An interesting post about teaching dance

Sarah wrote this post Dance Teachers Shape the Lindy Hop Community in August last year, and it’s getting quite a bit of linky at the moment (mostly c/o Jerry’s FB page). I can’t believe I missed it when she posted it, but then I’m not really that surprised as I wasn’t exactly in the most organised state of mind at the end of last year.

At any rate, that post is just rippling with issues that resonate with me, here in my seventh week of teaching weekly classes and co-managing my own teaching venue, as well as continuing with my usual dancing commitments. I haven’t really read that post with a sensible brain yet (though that didn’t stop me launching in with a swear-laden comment – sorry Sarah), but I want to address some of those issues. I’m going to have to think carefully before I write, though, because teaching politics are far more complex than DJing or social dancing politics. I did do a chapter of my thesis on teaching dance, mostly making the point that the commodification of dance through classes (ie packaging up dance and selling it to punters in classes) is ideologically loaded, and I saw gender as a key part of this. How surprising, patriarchy and capitalism holding hands. Or they would, if they weren’t afraid they’d get gay germs. One thing’s for sure: the money involved in teaching makes it a far more laden topic than DJing. So I’ll certainly be coming back to stick my foot in it. And then in my mouth. Or my desperately over-laden metaphor.

Women’s History Month: Maxine Sullivan!


Geez, these posts are becoming a real trial. I am just too busy. No, actually, I’m just too can’t be bothered to do one of these every day. I just feel as though I’m listing all the big name vocalists of the swing era. Boooring. I had intended to do lots of research and come up with interesting women. But I didn’t. I suck a bit for that, because the women’s history month 2011 posts were so exciting and inspiring. I guess the difference is that I’m a dancer first, and a music nerd second. And I’m not that much of a music nerd really.
Incorrect. I’m a massive music nerd.

Anyway, to continue this tale of woe would bore us all to tears. So here’s Maxine Sullivan. If you don’t know her, you are living in some crazy town where nothing is fun or good. She did stuff with Charlie Shavers, John Kirby and that crew, so you know her shit is hot.

This is a song from her 50s come-back album with a fucking great band: Maxine Sullivan – Massachusetts (1956). You need to buy the Tribute to Andy Razaf album that I crapped on about here.

This is a song from that 1930s Loch Lomond ~ Maxine Sullivan ~ 1937:

The Social Life of Urban Spaces

I’ve been interested in William H Whyte’s ‘The Social Life of Small Urban Spaces for a while, mostly because it provides a nice jumping off place for talking about dancers and DJing, but also because there are some flaws in the work which make it worth revisiting occasionally. But I hadn’t realised there was a film version of William H. Whyte: The Social Life of Small Urban Spaces – The Street Corner.

Women’s History Month: Mamie Smith!

The first person to record a vocal blues album, Smith was a singer, actor and performer. Her 1920 recording ‘Crazy Blues’ was important for lots of reasons. It sold 75 000 copies in its first week and fueled a popular hunger for black women blues artists, which in turn shook the recording industry and race relations of the day. The song itself, written by Perry Bradford discussed the violence and experiences of black men and women in America in the 20s. Adam Gussow has written an interesting article about ‘Crazy Blues’*, and is interviewed about it here.

Crazy Blues – Mamie Smith and her Jazz Hounds (1920):

*Gussow, Adam, ‘”Shoot Myself a Cop”: Mamie Smith’s “Crazy Blues” as Social Text’,
Callaloo 25.1, Jazz Poetics: A Special Issue (Winter, 2002), pp. 8-44.

man on man grooming

This photo reminds me of Bobby White’s new project. Nothing homosocial about a blog full of pictures of hot guys where the women are entirely incidental. Nothing homosocial about bros checking out each other’s (fine selves) in fine clothes. NOTHING AT ALL*.

I found this photo on gingerhaze, but I can’t remember where. This is the link, here.

*And it would be totally immature to find this idea a bit sexeh. Totally immature.