Dumaux, Jonathan Stout, Hilary Alexander, and many, many others.

The story of Bobby McGee’s ended too abruptly: In 2009, they showed up to find the restaurant padlocked and the lights dark. The franchise’s California restaurants had closed. Hal Takier’s story, however, did not end abruptly at all. Because of the nature of Alzheimer’s, Hal had slowly been disappearing over the last decade. The dreaded disease that begins to wipe the mind clean and ends by destroying the body’s ability to function is slow and gentle on the afflicted, but one of the hardest on loved ones, who have to watch over years as a once vivid and bright personality slowly fades to death. Despite this degeneration, Hal could still occasionally surprise, like the time modern dancer David Rehm witnessed him remember a dance choreography from his youth that his wife Marge had never recalled seeing him do before. However, Alzheimer’s disease is fatal, and a month before his 95th birthday, a few days after losing the ability to walk and speak, he passed away while in the care of Marge.

Recent hospice research has stated that the number one regret among dying people is that they wish they had lived a life true to themselves, not others. If Hal’s dancing is a sign of how he lived his life—and it often is in a great dancer— then it’s hard to imagine Hal having this regret before he died. Hal danced exactly true to himself, and not to anyone else. And so he lived.

[Additional thanks go to Corina Acosta, Kara Britt, Tise Chao, Nelle Cherry, Mickey Fortanasce, Chelsea Lee, Christian Letts, Denise Paulino Phelan, Joel Plys, David Rehm, Heidi Salerno, Sylvia Sykes, Marcelo Teson, Minn Vo, Gayle White, and Ben Yau for all their input.]

Memories and Dedications

[Below are memories and dedications to Hal Takier from dancers who knew him and were strongly influenced by him, from throughout the modern swing generation. Many of these helped provide the quotes used in the article above. More will continue to be added below. Many of their names are links to where you have seen them on (or slightly above) the dance floor.]

When I first heard of Hal…

Denny’s… In a parking lot in Anaheim, after a long night of memories, sweating to 300 beats a minute. Shirt drenched from spinning. I was young and fairly confident that I was on the right track. Discovering myself in a new area of creation, through the expression of movement. However looking back, I was still only crawling and my heart wasn’t really there. I needed a nudge to really get it. Peter Loggins, Thea and myself were the only ones left on the empty asphalt, and as he exhaled his filterless cigarette he told us of a clip now known as “Maharaja”. I could tell by the quiver in his voice as he spoke of it, that it was something very special. I had to see it, I had this feeling that it could change my world, and later realized my intuition was right. After a while of asking around I got it, some bootleg copy someone had nicked… and there it was… it was circular, it was fast, it was dynamic, it was inspiring and beautiful, it was Hal. This was it!… what I had been waiting for, and from that moment on I knew that I cared only about learning balboa. It was a moment when one actually feels one’s heart beat differently, and I hoped to one day understand it.

Bobby McGees…After some research done by friends we were told that Hal was still dancing, and, better yet, nearby. We took a trip one afternoon to Bobby McGees. The car ride was full of anticipation, time went by slowly for me while we sat in traffic on the 5 South. This dimly lit dance-hall, doubling as a local eatery, smelled of fried foods and had a sense of still water. He was here somewhere, but how could we recognize him. I took my seat at the booth and waited. The music kicked on and still nothing. I felt too nervous to disturb the calm pond with any steps I had picked up along the way. I found myself thinking of a quote from Abraham Lincoln… ” it is better to stay quiet and be thought a fool, then to open your mouth and remove all doubt”. Somehow this applied to me in that moment in a sense of dance. Slowly people said their hellos, and were taking hands and approaching the floor from the darker sides of the parquet under our feet. Through the crowd I recognized something. It was the “Circle” I had been watching over and over again… I had been dreaming about and wanting to do. I needed no introduction to know who I was watching… it was Hal. Now I was nervous, I love to dance but how could I do anything in front of who I considered to be the greatest. After much procrastination I decided to go out and give my best and dance for the sake of dancing and forget about everything else. That afternoon was one that will never be forgotten by me. Eventually I introduced myself and told him how much I appreciated his dance. He was very gracious and standing with a lovely woman, his wife, Marge. I asked her to dance before I could stop the words from coming out of my mouth. She was incredible – warm, funny and patient. This tradition of afternoons at McGees lasted a long while, and every time I went I felt myself grow and absorb more of what Hal did. He shared his history with me and gave me pointers for which I will always owe him a great deal. I feel that he molded me into what I became as a dancer. He made me realize that dancing was supposed to be, more than anything, FUN!

Hal – thank you. Thank you for passing the torch onto all of us, and trusting us with something that we know is very special to you. It is in good hands and everyday is still snowballing down from generation to generation, through the stomps and slides, and the air that is touched with excitement of partners overcome by music. You will be greatly missed, and we all carry much from our interactions with you, both from conversations in the middle of a bouncing floor, and the celluloid that holds the black and white where it all started.

It is a funny thing to talk about dance so passionately, but after thinking the past day I landed on this. It truly is a celebration, it introduces, it reacts, and it is a language unto itself. I feel that it deserves to be carved in the stones of this world. I feel blessed to have learned from the best. I hope to pass on anything that affects people the way Hal did. Hal, to me, was the definition of Jitterbug, and I will never forget the time spent with him, mimicking him and growing from his shoulders of greatness, for I knew that I could never dance in his shoes. He was the greatest to me and what I learned from Hal is this…Knowledge is to be shared, it is beautiful to spread seeds of wisdom and watch them grow in the generations after yours.

His Circle goes on and on and on and on. 8 simple counts can really change the world and spin for eternity.

—Christian (Thompson) Letts

[Many in the modern scene may not know of Christian. In the late 90s and early 2000s, going by Christian Thompson, he was known as one of the first great Balboa and Bal-swing leaders of the modern generation. He has been a notable inspiration to many of the current Balboa professionals. He also invented the move "The Dream" which is still often taught today.---Bobby]

I first went to Bobby McGee’s in the spring of 1996 when I was a brand new dancer who could barely do a passable swivel. Bernard Serrano took me there because Marcus and Baerbl were visiting. I’m sure I met Hal and Marge that day, and there is some very embarrassing video of me in a jam circle to prove I was there although I don’t remember it!

Hal and Marge really loved us “kids” even when we took over the floor at Bobby McGee’s and annoyed the other old timers! They were always the coolest because among the old timers they were the few that still danced fast, and to original big band music. They both have great taste in music, love and respect the musicians, and never let themselves slow down. When Hal saw something he liked in a jam circle he’d yell, “hoooo!” and if he saw something he didn’t he’d say, “what the heeee-ll was that?” but always with that big mega watt smile. Hal was always super grounded and normal – he understood the need to have balance in your life, had a loving family, and never gave advice or criticism unless asked. He also was free with his moves – I think he loved it that the “kids” adopted his Hal Roll, Merry-Go-Round, etc.

He and Marge were staples at Camp Hollywood and just about every other swing dance event around town. Even after Hal started to decline in the mid-00s he still made an appearance with long time friends Ernie and Stella. The thing I love most about Hal’s dancing is he always had his own style – Marge was saying the first time he swung her out in his own style (as opposed to adjusting for her) she nearly fell flat on the floor because his swing out was so different than everyone else’s. He was a contemporary of Dean Collins but was able to maintain his own thing, which is I think one of the many reasons he is such a legend to us.
—Hilary Alexander

“I had a huge collection of vintage clips and dance related material before meeting the old timers. When I first met Hal and Marge in 1998 out dancing at a venue called Music City, I will never forget witnessing Hal live in person still doing what he did on films in the 1930′s. Hal was always so cool and collected, while his wife Marge would engage in most of the talking. He never bragged about his dance skills but instead pushed others to improve.

What inspires me most about Hal is how generously he shared his wisdom about life back in the golden age of swing. He would always lend an ear and let us pick his brain about almost anything. I felt like I was not only given special signature dance moves but also a rich part of history. I was always happy to hear Hal’s perspective on life and dancing. He shared with me that since he was a tire worker, he believed in hard work, and that dance was for pleasure. His idea that dance should be in our lives, but not take over our lives. I still treasure his philosophy to this day.”
—Minn Vo

“The first time I saw Hal and Marge back in 1998, I remember thinking…”I want to move like that when I’m their age!”. Their energy on the dance floor was electric, fast, and would really get me hyped. When I first met Hal, he was so easy to talk to. I’ll never forget having my first conversation with him only to find out we went to the same high school (different decades, of course) and our birthdays were only a few days apart! Off the dance floor, Hal was always so cool and laid-back. I remember times when he wouldn’t hesitate to get up from his chair, walk directly over to us while we were dancing, and give a correction when he knew we were working on one of his signiture moves. He was so generous with his knowledge and one of the most humble people I have ever known. Every time we had the pleasure of seeing him, we were always greeted with a big hug and a smile!”
—Corina Acosta

Hal Takier was an exceptional dancer because he has always danced with passion and guts. I appreciated his straight forward approach to dance and relationships. You always knew where you stood with Hal, he would tell you like it was. He loved to make fun of us when we would dance one of his signature moves, the Roll, because Steve Garrett had altered it he would yell from the edge of the dance floor, “Stop jumping around like damn bunny rabbits!” And then later tell us that he really liked the way we did the move and give positive feedback.

