Wednesday, October 31, 2007

Faster Learning: Vary Your Location In Classes

Do you regularly move outside your comfort zone, trying to expand it over time? You should, because widening your comfort zone and ignoring others while learning accelerates your growth.

If you take any dance class regularly, you'll notice this interesting thing about people: Most claim a certain location in the class as their own. After being in a class a few times, there is some comfort to setting up in the same relative floor space.

The regulars end up mindlessly dancing/exercising in the same location, in almost every class, unless someone new gets "our spot" before we arrive. They just don't know they have claimed our spot, but they'll learn. Some people get downright indignant if you move into "their" normal location. You'd think they were paying rent or they owned the space, like the fabled parking spot with your name on it. You'll see some people showing up earlier than normal, just to lay claim to their comfort location.

If someone stands in the front, they almost always stand there. If they hang out in the back, on the left side or close to the door, you'll see them there regularly. The same people set up camp around the instructor every class. We're creatures of habit and you'll observe this behavior in almost all recurring classes.

In jazz or ballet classes, if you go "across the floor" (a series of spins/turning exercises, with two or three people starting every 8 or 16 counts), once the order for going across is established, it's an unwritten rule that the order stays that way for the rest of the class.

In other words, if I'm first in my line, I will be first for every new exercise specified by the instructor. People who violate this unwritten rule are looked down on by others in the class. And most people who go second, in the middle or last, do so class after class. They get comfortable with being in the middle or at the end.

For your maximum personal growth, you want to vary your position in the class. Seeing the routines from different angles provides additional input for your brain to process, and it pushes your growth. Try the class on the right side a while, then switch to the left of the instructor. Going across the floor first or last puts a different pressure on you if you've been hanging around in the middle zone. Up close next to the instructor is a very different feel than hanging around in the back corner. Take note of your comfort location, and move to a new spot every few classes.

In some classes I'm very uncomfortable in the front, but I make sure I go there occasionally as part of my "Dance like Nobody's Watching" exercises. I'm forced to focus on myself, my refinements, and getting over worrying about what others think. Sometimes it's a major stretch for me, but over time, the results are worth it. Moving to a new location toughens you because you have to ignore those around you, who may be more or less advanced. They really don't care about me or you, or think about us that much, because they are there working on themselves. And if they really want to watch me (not likely), they could see me in the mirrors while I'm in my standard, comfortable spot anyway.

Staying in the same place may provide mental comfort for me, but it isn't the best way to learn and grow. If you attend a class regularly, avoid getting stuck in a rut and standing in the same location each class. Try moving around the room to different positions--you'll see that it changes your perspective. Get next to the instructor in some classes, and change sides in others. If you do this regularly, you'll improve faster, have more fun, and find new perspectives on some existing materials, making you a stronger dancer in less time.

The man who is too old to learn was probably always too old to learn.
-Caryl Haskins

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Contrast: An Element of Emotion

Contrast is one of the greatest elements of emotion. You can take advantage of that, making your dancing more powerful and exciting.

Theme parks invest millions on rides that start slowly, then practically throw you over a cliff before bringing you gently back to earth. Or they sling-shot you to high speed from a dead stop, knowing the contrast causes people to bust out laughing or wipe tears from their eyes, but they want to do it again and again because of the high it creates.

Opposites attract, and the wider your range, the more emotion you can bring to your art. Think of the quiet before the storm, watching large powerful waves crash onto the beach, the darkness before the sun rises, the last moment, big-game-winning comeback from behind, and in those events, the greater the contrast, the higher the emotional moments. Great music, great dance and exceptional love making all share the same concepts of ebb and flow, where the beauty and feelings are exceptionally strong if the contrast is very high.

Contrast your most intense moments with almost no movement, and your emotional content soars above those dancing with high (or low) intensity all the time. Think of the monotone conference speaker putting you to sleep compared to a dynamic, captivating speaker, who moves around the stage, varying his voice intensity to match the message.

Combining contrast with surprise and you further enhance the emotion. This is easier in a prepared dance, but it's also something you should consider for your social dancing when you have the right partner.

I've been thinking about this subject for a while, and then Edie the Salsa Freak forwarded this clip to me, and I love this routine. There is so much we can all learn from other dancers, even if they are not dancing salsa (this is often called "Rumba"). This is one of my favorite "contrast" examples outside of the salsa world.



When you watch the clip, they clearly aren't social dancing. It is an amazing polished, very professional routine, with two world-class dancers. That said, there is a ton to learn for social dancers, in terms of finding moves that fit the music, seeing some extreme examples of using contrast, and viewing pros who have worked so hard to make everything look so darned easy.

Dancing very slow is extremely difficult and this routine is a perfect example of using contrast to build emotion. Moving back and forth from extremely slow, controlled motions to a series of high-speed spins and patterns, they combine highly technical moves with flowing, long lines and create a beautiful, intense and graceful dance. With all their technique, they could easily do much longer, complex, fast-paced sequences during this dance, but you'll notice they "book-end" their fast moves with complete stops and very elegant, slow-motion moves. Those low intensity moments give their faced-paced moves much more power, as the contrast is so obvious.

