Gotta Dance!

Patience is something I almost completely lack. I have itchy feet. Once I decide I want something, which, admittedly can take awhile, I want it now. It is probably this desire, this need to be in constant motion, which has steered me to dance.

On that note, I’d like to tell you about a scene from Singin’ In the Rain that really speaks to me. It’s the “Gotta Dance!” sequence, where Gene Kelly’s character, in a daydream, tries to get a job dancing. He goes up to a nightclub door, knocks and when someone comes out he sings, “Gotta dance!” and then shows some of his steps. It’s beautifully choreographed and showcases Gene’s and Cyd Cherise’s talents quite well.

This scene is really powerful for me, for on a deeper level, it tells my story. In my heart of hearts I’ve been a dancer all of my life.

Everyone goes through times when they ask, “Who am I?” The best answer I’ve come up with is that I am a volcano. On the outside I am cool, aloof, the observer. But inside, I am roiling with emotion. So how do I deal with that? I dance. I am a dancer. I’ve “gotta dance.”

Dance is more than a way to move, for me. It is a way of thinking, a way of being, a way of expressing.

I have always thought like a dancer. Movement is in everything, even stillness. I often recognize people, not by what they look like, but how they move. This really became apparent to me when I first got glasses. Gee, so that’s why they call it Impressionist Art! The world doesn’t really look like that! I had to rely on recognition of movement, or I wouldn’t be able to recognize a thing.

Being a dancer does not necessarily mean that others get to see you perform. My three and four year old self, while living in Africa, felt the rhythm. I loved to dance and move my body to music, which was all around me. I played my records, and I also listened to the Native drums. Listening to music can make any game or play time activity that much more fun.

I love to dance, and I always have. It’s part of my humor. It’s part of my speech (some people have commented that if they tied my arms down, I wouldn’t be able to talk!). And I’ll dance to almost anything. I’m just as likely to be found dancing to Tchiachowsky, as I am The Screaming Blue Messiahs.

Sometimes I wish life were a musical. I’ve always loved the musicals, especially those from MGM’s “Golden Era.” Ah! Gene. He’s my dance hero. One of my favorite musicals is Singin’ in the Rain. I think what I like most about Gene is his innocence and exuberance. In all the movies I’ve seen him in, it has been those two qualities that are most apparent to me. He’s the romantic youth. In On the Town (the movie that, by the way, introduced me to my dance heroin, Ann Miller) he was the quintessential young man smitten by love.

He has such control over his body. Even when he walks, you can tell he’s a dancer. Someone once said, if you are a truly great dancer, all you need do is walk across the stage. And indeed, a lot of dancing is just a form of walking.

Ann Miller, what do I like so much about her? She’s spunky! She’s a flirt! In On the Town she sings these lines: “He wore nothing but bear skin, bear skin. I really like bear skin.” God! What gusto! She plays the same type of character in Kiss me Kate. In the song “Always true to you In my Fashion” she explains that, although she flirts and goes out with other men, she’s nothing but true to her boyfriend. “Oh, I’m always true to you, honey in my fashion. Oh, I’m always true to you darlin’ in my way.”

I believe that anyone can dance, and look good doing so, if they put their mind to it. What really brought that home for me was another number in Kiss Me Kate. The two gangsters, played by obvious non-dancers, did one of the most charming dance numbers in the movie to “Brush up Your Shakespeare.”

If you get to know me, you’ll eventually find out that I’ve studied bellydance. But it is not the only dance I’ve studied. When I was little I took ballet for a couple of years, as well as modern dance and a sprinkling of tap (one of my all time favorite dance forms). Here’s where my lack of patience really comes in. The reason I stopped taking ballet was because they weren’t teaching me ballet! We just did some stupid exercises for those two years! I’ve also studied Polynesian dance, African Inspired dance and Flamenco.

I think it would be neat to teach bellydance to disabled persons. They may not be able to perform bellydance professionally, but they certainly could gain from the muscle tone and self-confidence that the art can offer. Heck, the upper body movement might even make an idea office workout!

One of my fantasies while I was growing up was to be the director and a member of a dance troupe I called “The Planettes.” There would be nine dancers, each representing one of the nine planets orbiting our sun. I was Saturn, my favorite planet. We’d all be dressed in silver and black, and our stage would be black with lots of tiny white lights. My costume would have lots of big rings, on my head, my wrists and my hips. It was all Busby Berkley-esque.

The ironic thing is, though, my fantasy has, in a round about way, come true. I once was a member of the Cairoettes, a bellydance troupe consisting of nine dancers. Our costumes were silver and our choreography was often inspired by Bob Fosse.