He was a scrapper, a real competitor. He would often give us competition advice, one of my favorites was to tell us to do basics when the judges weren’t looking and then bust out the good, exciting stuff as they walked by. Dancing with Hall was the same, fun and exciting, and when a song came on that he loved, he couldn’t help but to start move and clap, his delight for the music was infectious. Even when dancing was hard for him, he would still grab a follow (I was always honored when it’d be me) and try it out, even if only for a bit, just to get the satisfaction of dancing to a tune he loved. He let music overcome him and he rejoiced in it thru dance, he was a true jitterbug. Hal inspired me to find, embrace and let loose the jitterbug spirit even when dancing Bal, and for that I will always be grateful. I will miss his enthusiasm and friendship.
—Heidi Salerno

My first memory of Hal takes me back almost twenty years ago. I used to ooh and aahh at him and Marge from a distance at places like Pierce College dances, The Golden Lion, and the LAX Jazz Fest, and many other outings I can’t recall, too shy to approach them for fear of being shooed away. An unfounded fear, since years later, when I finally found the courage to introduce myself, they were two the nicest kindest people I ever met.

Hal was a true gentle soul. He didn’t care if you were a dancer or a “civilian”. Proof of this was when my now husband was first introduced to Hal. The two formed an immediate bond over life, family values, work ethic and politics, but not before warning him that if he ever broke my heart, like the last guy did, Hal would have to *deal* with him. When my husband and I got engaged, Hal told him in not so many words, “she’s a good woman, she will need you to love her”. Then he gave me his approval: “He’s a keeper”. He also showed Rich a few Bal steps so that he could surprise me of our wedding day, with a wedding dance that didn’t look like we were in an elementary school dance. “Ya gotta show ‘er something!”

Hal’s advice was indispensable. The one that stuck with me the most was “dancing is great, but don’t make it your life”, and following that expressed his regret to have danced professionally for as long as he did (not sure if that was the catalyst for him and Betty getting divorced, I did not want to pry). He was also on my case about saving away money for my retirement: “Yes, Hal, I’m saving, I’m saving!”… Nevertheless, lesson learned.

Hal’s friendship was about more than just dancing: He was family. We would go out to dinner, sometimes hang out at their house whenever Rich wasn’t working, and even got to ring in a new year together a few years back. He was always full of tongue in cheek advice, and life’s truths full of good humor for Rich, with whom he occasionally toasted over cranberry juice cocktails. “Marge thinks I’m loosing my mind, but in reality, I choose to not pay attention.” [clink.]

As a dancer, unlike some of the other over-eager old-timers, Hal was class all the way; he never once butt in the middle of a dance to give you his two cents, even if it was one of his own signature moves. In my experience, he waited until after you finished dancing…. Or waited to be asked for input. “If you want me, you know where to find me” seemed to be his mantra. This past weekend Marge relayed how proud Hal was that Nick (Williams) and I had captured one of his moves perfectly. She didn’t have to say it: Hal’s smile from ear to ear whenever we performed said it all. It’s a smile I will remember forever.

There is so much to say about Hal, and not enough words to fill the Internet void. Other than to say what an honor and a privilege it was to have met Hal, and to have him as part of our family. My husband and I will miss him dearly.

“You’ve never seen anyone dance like him, and you’ll never see anyone else dance like him” ~ Marge

—Denise Paulino Phelan

Hal Takier was the greatest swing dancer of all time. And I mean that in the generic sense of the word, not in the specific niche of what he danced, which he called “Swing” to differentiate it from “Balboa” or “pure Bal.” Hal was just the man. No other dancer danced longer, harder, or faster. No one in Lindy Hop, No one in pure Balboa, no one. And perhaps the best thing about him is that he did it for all the right reasons.

As the swing craze died out, Hal did what he always did – he just kept dancing, straight through, for well over sixty years. He never stopped because of waning popularity or advancing age, never changed his style to suit trends like disco or even the neoswing revival, never got too involved in all the sticky politics of the scene that drove away other old timers. Hal showed up, he did his thing, and he enjoyed every minute of it.

So he was a great dancer, yes. But he was also a really really really cool guy. He had next to no visible ego about his contributions. He knew he was beloved and admired but to him it was just great to see so many people dancing. He was incredibly generous, he’d talk to anyone who came up to him. He talked to me for hours about dancing and I was an absolute nobody at the time, I was just a film student trying to make a project. But he opened up his home and let me in and gave me all sorts of great wisdom I carry with me to this day. It was listening to Hal speak that I finally understood why real jitterbugs didn’t care about moves or technique as much as enjoying the music and listening to the music and responding to the music. The number one thing he said to new dancers was to enjoy the music. The thing that kept him moving was the music. Just about everything was for the music. He also enjoyed dancing with his wife, it was one of the few things they could do together that belonged just to them.

There’s often a debate about what to call those of us who dance to this stuff. “Swing Dancers” brings up connotations of zoot suits and Cherry Poppin Daddie’s concerts. “Lindy Hoppers” is restrictive if you dance more than Lindy Hop. “Vernacular Jazz Dancers” turns off just about everyone who isn’t one of us (and many who are). There are so many debates and corrections about the difference between “Balboa” and “Swing” and “Bal-Swing” and whatever else you want to call it. But I always wanted just to be what Hal was – a “jitterbug,” someone who, when they heard that special boom boom boom boom, they couldn’t help themselves, they HAD to dance. That’s what Hal was. He was a jitterbug. He didn’t care about fame, money, status, winning, none of it (although I’m sure he loved sticking it to his competitors over the years). What he loved most was that he was able to dance and dance and dance as long as he wanted to to the music he loved. That’s what a jitterbug is. And because of my time with him that’s what I decided to be.

And now he’s gone, and my wish in his departure is that we all take a moment and figure out what it is that makes each of us jitter, and then go do that and enjoy it while it lasts. Keep dancing, keep moving, and don’t ever stop.

—Marcelo Teson

[If you haven't already, watch his documentary, Hal Takier: The Ultimate Jitterbug.]

I remember being in awe seeing Hal dance with Marge flying on the floor in a jam circle back in the late 90’s, and I said to myself, ‘I wanna dance like them when I get to that age!’

I was fortunate enough to have had the privilege to dance with Hal for the last 13 years and learn from one of the greatest original dancer. He has taught me so much and made me the dancer that I am today. I remember Hal teaching me his signature moves on the floor, and he’ll call out the moves before he leads them… “Now we’re gonna do The Roll… and Kick the Can… and Up and Down… and Round and Round… and The Shoulder…” I will always get so excited after learning a new move, and rush over to Nick or Jeremy and show them what I had just learned from Hal. So inspiring!

Hal was so kind and gentle with the follows, and never turned down a dance. Always generous sharing his knowledge and stories, and loved the kids! Hal is one in a million… and I will miss him dearly!!! I know he is in heaven dancing and watching us, saying… “Show me somethin’!!”

Hooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!

—Tise Chao

When Joe and I started dancing six years ago, we were welcomed into the Lindy Hop community by so many people. This warm spirit came from students, instructors, and old-time dancers, among them Hal Takier and Marge, with whom we’ve remained in contact ever since. Joe spent two critical years as a newbie dancer dividing work time between NYC and Southern CA; unbeknownst to his employers he actually scheduled ALL of his business trips specifically around Bobby McGee’s gatherings. He also went with the group (which included Dean Raftery, Barbara Rice, Ernie and Stella Rubin, and others) for pie and laughter next door at Milly’s each time (and I sure joined them whenever possible). The hospitality with which we were so quickly greeted, in fact, still kind of stuns me….but it equally feels like a natural hallmark of the joyous dance we all have in common. How lucky we have been to get to know these folks and learn about the dance(s) and their lives through so many warm conversations, scrapbooks, and filmclips. Joe and I are still happily keeping up those friendships, hoping that the newer dancers follow our lead and jump in as well.

As a sidebar too, I have to add that Joe and I have always viewed dancers like Hal and Marge as inspiring partnerships in life, on and off the floor, which is tremendously meaningful to us as a couple. Hal, using his imaginary fishing pole to reel in Marge in their classic routine, always makes us smile, and watching that clip of them dancing together is an endless pleasure.