There are so many "moments" where they hit a pose that reflects the lyrics of the music. Check out the face to face after a set of lady's spins on "...seal it with a kiss" that ends at around 2:16. Spin, spin, spin and end up with a complete stop on the word "kiss". Listen to the words, and see how many times you can see them hit a pose or move that makes sense with the music or lyric. You can easily find a half dozen in just a few viewings. They also add surprises, moving into dramatic spins and sequences in places I might have considered something slow and sexy.

(All timings assume your timer is counting up from zero... if it's counting down, click on it and it toggles.)

The sequence from around 2:20 to 2:26 is magic. It's set up beautifully by breaks or slow motion before and after, to heighten the impact of the fast, technical sections. I was surprised by the variety and the sheer intensity at points and how gracefully they transition between the feels. They probably spent months refining this routine, and make it look so simple at points. Wow!

From a social dancing point of view, we are also looking for our moments, where our moves reflect the mood, the music and/or the lyrics. You'll see that in a very slow piece of music, they integrate highly technical, fast paced moves, combined with almost painfully slow, highly controlled motions, and weave in and out of those feels. When social dancing to fast tunes we can also do the opposite, dance in half-time or very small to enhance our fast-paced, larger moves.

There is much to learn from this couple and I promise you, the more you watch, the more you'll find.

I only like two kinds of men --domestic and imported.
-Mae West

Sunday, October 28, 2007

The Bird Finds "One"?

This is a little out there, but you should check out the video below. This bird hears the time in the music. It may only be one song; maybe he can only do a few, but it's pretty interesting.



Note that at one point he gets off the beat, but you can almost see him thinking as he works his way back to the time. See if you can figure out when he is off, and what point he's back again. He switches the one and two around here and there, but he clearly hears the pulse in the music.

I'm thinking if a bird can learn to hear the beat in a simple pop tune, with all our amazing brain power, the rest of us have little excuse. Sure, salsa music is more complex, but that's why we have those big heads on our shoulders.

Check this out and let me know what you think.

There is only one rule for being a good talker. Learn to listen.
-Christopher Morley

Finding "One" Over the Wires

I read one of my e-mails and here's the question:
"Can you teach anybody to hear the beat in Salsa music? I have never been able to do this. It drives me crazy - it's the only music that I can't 'hear'."

Being the obnoxious, confident guy I am, I thought, "Sure, if you'll do the work, anybody can hear it." I’m confident because I've been successful with enough terminally time-challenged individuals via private lessons, so it seems like a safe bet that this e-mailer will simply be another one in the crowd. To date, I haven’t found anybody who couldn’t hear it IF they will invest some time; maybe someday I'll find the exception to the rule, but so far, so good.

It all started with my constant improvement mindset, and I was looking for interesting dance blogs and articles, hoping I'll find the cure for cancer and some detail or perspective that will enhance my dancing. I tripped over a site named "Great Dance", run by Doug Fox. After reading a few articles, I checked out his personal blog named "Dancing into the Future" and decided I should contact him.

I sent him mail complimenting him because I like his content. (And I recommend you check them out via the links above.) When I find quality blogs or sites, I let the authors know someone appreciates their work (sometimes you wonder if anybody is reading your stuff).

Being a good blogger himself he checked out my blog and told me it was the finest blog he has ever seen in his life (ah...no. But he did like some of my articles.) He returned my e-mail, and after a few back-and-forth messages, he asked me the question that started this article.

We had a couple more e-mails and he asked if I could teach timing remotely, without meeting in person. That is something I've never done, but because he's in New York and I'm in LA, we agreed the commute was a little too long for face-to-face sessions. Success in person is something I almost take for granted, but teaching music to someone over the net with e-mails, phone calls, WebEx and/or other Internet technologies presents a new challenge.

Doug was originally a little skeptical when he first approached me, but I think after our initial phone conversation, he's moving toward "cautious optimism." I'm not sure he totally believes we can make salsa accessible, but he no longer thinks he's terminal and doomed to life without a salsa groove.

My first assignment for him was to download the Susie Hansen song titled “La Salsa Nunca Se Acaba (The Salsa Never Ends)” and listen to the introduction twenty or more times. See “My Favorite Tunes: Part 1 of 367” for more details on that tune.

Doug and I agreed to blog about the process --each from our own perspective-- documenting our successes and/or frustrations as we work though the process remotely. My goal is to show someone how to hear the time, understand the song structure and be able to be comfortable finding “One” in the music without ever meeting in person.

We’ll keep you informed along the way and when we are finished, I hope to refine my teaching so it can be repeated easily with others and shared with you. I suspect you’ll find it an interesting journey. Doug has promised me he'll download this week, and I'll let you know how we progress.

I used to have a dog. And he was a good dog.
But these days, he'd be called a 'Canine American.'
-A. Whitney Brown

Sunday, October 14, 2007

I Can't Dance Like Nobody's Watching

Maybe you’ve heard someone say "Dance Like Nobody's Watching," and maybe you’ve already embraced it yourself. But I’ve noticed that most people who spit this mantra at you are already strong dancers. It’s easy to dance like nobody’s watching when everybody likes watching you dance.

