by Mary Jo
Last weekend, we went down to visit my sister in the beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains of Southwestern Virginia. Much fun was had doing a range of things from lunching at Chateau Morrisette , a lovely winery restaurant just off the Blue Ridge Parkway, to joining a trail feed on the Appalachian Trail. (Food figured prominently in the weekend. <g>)
Serious hikers of the AT, as the trail is called, have a strong sense of community. This is why people like my sister’s friends will go and cook a Dutch oven feast for northbound through hikers who started in North Georgia in very early spring and are reaching Virginia in May. The fellowship was lovely, and the hikers, mostly robust young people in their 20s, were very appreciative of good food (Lasagne! Warm brownies!) and a comfortable camp chair. Since two of the trail feed hostesses had hiked the whole trail themselves, there
was instant rapport.
But I digress. What inspired this particular blog was the Friday Jamboree at the Floyd Country Store, which is a sophisticated store with hundred year old roots. Every Friday, several music groups play for an hour each. The front of the story has a variety of useful items while the back has a stage, a lot of folding chairs, and an area cleared for dancing.
We got there just as a gospel group was winding up and The Jugbusters band was coming on. I’m not sure where the jug was, but the group had fiddles and a bass and they played fine, toe tapping country dance music. As soon as the first note sounded, onlookers leaped onto the dance floor—and the first ones there were men probably in their 70s. And let me tell you, those guys could dance!
In moments, the floor had filled up with people of all ages, and you didn’t need a partner. All you had to do was go onto the floor and start moving to the music. Some serious dancers had special clogger tap shoes that were very jingly, while other participants might never have set foot on a dance floor. Experience didn’t matter.
Clog dancing is a folk style, which means it takes many different forms, but a key is the foot work, traditionally done with hard-soled shoes (originally clogs) that are used to create a strong percussive rhythm. Generally the arms are relaxed at the sides—clogging is an ancestor of tap dance and is related to Irish step dancing. If you’ve attended a performance of Riverdance or watched a recording, you know the primal power of all those swift, noisy drumming feet.
The Appalachians were settled by Scotch Irish immigrants back in the 18th century, and they’ve been clogging for fun ever since. Now a mixture of their descendants and immigrants to the mountains were out on the dance floor in all ages and combinations.
Every second or third dance, a neon sign saying TWO STEP would come on above the stage, and that was the signal for dancing with a partner to a somewhat slower tempo. All kinds of partners—couples young and old, a very large man with an elderly but spry woman who barely passed his elbow, married couples, a tall teenager with a little blond about 8 years old who was earnestly watching the others and getting better with every step.
I managed to get my sister onto the floor to clog with me, and the Mayhem Consultant and I did a two step. Very badly, but it didn’t matter. It was great fun. The most serious dancers went virtually non-stop for a solid hour, pausing only between numbers. The evening reminded me of occasional square dances I attended as a kid in rural Western New York. “Swing your partner, dosi do…”
Since I’m a writer, naturally the whole jolly event got me to thinking about dancing and history. Dance has been with us for time beyond counting: dances for religious observance, to send pleas to the gods, to celebrate, to illustrate the ancient stories. There are signs of dancing in Indian cave paintings 9000 years old, and it was surely not young then.
These days we have the best musicians in the world on tap with the flick of a dial or a few mouse clicks, but historically, music came from local folks, and if you were competent on a piano or a fiddle or a harmonica, you were a valuable social asset. Get together a few people and if one or two can play an instrument, you had a party. The clogging, line dances, square and circle dances that are folk dance today are blood kin of the dances our Regency characters did.
Though I knew this, the dancing at the Floyd Country Store reminded me on a visceral level just how valuable musical skill was. No wonder our well bred heroines learned the pianoforte and the harp as girls, and a good voice was valued. When there are not CDs or radio, you rejoice in the talents of your neighbors. If you were a music lover, going to London to hear top level musical performances was joy beyond imagining, but the neighborhood girl with the lovely soprano voice was also a source of great pleasure.
Grand balls are a staple of Regency historicals—so much so that it’s easy to forget what special occasions they were, especially for guests from the country. The dazzle of lights, first class music, beautifully dressed guests—of course it was exciting. And fun—a chance to work off one’s energy and have a good time.
These days researchers have determined that physical activity is an antidote to depression that can equal or surpass anti-depressant drugs. In other words, dancing is joy. What better antidote to a gray, wet English season than dancing?
Balls have another great advantage for writers, and that is as a plot device. A ball lets the author bring characters together so they can interact. I’ve written my share of dance scenes where heroes challenged villains, simmering tensions exploded, and occasionally couples sneaked away for a heated encounter.
But most of all, a ball is a great opportunity for characters to interact romantically. Dancing has been called “the vertical expression of a horizontal desire,” and it’s so true! In a world where the sexes lived fairly separate lives, even the touch of a gloved hand can be intoxicating. Dancing was a form of intimacy that could be done in public, and a ball provided opportunities to meet new, exciting people.
And have I mentioned that it’s fun? <G>
A drawback of our media culture is that when programs like “Dancing with the Stars” show beautiful, talented people in gorgeous, sexy costumes, it’s easy to settle deeper into the couch and feel inferior. But dance isn’t just for the fit and fabulous. It’s for everyone. There’s a saying, “If you can walk, you can dance.” And that's true. It took the Floyd Country Store to remind me of that.
So what about you? Do you love to dance? Did you do it once, but it’s slipped out of your life? What are your favorite dance related memories? I’d love to hear!
Mary Jo