—Heidi Rosenau and Joe McGlynn

“When the music gets goin, BOOM, I’m gone!”
-Hal Takier

What an appropriate self-quote that exemplifies the essence of Hal! As a dancer who came into balboa after the “oldtimer revival” I missed the chance to learn directly from the likes of Hal, so my inspiration came solely from videos. His embodiment of the spirit and essence of the music through his dancing will never be lost! Introducing new students to this spirit through old clips allows me to carry on the legacy. Seeing their faces light up at a Maharajah clip…and then be amazed at that spirit existing possibly more so in the Bobby McGee clips shows Hals ability to prove the spirit of the dance will never die. Just remember…Boom!

—Nelle Cherry

[So far in this series, we've discussed the Basic Competition Blueprint, as well as some of the tricks for watching a competition. Now we'll start getting into the deeper questions involved with judging. Also, please note, Part 2 of this series has been extensively updated since its first publication.]

Judging an improvised partnership swing dance is not a clear-cut black-and-white task. First off, there are two complex factors a judge is being asked to consider: expression and execution. Then there is the question of what it means to dance the specific dance form itself. If you’re judging a Lindy Hop competition, what MAKES it Lindy Hop, verses something else?

As we will explore in the next few sections of this essay, there are different judging philosophies out there, and the most important thing judges can do is find out what their philosophy is, and why they believe that is the way to do it. (For instance, if you judge half a contest under one philosophy, and then change your philosophy for the second half of a contest, then your results won’t be consistent, nor will they have a foundation to stand on.)

But first, let’s discuss what most judges see as an irrefutable rule, and I offer it here, dramatically, because it is a very important (and difficult) one to keep.

The Irrefutable Rule

I mentioned this in first part of the essay; however, I thought I would discuss it a little bit more. The irrefutable rule of swing dancing, as clearly stated in Aristotle’s Poetics, in English and everything, is this:

A competitor should be judged only for the dancing they are doing in the contest they are in. They should not be judged for how they danced in the past, and they should not be judged based on hopes for their future.

When my dance partner and violist Kate auditions for orchestras, she will often first come into a room with a curtain, the judges on the other side. She will not be allowed to speak; she will simply play her selection. If she’s wearing heels, they will ask her to take them off before she walks onto the stage. This is all to ensure that judges only hear her play that single piece, without any other knowledge of her. They won’t know her sex, her resume, or if they have met her before. It is, in a sense, the perfect way to judge how that piece of music is played.

Now imagine a swing dance contest where everyone had to wear paper bags over their heads? Doesn’t matter, you’d still be able to tell Skye from Kevin, or Alice from Frida. Okay, then try to imagine judging a contest with all of those dancers, and pretending you didn’t know who they were; they were all just people from off the street you had never seen before and who happened to be incredible swing dancers. All the hours you had spent watching those one or two favorite leads—you have to forget that. All the hours you spent hanging out with one of them, all of the times you felt that other couple got more awards than they deserved, you have to throw it all out. The fact that last week they killed it? Can’t think about it. That one follower is still doing that thing you’ve told her to fix a hundred times? Can’t let it sway you more than a stranger dancing would. The fact that you want to make out with one of them? Perhaps the fact that you have made out with one of them? You have to get rid of it. Because all that matters is how good of a swing dancer they are in that very contest in front of your eyes compared to everyone else in that same contest.

Perhaps you can imagine how hard it is to completely remove all bias, even if you are really working hard to do so. Imagine how much harder it would be to judge unbiasedly if you hadn’t even thought about it before? Imagine that clear conscious thought that says “they’re the best” and not hearing that barely audible, subconscious whisper: “Because I thought they were the best before they even started dancing.”

I do believe judging people strictly on the dancing they show in the contest they are in IS an irrefutable rule.* I also believe it’s one of the hardest for many judges to live up to. You could even argue that it’s actually impossible for anyone to really completely live up to it. (Luckily, that’s already been factored into the contest. That’s why you have so many judges in a contest, to dissolve the power of those hard-to-reach biases. However, sometimes there are biases so subtle and yet wide-spread that multiple judges are affected.) The mental battle of fighting biases is also one reason why judging is so hard for some, and why good judges are worth their weight in clipboards.**

Now let’s turn to what you’re looking for as a judge, which is another aspect of the basic judging philosophy.

Expression and Technique

As I mentioned earlier, the two fundamental things that are judged in art (including partnered Lindy Hop) are expression and technique. In other words, what they are trying to say, and how well they say it. In a future chapter, we will discuss a very interesting dilemma one specific Lindy Hop judge faces in his own judging; however, for now, it’s mainly just important that we mention it.

In swing dancing specifically, how do dancers express themselves? Musicality, styling and variations, move choice, the conversation between partners, showmanship, emotions. You could probably argue for a few others, but in my opinion those are the big ones. Now, there are very different techniques involved in all of these, which is yet another thing that makes a contest so complex. You are, after all, trying to compare the strengths and weaknesses of all of these factors, not to mention the degrees to which a competitor has each, and, finally, once you’ve judged how well they said what they wanted to say, you then have to judge what they had to say against what other competitors had to say. Thankfully, our brains are pretty good at handling complex stuff, and we do a lot of this quickly and often even subconsciously. (It reminds me of the note on “blinking” in Part 2 of this essay.) Still, there’s incredibly intricate machinery there behind the curtain.

Now let’s look specifically at the basic factors by which a swing dance couple can be judged.

You’re given a clipboard. You know HOW to look at couples, thanks to a nifty article you read once online. But now, WHAT do you look for? We’re going to start to answer this question with a Judging Philosophy 101 method handed down to us from West Coast Swing, though Sylvia Sykes suspects it was probably handed down to WCS from somewhere else. It’s called the Three Ts.

The Three Ts

The “Three Ts” stand for timing, technique, and teamwork.

Timing

Timing is not just good rhythm, though that’s a large part of it. Rhythm in small movements as well as big movements should be clear and match the timing and feeling of the music. But there are other dimensions of timing. For instance, advanced dancers can hit musical swells and changes in mood in time with the music. (It’s a sign of how much they are listening to the music and understand the music they’re listening to.) Their movements last the perfect amount of time; they are not too eager or so lazy they are out of time with the feeling of the music.

Technique

Technique is, obviously, the blanket term for how refined and skillful they are in accomplishing what they are trying to accomplish. Both good partnership dancing technique and good solo dancing technique make up this category.

Teamwork

Working together well as a partnership. (See partnershp below.)

One of the strengths of the Three Ts is that they’re easy to remember, there are only three categories to put everything in, and they vaguely cover a lot of bases. However, their strengths are also their weaknesses: Being vague, they may not be very helpful to a first-time judge, and they leave a lot of room for certain things to not be considered. For instance, musicality is perhaps implied, but not explicitly mentioned. It’s the same for a few other things. (Many of the judging sheets at WCS events actually have six categories on each competitor’s judging bar: timing, technique, teamwork, execution, choreography, showmanship.)

So I’d like to offer a different list of categories a judge can look for if they don’t think the Three Ts are their kind of thing. (Or, these can also simply be added to the Three Ts method. I don’t mean to imply Three Ts is a bad method; A skillful and experienced Three Ts judge could still be taking into account all of the following concepts within the Three Ts notes on their clipboard.)

Basic Aspects of Great Swing Dancing

So, what makes great swing dancing? What are the aspects one sees when they look at a competitor? I believe these are the main ones:

Movement and Shape

A major category almost every judge takes into account is a couple’s quality of movement and shape. One could say dancing, at its bare bone basics, simply IS movement and shape (“to music” perhaps you would add, in this case, swing music.) So what are the qualities of these things? First off, though they are separate words and ideas, I believe that in dance, movement and shape are entwined and cannot be separated from each other. Don’t worry, I’ll put the science down in a moment, but to me they are like the idea of space-time. In dance, there is no point to there being one without the other.

The quality of these things is kind of abstract: How they flow, both from where they were and into what they will be [movement], and their connection to what it is they flowed into and out of [shape]. How does a couple show this? How they generate momentum and what they do with it once they have it, how they pulse, the way they turn, the way they step, the size of their steps compared to other steps, the lines they make, their balance, transitions, their rhythm. Those are all aspects to the movement and shape. However, I think all of these still basically mean what I said first How they flow, both from where they were and into what they will be; and what it is they flowed into and out of. And, what cannot be forgotten, is how this relates to the music being danced to.*** (For instance, a master ballet dancer has incredible movement and shape, but wouldn’t look right dancing ballet to swing music.)