I think that’s like the calendar girls who say “the human body is art, and showing it is fine.” It’s easy to be comfortable in a swim suit (or less) when you could be on the cover of Victoria’s Secret. And I’m pretty sure they haven’t seen me without clothes, or they would amend their "body is art" statement.

Recently, I’ve been thinking about the process of dancing without care or inhibition. In some venues, I do pretty well with that concept, but it isn’t always the case. In most clubs, there are a set of people dancing and a set of people watching, and I just do my thing, effectively ignoring them and focusing on my partner. In that environment, I know I’m a work in progress, and I’ve learned to deal with the discomfort of others being critical.

Frankly, I realize that most people simply don’t care about me; they’re focused on themselves, on their dancing, on their image. That’s fine with me.

As a musician, I learned a long, long time ago that when performing, someone is always in the audience saying “I could do that better.” In LA, many times there IS a set of stronger musicians in the audience, so I learned to ignore them and think, “Ok, maybe he could do it better, but he’s sitting in the audience. I have my strengths too. These musicians asked me to perform, not him, so I must be doing something right.” The more energy you spend worrying about what others are thinking, the less focused you are on your performance or social dancing.

Over time, I matured, and I suspect the same thing applies to dancing. You have to toughen yourself as you grow, putting yourself in situations that are not always comfortable. Over time, you realize that other people think about you much less than your paranoid ego fears they do, and you have to go through the experiences to get better.

I’ve had a couple times over the years where I’ve thought, “Maybe I should stop going to clubs for X months, and just practice on my own. The next time I show up at the clubs everybody will marvel at my progress.” Then I realize, “Ahhh, that’s not realistic; going to clubs and practicing is what makes me better, so just get over yourself and ignore everybody else while you learn.”

Of course, it’s easy to say that, but sometimes I’m still moderately embarrassed while working through different phases of growth. Being a work in progress means some days will be better than others, but nothing beats the experience of being in the arena rather than sitting and watching others have fun.

Here’s a simple example: Sometimes I’m in my car, and working on head, neck or shoulder isolations while driving or sitting in traffic. Funny thing is, I’ll often stop when I realize someone has noticed me doing exercises, even though I dance in front of hundreds of people per week at the clubs.

The exercise will help my dancing, and the car practice is good time management, as long as I don’t hear breaking glass from impact with those around me. I don’t know these people now, I doubt I’ll ever see them again, they can’t hear my music, and I’m actually making progress with my practice.

Why do I stop? What’s my problem? In that situation, I’m obviously too worried about them thinking I’m crazy or otherwise abnormal. When I take a cold, hard look, it’s obvious I shouldn’t care what they think.

If I actually continue my exercises, possibly entertaining them and giving them a good laugh, I’m making their world more interesting and improving my dancing. In a way, I’m giving them a gift, even though they may be laughing at me rather than with me.

Of course, if I continue and my dancing improves, I’ll have the last laugh. Someday all those car hours of practice will fool people into believing that I’m a naturally gifted dancer, rather than someone who practices good time management.

Think of them telling their friends, “Yeah, I’m sitting in traffic, and this gray-haired guy in his Lexus is grooving to something. I think he was on drugs, or maybe he was having a seizure, I almost called 911, but then I figured out he thought he was dancing and I laughed so hard I had to pull over and wipe the tears from my eyes. This guy is a hoot. Watch for that gray Lexus.”

So I’m on crusade: I’m trying to worry less about others, especially those who don’t know me. I’m thinking about what can I do to truly dance or practice like nobody’s watching, and give myself the mental freedom to occasionally look like an idiot.

How do we toughen ourselves, so we grow to our full potential? We can take different classes where our skills put us in the lower third of the class, then stick with it to become above average. We can read books about mind/body connections and high-pressure performance situations and find situations where growth is required. This may include doing a performance, going to new classes, entering a competition and/or joining a dance team.

In my case, I’m adopting the same dance attitude I have while playing music, plus taking classes and practicing.

We should also look for little things, like practicing shines in the line at the bank, or doing a few spins at the grocery store. The idea is to be bolder than you were in the past, doing little things in places where people will notice, knowing you have to ignore them and focus on refining your techniques.

For example, it would be easier to do our favorite, most rehearsed shine sequence while waiting at the bank, but we should also working on the ones that don’t always work, because the risk of temporary failure makes us stronger. Ninety-nine percent of the people around us can’t do the shines either, so if we “fail” temporarily, refine, and then get it right, it toughens us and makes us stronger dancers.

In some classes I've moved my location from hiding in the back, to being in the front row, someplace close to the instructor. I'm no longer in the middle of the pack on the "across the floor" exercises, instead going close to the front, or sometimes even last, which means almost everybody else in the class is watching.

It’s not always easy for me, but I do it anyway, and you should too.

I’m wondering what others are doing to toughen themselves? Let me know your thoughts and techniques.

I feel like I'm in a rut. Every time I go to bed at night, I find myself getting up again in the morning.
-Brad Stine