This also happens to be the aspect of the dance you can judge simply by seeing a swing-out. When you see a simple swing-out that blows you away with how incredible it is, I’d argue that what is blowing you away about it is the quality of its movement and shape. Movement and shape also happen to be tied to partnership technique: how partners move together and good leading and following are all entwined with it in a partnership dance.

I know for myself and many other judges, this is usually the thing instructors look for in level tests. Sure, knowing some snazzy moves and being able to pull off fancy lead/following is good, but if we only have ten seconds to look at you, we’re looking for only one thing, and I’d argue it’d tell us much more about you as a dancer than the fancy moves or the variation you’re doing. In fact, the only time a fancy move or variation looks good is when it is done with great movement and shape.

Whether they would label it as “movement & shape” or not, I would not be surprised if this is the most important thing for many other judges as well. For instance, imagine your favorite professional dancing couple in a contest with nothing but a group of beginner/intermediate dancers who have all been trained in five fancy-pants moves and one aerial, and can bust them all out to the music, and they are all having a blast and being very passionate and showing off for the crowd, but they still move and shape like beginner/intermediate dancers. So, picture that contest, and picture your favorite dancers of all time doing nothing but swing-outs, side passes and tuck turns. They’re not allowed to do any different footwork, they’re not allowed to do any other moves, they are only allowed to move differently through those basic patterns and change the shape of their bodies or the movement. Picturing that among those intermediate couples performing passionately and throwing each other around to the music, who do you think deserves to win? If you chose the great dancers who didn’t do anything fancy, then you might believe this is the most important thing, too.

[Note: When I hear the phrase quality of motion, I think of these things. However, as I did not invent the phrase, I can't claim here for certain whether or not it has a similar intent.]

Partnership

Partnership is basically all that “teamwork” implies in the Three Ts. Judging a couple’s partnership is judging the conversation the follower and the leader have in a dance, how they help each other attain greatness, or perhaps keep each other from attaining greatness. It’s about how they interact, how they listen, how they act to one another, and basically what page each of them is on, the ideal being the same page. What’s particularly interesting about partnership is that it is the only one of these categories that demands a judge look at both the leader and follower of the couple. One of the easy traps for judges to fall into is for judges who are leaders to mainly look at the leader in a couple, and for judges who are followers to mainly look at followers. And in all the other categories, it’s possible to get a rating on a couple by only looking at one of them; after all, a solo dancer can be musical, have good movement, be passionate, have good showmanship, have difficult variations, you get the idea. But to see how well a couple handles partnership demands the judge look at how both partners act.

In fact, it’s not a bad method to look at couples for partnership as a default, and then you’ll be able to tell how the couple falls in a lot of the other categories, without a bias leaning more towards either the leader or the follower.

Musicality

Though all the Three Ts imply musicality to some degree, musicality is so important that it probably wouldn’t hurt for a judge to consider it separately. As Frankie Manning said, swing dancing itself is a marriage with both the partner and the music. (“Which do you love more you know? Hahahaha!” quoth the Frankie.)

Sometimes it’s easy for judges (and competitors) to fall into the trap of thinking that it’s a quantity scale: the more musical you are, the better. But I think most would agree that quality is much more important than quantity. Dancers can be musical in both micro and macro ways. Dancers can be musical by literally interpreting the music, sure, but they can also be musical by suddenly becoming their own instrument and adding their own dance-riff to the music. Dancers can be powerfully musical by only choosing a few moments in their spotlights to be incredibly musical, and then laying back and taking it easy in the downtime between. Some dancers are 80 times more musical than others simply by the way they move and shape to the music. Now, just as a plethora of musicality is not necessarily a (+), the absence of it is not all it takes to get a (-). For instance, you’d probably want to put a frowny face next to the musicality section of your notes if the dancers in front of you are doing intricate, “musical-looking” moves that have absolutely no relation to what the music was doing when they did it. Some judges might decide spending so much time on micro musicality and missing all the macro musicality is worthy of a (-) on the clip board.****

Composition

Composition is basically the word to describe the overall effect of the moves and variations a couple chose to do, and how they transitioned between them. For instance, if you had never seen the California routine, and a couple went out and did it, you would probably be impressed with its composition. Three swing-outs and a circle. Okay, not difficult, but solid. Especially if they had beautiful swing-outs and variations. Then comes the kick ups, tuck turn, side pass, and all of which climaxed with a throw-out? Nice. Then right from there into a little crazy legs followed by that cool looking tango thing, and overall a big finish with an aerial? It had a nice balance of basics and hard stuff, it had a nice balance of subtle and flash, the moves naturally flowed from one to the other so that it wasn’t jolting, no moves dominated over the others (for instance, there weren’t eight side passes), it escalated excitingly, it was phrased well, (though that starts to get into musicality, but what is important to composition is the move chosen to fill the spot in the phrase that a move fills): basically, that routine had good composition.

Composition is also a relatively easy aspect to label with difficulty. So, for instance, take two couples who moved the same, were both equally musical and performed equally well. However, what if one couple did harder moves than the other? And first, let’s say that couple succeeded in those harder moves. You now probably have a clear winner.

But just to give you a challenge, what if that couple trying the harder moves didn’t succeed? What if they tried something difficult, but there was a stumble, or a noticeable hand fumble, something slightly off about it. Who should win?

Should the slightly-fumbling couple be rewarded for at least taking a risk, or should they who danced clean and solid, though not attempting something as difficult, be rewarded? (I will take this sentence to give you time to think.)

This is actually a pretty common happening, at it’s a dilemma that doesn’t necessarily have a right answer, so you have to make the call as a judge. Some judges I know always choose one over the other. Other judges I know chose within the context of the contest: for instance, if it’s a contest where everyone’s playing it safe, the one who made the mistake will be rewarded for at least taking a risk. If it’s a contest where everyone’s taking risks and failing at them, the one who gave good, solid dancing may get the reward.

Performance

I originally called this section “showmanship” but decided against it, as I think it has a connotation in the modern swing world that involves putting perhaps a little too much attention towards showing off for an audience. Performance, however, is a relatively unbiased word, one that hopefully would not lead to cheesy smiles and over-acting. Whereas things like movement, musicality, and move-choice are probably obvious aspects to judging the dance, performance is one of the more controversial ones. It’s controversial because of this: Though it is probably somewhere on most judges’ clipboards, some judges make it the number one priority of things to look for in a competitor, whereas some judges make it the last thing to look for in a competitor.

Basically, every Lindy Hop judge has to decide, ultimately, to what extent is competition Lindy Hop a performance dance and to what extent is it a social dance? The problem, of course, is that it’s both.

Let’s think black-and-white for a moment and imagine there are only two stances you can take on performance: One is that all competition swing dancing should be dedicated to performance if it’s in front of an audience. The other is that it doesn’t matter; it’s all about the partnership and the music, the audience are just voyeurs on a good social dance. (Not to get too deep into this, but it is possible for competitors to be so good at subtle performing that they dance a dance that doesn’t seem to have showmanship, but you do somehow feel a part of the intimate social dancing happening. Then you realize they’re actually being incredible performers.)

Both of these sides have plenty of evidence and logic to stand on. The side that looks at Lindy Hop as a performance dance has Hellzapoppin’, The Harvest Moon Ball footage, and the basic theatre philosophy that where there’s an audience, there’s a performance. The side that looks at Lindy Hop as a social dance only has to look at the dance’s roots in the ballrooms, the improvisational nature of it and most contests, and the fact that it’s a partnered dance, rather than a solo dance, for a reason.

The actual answer most judges have is that it’s both, but again, judges have different recipes. One might think it should be 70% performance, 30% social, and be standing next to another judge who thinks it should be 5% performance, 95% social.

Regardless of how much performance means to a judge, I recommend judges not just grade on the presence of performance, but on the quality of that performance. Don’t think of competitors as dancers, but actors: a great actor looks like they’re actually having the time of their life, they don’t just throw on a cheesy smile. A great actor actually looks like they’re blown away, they don’t just have an “O” face.***** Competitors and judges should also remember that showmanship doesn’t just equal “big performance faces.” There are some basic performance traits every competitor should be thinking about—not looking at the ground the entire dance, not doing your trick steps towards the speaker stand, and any number of small things that detract from the experience of watching a couple.

Even if a judge decides performance plays an incredibly small role in their judging, it can often serve a good use in breaking ties when a judge simply can’t decide between two competitors.

Passion

(Actually, it would perhaps make more sense to call this one spirit, but it’s hard to find a picture that matches it so nicely.)

How much does the competitor show the spirit of the dance? It’s more than just performance, thought it is certainly an aspect to performance. And, much like performance, this is also a very controversial category, perhaps even more so, and for the same reasons: some judges consider it a small thing; other judges think it is one of the most important factors in dance.

Everyone who watches Lindy Hop competitions can probably think of a time when that one couple went out there and really brought out a raw emotional energy to their dancing. They gritted their teeth, they hollered, they showed how excited they were, they seemed to be electrified, and everyone was yelling because it was obvious how much they were feeling it. Often times, though, these couples get too big, they get sloppy, and they get contrived. At what point does their passion become a negative because it actually limits their dance, or becomes the sole reason for their dance, rather than their dancing being the reason for their passion? It can be a fine line, but a line a judge should probably be aware of.

Then there’s the fact that a lot of competitors artificially use passion as a performance device. Now, it actually doesn’t matter if they do that or not—what matters regarding this essay is what it looks like to a judge. And just like every other aspect of a performance, a judge has to grade the quality of the performance. It’s not enough that they’re showing emotions.

One could argue that a competitor who tries to express an emotion and does so inauthentically, or with the hint of ulterior motives, is in a similar predicament as the person who tries a complicated move that fumbles, and the judge has a decision to make as to whether that’s a positive or a negative.

I also recommend strongly that judges remember that there are many different ways to show the spirit of Lindy Hop, that you might even say there are many different spirits of Lindy Hop and swing. Imagine a contest with Jewel McGowan doing swivels next to Jean Veloz next to Irene Thomas next to Whitey’s Lindy Hopper Joyce James. Jewel will show her passion for swing music through her power and grace, Jean will show her passion through cutesy playfulness, Irene will show hers through sass, and Joyce James will show hers through her joyful wildness. I’d argue that all of those are different spirits of Lindy Hop, and none of them are so far above the other that they should necessarily dominate the dance.

(After all, I’d argue that swing and early jazz music was almost always powerful, graceful, playful, sassy, and joyfully wild, all at the same time.)

Expression and Technique Revisited

Now that we’ve broken down the basic aspects of a dance spotlight, I’d like to jump back to the idea that judges are looking at two things: what the artist is saying, and how well they are saying it. Each of these aspects above will have those two facets. Sometimes it’s pretty clear cut. For instance, some dancers are often musical in funny ways—what they’re saying is that they find that part of the music whimsical or witty. If they make you laugh, and you know it’s on purpose, then they are probably saying it well. Other times, though, it can get complicated. For instance, in composition, a leader might be successfully doing very difficult moves, way more difficult than everyone else, but they all happen to be Todd Yannacone’s moves, and he’s not Todd. Another leader in the competition might have some only medium-difficulty moves, but they’re all original, made-up moves, and they’re pretty damn good swing moves. The former is saying he wishes he were Todd, and he’s saying it very well. The latter is saying “I’m trying to be me” and may be saying it just pretty alright. Now one leader having more difficult moves than another isn’t such a simple choice.

Putting It All Together

So, probably the most common and basic way of judging is to have categories like these in mind when you’re looking at dancers in a contest. You, however, have to decide which aspects are the most important for you, which ones are less important, and perhaps which of them might not be important to you at all. For some judges, the list of what’s important may depend on what the dancers are doing in the contest. In some contests, organizers specifically ask judges to reward one category over the other. As we’ll discuss in another chapter, the importance of these aspects will probably change based on what type of contest it is. For instance, guess what will probably be pretty important in a showcase competition? And what would probably be more important in a Jack and Jill final?

Now, remember from our chapter on watching and note-taking technique that you don’t have to go through a checklist with every competitor. You can use abstract scoping to get a lot of information (looking for things that stick out as good or bad), and then, if you need more info, you can begin using a checklist. But, let’s assume a judge was able to get a complete checklist based on all the categories above for two couples in a contest. Let’s steal that judge’s contest notes before ranks are added to it:

Now, let’s say these couples are neck and neck, but one of them must be put first. Assuming we have an unbiased judge, it all depends on what this judge rates highest in the contest. Let’s say the [M with a circle around it] is quality of movement and shape. If the judge puts this highest, then this puts couple 101 in a good position to win. But let’s say the judge is more concerned with Musicality [the musical note]. In that case, couple 101 didn’t do so hot.

If the judge put’s partnership [the P] the highest, then this judge has a tough decision to make. According to the notes, couple 101′s follower was obviously bringing the partnership down. The leader, however, was good. (I forgot to put a “Leader +” thingy, but pretend that it’s there.) Couple 299, however, had an “alright” partnership. So, how does a good leader balanced out by a bad follower compare to a couple that is well balanced, but not particularly amazing? For scientific sake, assume they are perfectly equal when all the facts are in (for instance, the leaders strengths are perfectly neutralized by the followers weaknesses). Some judges might reward the bi-polar couple, for at least having something above par. Some might discount it for having something below par. (We’ll talk about judging negatively versus positively in a future section.) Others might choose the well-balanced couple for being solid and clean, though maybe not necessarily awe-inspiring. And yet even other judges would just say they are equal and use something else as a tie breaker.

Now, if a judge puts showmanship [the star] really, really high, then couple 299 really has a strong chance of taking first. However, if content [the C] is most important, it looks like couple 101 pulled off some difficult moves very well, while couple 299 fumbled a bit, or perhaps didn’t do very difficult moves, depending on what the notation meant to the judge. Couple 299 also seemed to show a lot of spirit [!], which, depending on the judge, might help bump them above couple 101.

That’s a rough idea of how a judge might decide a winner, but in reality things are even more complicated, as many judges don’t put one of those categories supremely over others. A super-computer might be able to look at a judge’s scoring history and figure out that the judge tends to doll out 20% to movement, 25% to musicality, 20% to partnership, 10% to composition, 15% to showmanship, and 10% to spirit. Yet another judge might have 35%, 15%, 5%, 30%, etc. Obviously, judges don’t really bring a calculator with them to judge, but the results of a contest are often how those factors all relate to each other, often subconsciously.

I tried to give an unbiased take on these aspects regarding how much each category should factor into an ending score, because part of becoming a judge is deciding what YOU think. However, I do have personal opinions on these, and other judges do as well. I recommend, when talking to a judge after a contest, or when taking a private from a teacher you admire, asking them how they judge a contest, and what things are most important to them. Speaking for myself, I will be happy to talk in person to anyone who asks about this, provided I have the time and that person has the patience.

In conclusion: Sometimes you look at a the score sheets for a contest, and see that your favorite couple got ranked 1st, 2nd, 5th, 9th, and 56th depending on the judge. A look at other couples on the sheet might show that everyone else was all over the map too. When this happens, it is usually simply a case of a contest’s judges having different formulas about how the categories listed above are processed into their scores.

And occasionally—I’m not going to lie—it’s because a judge is smoking crack.

—————————————————————————————————————————————————
[Author's Note: Now these certainly aren't the ONLY ways to judge a contest. And these are not standard titles for what the aspects of swing dancing are. For instance, some judges might lump showmanship and composition and passion all together under one category. In fact, no one judge probably looks at judging the same way. Here is merely what I believe to be the main aspects of what judges are looking for in a contest. Also, a special thanks to Sylvia Sykes for looking over this article.]

—————————————————————————————————————————————————-
* — If you are a head judge who doesn’t believe this rule, simply have your judges jot down the names of the couples they want to win, tabulate, and mail out the trophies without even having a contest.

** — This is tangential, but still applies: A judge can’t clap for some people and then not for others when the emcee calls them out onto the dance floor. This isn’t so much a rule as good etiquette—if you clap for your friends, and then not for others, and then judge the contest, people can make assumptions about a bias in your judging. It’s better to not clap at all as people are introduced, anyway, so you can make your notes.

*** — A judge can NOT judge a dance in a vacuum. A dance is done to music, and the movement and shapes of the dance should reflect the music they are dancing to. It’s why the swung, pumped kicks of 1930s jitterbugs convey swing music more than ballet grand battements could. It’s why dancers dancing with a heavy Charleston pulse to smooth swung rhythms don’t look quite right. It’s why Frankie Manning decided to have a “running” look to his dancing. It’s why Bal-Swing is hard to do to Charleston music without simply making it Partnered Charleston with lots of spins.

****–By the way, I don’t mean to imply that I’m guilt free in these things. I love playing with musicality, and have been guilty of all of these infractions at some point, and most definitely will be again. It’s a good reminder that you should still judge according to your highest standards, even if you don’t always live up to them yourself. Ideally, you would give yourself a frowny face if you were competing and doing the same thing.

*****–Okay, so here’s a debate for another time, but an interesting one: Old school vaudeville performers, and several dancers of that era and later, might have had “cheesy smiles,” “O” faces and otherwise exaggerated facial expressions. How do you judge a modern dancer who takes on these characteristics to create the old-timey look to their dancing?

My personal thoughts on this debate are slightly divided. On the one hand (1) A lot of that came from “acting to the bleachers”—making sure the people in the back row of a theater could see your expressions, and, more importantly, (2) most of the best dancers of the day didn’t have those huge over-acting facial expressions—Frankie Manning, the Whitey’s followers, Al Minns, Jewel McGowan, Dean Collins, Fred Astaire, Irene Thomas (maybe a little), Nicholas Brothers, Leon James (mostly),etc. (I think Gene Kelly pushed it sometimes, but still did more good than harm.)

On the other hand, I appreciate the attention to detail and practice in going for that look and exaggerated performance style and would not be opposed to putting such dancers first in a contest. However, personally, if there was a dancer who showed a little more sophistication and “genuine-ness” in an equal performance, I would grade them higher. This starts to get into the deeper philosophies of judging though, as will be explored in future posts.

Funny (and related) story: In Marshall Stearns’s Jazz Dance, Al Minns said he first met Leon James at the Savoy shortly after the movie A Day at the Races came out. Al mentioned what a ham he thought Leon was for the smile and finger waving part in the dance part of the movie clip.

NOTE: (added 2:30 a.m. 1/2/12) I promise this is not just a cheap shot. Recently I did a video-interview with Josh Callazo, the incredible drummer of the Jonathan Stout Orchestra. The clip, which I will put up in a few days, coincidentally helps explain part of the joke above and how it’s actually something that I think is very important about swing. But more on that soon.

Also, I should probably clarify that I do not put modern jazz bands (Jonathan Stout, Boilermakers, Glenn Crytzer, etc.) in the category of “Neo-Swing.”

NOTE: (added 1:07 p.m. 1/27/12)

NOTE: Recently I published an interview with swing drummer Josh Callazo. This interview with Josh proved a great opportunity to explain the Venn Diagram joke and how it’s actually something that is interesting and important about swing (to me, at least).

When I think of “Neo-swing” bands, I immediately think of the names Cherry Poppin’ Daddies, Big Bad Voodoo Daddy, The Brian Setzer Orchestra, and Atomic Fireballs. Many of these were once-rock and ska bands who apparently learned everything they wanted to know about swing rhythm from the drum roll in “Sing, sing, sing.” (Note the common trend: start off with “sing, sing, sing”-like roll, then go into rock drumming when the song kicks-in. Repeat.) But these bands never mastered (or perhaps attempted to) the true swung rhythm, and I think watching Josh’s interview is a great quick way to start to understand the difference.

Even the “Neo-swing” music that was very well-written—most of which, in my opinion, was produced by artists like Indigo Swing— never had anything close to the kind of rhythm you would get from Gene Krupa, Chick Webb, or the Basie rhythm section, and other masters of swing rhythm. So, though there was some good pop music in Neo-swing, it was still “bad” swing because it rarely ever swung. Or, at least, wasn’t actually “swing” music by, some would argue, the most important definition of it.

Probably the biggest exception to this, in my opinion, are the Squirrel Nut Zippers. The vaguely “old timey” group plays with many different rhythms, some of which swing really nicely. However, what is ironic is that their most poplar and danced-to song in the Neo-swing era was “Hell,” a Latin-inspired rhythm. Also, Neo-Swing purists might debate whether SNZ was actually a Neo-swing band, or more just a novelty jazz band who happened to hit at the same time as the Neo-swing acts.

Now, there are other factors as well that help even good neo-swing bands fall into a “bad” category, like one-dimensional orchestration, uninspired musicianship, or all those cliches of two-tones, zoot suits, and martinis. (Very few neo-swing songs ever got around to actually saying much. Lester Young said more in a phrase with a saxophone than the Neo-swing bands said all together with instruments and the English language combined.) Basically, if you’re going to label it swing in a genre that includes Louis Armstrong, Ella Fitzgerald, Count Basie, Fats Waller, Benny Goodman, and Chick Webb, it’s going to have to live up to a lot to be considered good.

By the way, I’ve seen Big Bad Voodoo Daddy, Cherry Poppin Daddies, Brian Setzer and Squirrel Nut Zippers in concert. SNZ were exceptional, I seem to recall.

[unedited]

“P-Nephew-X”

The holidays are a great test to whomever tries to start a workout program in mid-December. There are cookies. There are family obligations, last-minute shopping and lots of good movies out. There are days of nothing but traveling, there are crowded gyms on rainy days, and there is little suitcase space to cram workout equipment into. There are chores to do, new toys to play with, plates of brown food to eat, and couches to pass out on. How do you fit a workout program into that?

It’s been a week of success and failures on that front, and a particularly great afternoon where I was dressed up in my workout clothes, yoga mat on the floor, and ADD nephews downstairs playing with legos and vibrating. I realized here was one of those moments where working out was about to take priority over life. So, I changed, went downstairs, and my little nephews and I came up with Winter Olympics, including balance tests and a rather heated front roll and play dead race. So, success indeed.

Workout: X2 Total Body

This is one of the strength building workouts of the “first phase” but really it’s just core exercises with a few weights involved. Tony does say the line “There’s Fire in the Buttocks!” though. Or is that a different workout? X2 core, this one, and X2 Balance and Power definitely start to bleed together. So far I don’t mind, as it’s just more of the kind of exercise I like: doing hard tasks while balancing.

Now, you don’t just do push-ups; you do them pushing off of medicine balls and bouncing off of stability balls. You don’t just do squats, you do them on one leg while crawling into a sphinx position. And you don’t just do pull-ups, you do them with crunches. Basically, no move just works one part of your body. But that’s right there in the title.

Most swing dance instructors technically only charge for instruction. The price varies, but overwhelmingly hours of instruction is the basis for pay. However, there are certainly “implied” tasks often affiliated with being a swing dance instructor.

When hired for a weekend, an instructor might be expected to do all of the following: go to several social dances, dance with students, do video notebooks of our classes, dress up nicely for at least one of the dances, perform demos and choreographed pieces, and judge contests. Many instructors have differing opinions about each of these tasks and whether or not they feel it’s just to expect it of them.

This essay is an attempt to explore those implied tasks as well as the many different opinions on these matters. (Though I am an instructor, and in particular an instructor with his own opinions on these matters, I tried very hard to keep this piece unbiased. So, my own little fine print: The views expressed in this essay are not necessarily the author’s own.)

Social Dancing in General

Almost every weekend event we teach at has at least two nights of dancing, often three and even four. If an instructor were to go to an event, and refuse to go out social dancing because it “wasn’t in their contract,” then I suspect they’d find themselves without work after a few months. This, by far, I think, is the most implied addendum to a hiring a teacher: “You will teach classes and go to the social dances.”

I don’t know of any instructors who have a huge problem with this. All of us know we are expected to go to the dance, and almost all of us go. Sometimes, because of fatigue or the fact that they’ve danced the last three weekends in a row, instructors will ask to get to the dance late and/or leave early. Most organizers don’t have a problem with this, provided the instructors show their faces for a couple of hours, and I think it also helps the instructors teach better the next day. For instance, I often tend to take things fairly easy on Friday nights, dance a little harder on Saturday nights, and go all out on Sundays, when I don’t have to worry about getting up in the morning to teach. I’ve noted many other instructors do the same.

However, I have heard of clashes brought about by special circumstances. One instructor I know was teaching at a weekend far away from home and got food poisoning. The story goes she was expected to go to the dance to apologize for not being able to social dance. To them, it was implied that her being at the weekend meant she would also be at the dances. Period. However, this was a unique happening.

Social Dancing with Students

A very important distinction to make is the difference between being expected to go to a dance versus being expected to dance with and ask students to dance. Mostly, it’s in the asking that’s the difference. You’ve all probably seen a range of actions from instructors. Some instructors show up and dance with one person eight songs in a row. Others show up, drink, and talk, and don’t dance much. Some ask students to dance; others might not ask students to dance but are happy to dance with them all night long if asked themselves. And very, very few will turn students down.

This expectation is particularly different from many of the others we’ll discuss because it doesn’t just involve something the organizer is expecting—it is something the student body is, if not expecting, at least greatly hoping for. (Occasionally, one will even expect it: I overheard someone at a workshop dance one time lamenting how rude it was that an instructor hadn’t asked them to dance.) Obviously, there are many instructors who don’t mind asking students to dance at all. Other instructors are more than happy to dance with students, however, they feel the students have some responsibility in asking them to dance—in short, if people want a dance with someone, even an instructor, they should ask for it.

Behind this issue are several philosophies. One is that you, the instructor, are always an instructor, and therefore you should dance with your students, if not just to be nice, then at least to show yourself as an asset to a dance weekend. Another philosophy is that once you get to the dance, you are no longer a paid-by-the-hour instructor but just a dancer like everyone else, so therefore you shouldn’t be expected to do anything. (I also know several follower instructors who told me they prefer the “old school” philosophy of having leaders ask them to dance.)

These are just differing opinions on the matter, and each in their own way has logic behind it. This one, overall, is probably something more for instructors to think about than organizers, and consider how it affects them, their happiness with their job, and their careers.

Dressing Up

Some instructors simply like dressing up swanky to dance. Others prefer jeans and a t-shirt. Some will dress in jeans and a t-shirt for a DJ, and swanky for a live band. Almost every instructor I know would be happy to dress up swanky on at least one night if an organizer mentions it to them ahead of time. “By the way, Saturday night is kind of a big dance for us and people are expected to dress up. Would you mind?” is a perfectly reasonable thing for an organizer to ask, many teachers feel.

Now, there’s dressing up, and then there are theme nights. Some camps and events have theme nights, often involving Hawaiian shirts. If an organizer expects their instructors to dress up for theme nights, they should mention it when they talk about contracts. Some instructors are happy to do so; some would prefer to just dress up in their normal dancing clothes. Some are traveling from other places and might not have room in their suitcase for a costume, or spare change to buy one. However, asking them about it way before hand is a sure way to know how they feel about it, and gives them plenty of time to plan an outfit if they choose to dress up.

Judging

Some camps ask you to judge only a comp or two, others expect you to judge many. And only recently have the non-competition weekend camps (those that aren’t ILHC, etc.) started offering to pay people for judging competitions.

The simple fact is that competitions take time. Three 20 minute competitions take up at least an hour of an instructor’s time, time that could be spent relaxing or teaching privates. (And that’s ignoring the fact that competitions rarely take that little time—there are also judge’s meetings, score tabulating, waiting for them to start twenty minutes late, etc.) What’s more, and is important to many things in this discussion, is that an instructor’s time in a weekend is of much greater value to the instructor than it normally would be. That’s because an instructor is working classes, social dancing, and additionals like competitions, performances, etc.—a moment of free time in a 12 or 13-hour workday is worth a great deal.

Though many weekends don’t pay for judging, some swing camps offer small fees per judges per contest.

Level Testing

I was at one camp where the organizer chose only “the most dependable people” to run the level test in the morning. And so it was that I and four other instructors had to run a level test at 8:30 a.m. while the apparently undependable instructors got to sleep in until 10, not run a level test, and therefore stay out later the night before, when the dancing and spirit was at its highest. We were not paid for it.

Though the organizer meant to compliment us by calling us “dependable,” you can imagine that the compliment failed to do its job. At a large camp, a level test is often an hour of an instructor’s time that requires the instructor’s attention and expertise. Many instructors feel that, therefore, they should be paid for it. How much, though can vary. Some think private lesson rates, perhaps some think full teaching rates, some may just put it at a low fee.

At smaller camps, level tests are often quick and not as taxing, and instructors may or may not ask to be paid for doing them. However, I’ve talked with several organizers who’ve had instructors come up to them and say “I was not notified I’d be expected to do a level test, and you’re not paying me for the time.” So organizers, be aware that this could happen.

Demonstrations/Performances

Demos are, on paper, great for everyone: teachers get a chance to exhibit, students get a chance to be inspired, and organizers have an added attraction for the weekend.

However, not all instructors will agree to do them if they have not been told before hand. Some instructors get nervous when they perform, and that’s an added anxiety to a night of social dancing and relaxing after classes. More specifically, a few instructors I know simply don’t like doing demos because they don’t dance their best in performance situations, and so they feel they are doing themselves and the camp a disservice by trying to perform. (It’s important, I think, for the scene to remember that incredible teachers aren’t necessarily incredible performers, and vice versa.) Other instructors might simply be annoyed because the demos/performances were not explicitly asked for or offered to be paid for when the contracts were being agreed to. But, there are a great many instructors who are more than happy to do demos and performances at a moment’s notice.

Video Notebooks

Sometimes it’s implied that instructors will do video notebooks for DVDs for free. Many instructors are now, however, adding payment for video notebooks into their contracts.

The logic is that —aside from the time it takes to do them— promoters make money from the DVDs because of the instructors’ material that is on the DVDs, and yet, instructors are not paid any royalties, if you will, for the creative material they put on the DVD.

Many instructors now charge around $40 for doing video notebooks for DVDs. If there is no DVD being made, most instructors do video notebooks for their classes free of charge.

Conclusion

When I first told my mother I was going to become a full time swing dancer, I quelled her anxiety by saying that I was often paid $100 to $150 an hour for teaching.

But that’s not really an accurate expression of any swing dancer’s salary. First of all, let’s add 5 or so hours of social dancing, not to mention the couple of hours getting to and from the dances and other venues. Add another couple of hours for getting prepared for those dances, as well as the airport traveling as a whole, which can easily add up to 12 hours or more per weekend. Now add the time spent planning classes, choreographing routines to perform, judging contests. All of these things the teacher has to do but is not paid for. After all of these factors are in, a weekend where a couple get’s paid $1000 to teach is not $125 for 8 hours of instruction. It’s really $25 an hour for forty (almost non-stop) hours of their time.

Trust me, I’m not complaining about my job; I LOVE it, and it makes me extremely happy. And I do love doing almost all parts of it that don’t involve waiting in airport lines—Kate and I love performing, we love social dancing, we love teaching, etc. However, there are occasionally times when we feel like we’re being taken advantage of—like when we’re asked to judge ten competitions in a weekend without any compensation for our time, for instance.

I wrote this piece mainly just to point out how implied clauses exist throughout the modern teaching community. Often they are not a big deal, however sometimes they are ways for organizers to take advantage of dancers by expecting them to do a lot of extra work for free. And, on the other hand, the unspoken nature of the demands means teachers technically have a reason for showing up at a weekend and refusing to do anything that isn’t teaching.

The super easy, fix-it-all alternative is for everyone to make their implied contracts explicit. If an organizer expects performances, judging, and social dancing out of their instructors, they could ask for such things when first approaching the couple for their rates. The same thing for an instructor: When an instructor gives their rates, they need to express what those rates will cover. It’s an easy way for everyone to know what’s expected, and for everyone to have a leg to stand on if someone doesn’t live up to their end of the deal.Then no fine print is necessary.

By the way… Thank you, thank you, thank you, organizers, for all your hard work. You make our jobs possible.

—————————————————————————————————————————————————

Michael Gamble, one of the organizers and founders of Lindy Focus, had this to say following the publishing of this article. I wanted to include it here.

This stuff is changing, and fast. Though the general outline here will no doubt hold true for a while, the details (“*most* teachers are willing to do this”, etc) are changing from year to year, and very strongly in the direction of explicitness and thoroughly itemized compensation. And for what it’s worth, I think this is the right direction.

On another side (not necessarily “the” other side), I’d like to point out that not all instructors are comfortable, eager, or even ABLE to interact on this professional of a level. There are definitely some who prefer a less formal agreement, who chafe at spelling out their needs, and who, let’s face it, do not like to write emails. (That was not a euphemism for “they aren’t very timely in their responses” — some actually don’t like it and can get surly and/or increase their demands if pressured to respond to a request) This is perhaps doubly true of many musicians.
So with those things in mind, I often find myself trying to figure out “at what level” each staff member operates, and try to meet them there, for practical reasons.

Though in the end, I think those pushing for increased clarity will and should eventually win the day…

“Priorities”

A few days ago the large box containing P90X2 was propped against my door. For those who don’t know, P90X is a 90-day workout DVD program put out around a decade ago that basically attempted to cover all fitness bases, and was also known for its lively trainer Tony Horton. Well, a new 90-day workout called P90X2 has just come out, and I’ll be reviewing it in addition to main Swungover posts (so for those of you subscribers who hoped the P90X hype was on the downhill and wouldn’t invade your privacy again, I apologize.) Also, I’m going to save my editor Chelsea from editing this series and self-edit it myself. But, you know, be prepared. Get a helmet or something.

Introduction

Guys, I’m not going to lie. I haven’t been keeping up with workouts much this fall, and, really, there’s not much excuse. However, I’ll go ahead and give you some. (And then debunk them.)

1. Ever since P90X2 was announced, I used that for my goal date of getting back into a program. But, it took a longer to come out than I suspected. First off, a program like P90x2 is technically designed for people who are already in shape, used to working out. Starting a program like P90X2 cold just makes it even more difficult than it already is. For instance, your tiny hip flexors—if those have taken a few weeks off from working out, you’re going to be toast after the first twenty minutes of most P90X work outs, and your big muscles won’t get much of a workout because of it. So, I decided I should prepare for P90X2 after all, and I began exercising again. I did a good job with that until…

2. I got so busy with so many other things. But that’s not really an excuse. It’s a choice. It’s a choice to put other things above working out. If you want time, you’ll find it. I remember that from the first time I did P90X straight through. Though, while I was busy, it was obvious that…

3. I couldn’t find the energy to work out. But, here’s the thing: Lethargy breeds lethargy, energy breeds energy. Though there have been days in my life where I absolutely despise spending an hour in that gym, the rest of my life is much more full of energy and concentration and self-confidence when I workout a few days a week than when I don’t. It’s not like working out makes you feel like you’re on speed or anything; it’s a very subtle feeling. One you sometimes only notice when you’ve lost it. However, it was true that I couldn’t work out for two weeks because…

4. Huge grad school assignments were due. Alright, this is actually a pretty good excuse, since doing well in grad school is currently more important to me than working out. However, in the past I’ve known workouts to clear my head and refresh me mentally. So, there’s a possibility it might have even helped.

Despite my excuses, the big box of P90X2 came, and I cracked open a coke and sat on the couch to watch the introduction DVD.

P90X2 puts you through three phases. The first phase (first four to seven weeks, depending on how long you feel you should stay in it) concentrates on foundation. The second phase is about strength building (another four to seven), and the third, performance (one month). The idea is that the more solid your foundation, the more you have to build on, which makes sense; it’s the same for dancing, the same for writing, and, I imagine, almost everything else you do. So, for these first few weeks, the workouts will be heavy in core and balance. Overall, almost all the exercises look like they will engage the core in various ways. For instance, push ups are now done mostly on medicine balls and tons of exercises use large stability balls. I’m surprised: the advertisements say P90X has evolved into something new, and it actually looks like it has. It’s not just a marketing tool.

Now, I’ll be doing the program, however I’m not going to stick to the strict 90 day program. There are a few reasons why. I think a list of the pros and cons of doing a strict 90-day workout program will help explain:

PROS
—Fastest way to achieve results.
—You learn a lot about how you CAN fit working out into your life, no matter what. In this sense, it makes you stronger, character wise. (At least, it did for me.)
—You feel you’ve really accomplished something by sticking to it.
—Some would argue it gets you into a habit or working out, but more on this in the cons.

CONS
—Creates in some the habit of “binging” your workouts. By doing so much working out in a row, the next thing you’re going to want to do is take a break, which you deserve after working out so hard for so long. Basically, it builds the habit to work out a lot, get sick of it, take a break, go back on a work out binge, get sick of it, etc.
—Makes you less likely to take a break when you’re near injury. The momentum one builds and the pressure one puts on oneself to stay on schedule makes it easy for many to put their goals above their safety.
—Working out so much all the time keeps you from having extra energy to spare for other physical activities. My original goal in working out was to have more energy and strength to do dancing and athletics. During my first run of P90X, the goal of working out slowly became to have more energy to work out.
—Increase pressure of being strict means an increase in guilt when you don’t want to or can’t work out. Too many people let guilt rule their lives in working out (and, well, in general), and a 90-day P90X program is HARD. So, starting it with pressure to do it every day for 90 days and failing adds a lot to people’s guilt and makes working out in the future seem like even more of a chore for them rather than less.
—Over all, fast results aren’t the same as lasting results. My goal now is to develop healthy workout habits that support my outside life, not take away from it. (To those who read my series on P90X PLUS, a lot of this is already familiar, as I was really trying to tackle these problems then, as well.)

So, I’ll be following a few simple rules:

Dancing comes first. My major physical priority is to become a better dancer. Though lifting weights and doing yoga will certainly help, it won’t help as much as actually working on my dancing. So, every day before I work out, I will think about how that will effect my work on my dancing. For instance: At Lindy Focus, I want most of my energy spent on teaching classes, dancing a ton, and preparing for performances. So I won’t be working out every day at Lindy Focus.

During workouts, I will do the best I can, then stop. And I won’t worry about it. If I did just five push ups when everyone in the video did 50, I won’t worry about. As long as I did what I could. In the past I’ve beaten myself up about such things, and pushed myself so hard that I could hardly walk the next day (more than a few times.) Those things make it even harder to go do a workout. It’s not a healthy workout habit.

Patience. Health, fitness, habits: they aren’t built in a day. Or even months. Or even in one workout program (though that’s a great place to start.) When I remember that even the greatest houses are built one brick at a time, it reminds me to not let impatience ruin my chances for success.

Working-out may or may not be a priority. Some days working out will be a priority. Other days will have different priorities, such as homework, relaxation time, etc. I may or may not get to working out, and it may or not have a lot of energy to do it. However, if I am honest with myself about what my priorities are, and have lived that day to make sure those priorities are covered, then I’m doing what’s best for me.

And that’s my ultimate goal in doing P90X2: To do what’s best for me.

(Note: For many, doing the program 90 days straight may be exactly what’s best for them. That certainly was the case for me the first time I did it. I spent my life as a lit/drama geek who thought doing such a physical activity just wasn’t possible for him. I proved myself wrong, and can’t really describe how important that was to me.)

Workout: X2 Core

The first workout you do in P90X2 is X2 Core, a relatively calm workout that sure as hell sneaks up on you. On the whole, though, I’m impressed with the new additions, which might at first appear like gimmicks, but actually provide just the type of workout experience I like best. The foam roller (more info below), the medicine ball and the stability ball are all used throughout the workout, and trying to balance yourself on them while doing push ups, planks, and leg exercises gives this ADD exerciser enough to think about while the minutes pass. At the end of the hour, I wasn’t very sweaty, but certainly couldn’t do one more push up on a medicine ball. I’m looking forward to the rest of P90X2. I think it’ll be my kind of workout.

Also, a note on Tony. Tony has, especially over the P90X PLUS and One-On-One DVDs, grown a lot more comfortable being a goofball, and it fits him really nicely. Whereas in the first P90X he could come off as a little too LA-Trainer-ish, his attitude on the first P90X2 disc makes tackling these workouts a lot more fun and inviting.

New Toys: Foam Roller

I LOVE. L.O.V.E. love the foam Roller. I had never seen one used before this first DVD, but the new warm ups for P90X2 are mostly all rolling around on a foam roller. I don’t know why I’ve never seen one before, and now can’t wait to use mine after long dance weekends. My IT band feels fantastic, and now I don’t have to wait for a massage to work it again. Good job, P90X2, not just going with a gimmick; you’ve already sold me on the foam roller. Now I’m wishing I had splurged on the one with the teeth.

Technique for Balboa Followers

Often when we teach private lessons with followers on their own, they ask how they can get better without a regular partner. Leaders get a lot from learning patterns—after all, they’re expected to master a lot of them to dance. For followers, though, worrying or thinking about patterns can be detrimental to their dancing. For a follower to survive in the jungle, it’s much more important to have tools. That’s what we wanted this DVD to be, a tool chest and survival guide on how to use those tools, all wrapped up in one. So, in the DVD, Kate shows the most important tools she uses to react in the moment so that she can follow simple to extremely complex leads on the fly, without thinking about patterns at all.** I also include ways leaders can help or hinder the follower as she practices using these tools.

Aestethics for Balboa Followers

While the Technique DVD is for the art of following, we wanted to gear another DVD specifically to the way Balboa followers style and express their voices. Kate wanted to go from simple to advanced concepts on how and why her Balboa looks the way it does. But we didn’t want this to simply be a DVD about how to look like Kate Hedin. So we made sure that we discussed many different options followers have, not just the ones she’s chosen. Finally, we wanted to demonstrate how a styling and voice come together, and so this DVD offers some moves that demonstrate the themes of the DVD.

Since a DVD can be watched over and over again, we wanted to create both DVDs specifically for repeated viewing and soaking up all the information over time. We thought Technique for Balboa Followers would be place followers could come back to if they suddenly felt like something was broken in their following. Suddenly your turns are all off-balance? Simply go to the turning section of the DVD and go through the checklist to make sure all of those bases are being covered. Aesthetics for Balboa Followers, we imagined, would probably be revisited as skill level improves. After all, the things we teach in that DVD are not just how-to-look-good tips, but grand philosophies—and philosophies can inspire you in different ways based on where you are as a dancer.

Since these DVDs were mainly Kate’s hard work from years of developing her voice, I’m not bragging for myself when I say I think they’re pretty awesome, and we’re both very proud of them.

I’m including links here for those who want to purchase them.

BOTH DVDs, Reduced Price $70

TECHNIQUE, $40

AESTHETICS, $40

——————————————————————————————————————————-

* — It wouldn’t be too hard to do something not done before in Balboa follower DVDs. Aside from a Balboa follower camp video notebooks, we are, as far as I know, the first instructors to make DVDs specifically for Balboa followers. Let me know if I’m wrong about that.

** — This concept probably isn’t new to people who have learned from Kate in classes. Her entire approach to followers in the classroom is to prepare them for the social dancing jungle. The DVD however, allowed her to put a great deal of information into one spot.