Tonight, at Todo Latino, we had a free Samba class,  from 19.30-18.30.

“Samba?” I hear you say. “But Jazzy, you write  a Salsa/Bachata blog.”  I know, I know, but (wo)man can’t live on Salsa alone, so we tend to have other teachers in from other disciplines to show our students a thing or two. The only bug bear is - that at this level,  you find that intermediate students either tend to take to the new dance swimmingly, or flounder like a fish on dry land.

Lest you dismiss our students’ efforts though, you have to understand, it’s a bit like speaking Spanish for years, and then someone comes to you and starts singing to you in Portuguese.  It’s all a bit white noise and static at first, but somehow, your brain then starts making associations and it’s on like Donkey Kong (what, you never played the video game?).

So, Samba.

It’s  the dance to the dreamy, intimate tones of  Bossa Nova. It’s your mum humming bars to The Girl From Ipanema;  remembering a time ago when summer stretched out till forever, and travelling abroad teamed with romance, liquid sunshine and a boy named Joao.

The Girl From Ipanema

If you’ve ever watched the Brazilian carnivals (Rio de Janeiro) and see the people dancing in a circle, or in a line, punctuated with steps in two beats  (you know, like when you do salsa, you do one, two, three  then a pause, then five, six, seven pause? Well samba seems to be one two pause, then three four, pause. But remember, I can barely walk and chew gum at the same time, so have a ton of salt with my observation).

Samba is a sensual dance, and from my eyes, it’s seemingly a lot more organic than salsa. There’s a lot more leg movements and and a fair bit of undulations in the core. A lot more pronounced hip movements too. Ooh la, la, la.

Back to Salsa. For the past two weeks, Wilson has been playing a song in the Improver’s immediate Salsa class, and it’s been one of the best songs I’ve discovered this year so far. There’s the high, sweet note of a flute (well, it sounds like a flute), the quick, changing melody, anchored by the deep, dum dum of the beats.  Every time that song is played, I literally try to force my body to dance the steps. Of course, it looks as if I’m in great pain,  hobbling this way and that. With my hunched shoulders and shuffle, I daresay look piteous.  Amanda, ever restrained,  gently points out that I’m not dancing to the beat at all,  but that’s nothing, really. I hear the music, and in my head, I’m a legend, with liquid movements, living in my body instead of doing the odd guest feature (like the odd run to the tram. Oy).

So you want to know this song? The song that makes me wish I could move, but it’s so good, that it tells me, no matter, as long as I love it, my soul is pretty much doing that ol’ one, two three, five, six, seven with verve and vim anyway? Let me present Pape Fall, African Salsa .

You’re welcome.

It’s May, moving into June, and the days grow warmer and longer.

The year isn’t so new. By this time, it’s older,  and slightly shabby. The promise is a bit tinted,  and by this time, there have been disappointments. By you to others, by others to you. Probably, you might have fallen off the exercise wagon. All that money coming out of your debit card every month, and you have yet to get to the gym. Or, this was the year to make new friends, and just get out of your funk.  The year is almost half over, you think, and as such, it’s too late for a resolution.  For change, and you find yourself resigned to more of the same.

But it’s never too late.

With todo-latino, every week is a chance to make a new beginng. To effect the change that you’ve been promising yourself ever since the New Year, and now in this not- so-new, slightly shabby year.  On Fridays, with the drop- in salsa taster classes, to make sure that you get the basics, with a warm and cheerful teacher that’s Amanda. On Mondays, every eight and four weeks, will be Beginners Salsa Lessons, Absolute Beginners Salsa lessons and Absolute Beginners Bachata lessons at Station Street, Nottingham.

If you do feel a bit nervous coming along and getting stuck in (dancing with other people), feel free to contact Amanda or Wilson for private dance lessons. Then come along, get some good shoes, and dance. In addition, you’ll see the entity which is the floor that Amanda keeps feeding,  and it will be good for your knees too.

It’s May, going into June, and the days are longer. Come and share the hours with us.

For Absolute Beginner’s Salsa Lessons, Beginner’s Salsa Lessons, Beginner’s Bachata Lessons, not tapdancing lessons, or ballroom lessons  or jive lessons, it’s todo latino

This weekend (Friday and Saturday, May 21 and 22nd,  the studio on Station Street will be closed so that it can be spruced up and the floor be fed and fattened up for Monday’s classes.  Yes, Amanda feeds her floor.

The first time she told me this in passing, I narrowed my eyes and drawled, “Oh, really?”

Amanda was all, “Yes, really.” As if it were the most natural thing in the world. As in,  ”This weekend, I’m cleaning the bathroom, doing the laundry and feeding the floor.”

I mean, if it had been me, and I told you that I would be spending  all of my Providence given  weekend feeding a floor,  I’d tuck my head in my shoulder, look at the ground while tracing figure eights with my toe at the ground, sotto voce, “And you?”

But no, Amanda said it so matter of factly, I could only admire.

I do remember asking her if her floor was vegan (ha, ha, ha, I kill me. Try the veal, chaps, I’ll be here all night ), and Amanda calmly and gently explained that the thing with wooden floors, is that they tend to be porous. When they get too dry, and you dance on them, they tend to be slippery underfoot. So feeding the floor gives it enough grip so when you dance, there isn’t the threat of an accident.

Huh.

Every time I speak to Amanda, I feel as if I’m watching a PSA of GI-JOE - “Now, I know!”

“And knowing is half the battle.”

“GI-JOE!”

I’m not the only one who remembers that old cartoon? I digress.

Come Monday, there will be new slots of classes, and another chance for you to get up, and come out to dance with us.

Tell me, have you been practising? I must admit, that sometimes, when I’m home alone, I do do my basic. I tend to lower my voice and try to have that intimate, avuncular tone David Attenborough has. You know the one, when the camera zooms into the nest of the Animal of The Day, and there’s a metaphorical drawing of the curtains on to the animal world. David Attenborough says, “Now, look at the mother wildebeast, how she herds her children towards her, at the threat of the lion. Yes. Another day in the animal kingdom.”

I tend to murmur to myself, “Now, we’re observing the clusimous jazzster, and look how she tries to do her basic. Can she do it? One, two, three… will she pause? Yes, wait for it. She steps. Oh no, she’s frozen. Will she complete the basic? Five, six, seven - yes. It’s done for another time. Oh oh… now she’s stopped, confused. She doesn’t know her mambo from her rhumba.”

If you’re new and reading this, come on down, I’m sure you’ll do better than me.

I’m trying to get youtube vids embedded in this bad boy. I have been making videos and I am so wanting to share them with you!

Will you stop by? Come on up to our classes and say hi? I’ll be there, knowing that you’ll have a better time of it and make me jealous.

Or, at least, you won’t have your inner Attenborough narrating your every move.

Practise, my amigos! Speak soon!

Hello, chaps.

Remember that tonight’s the night we dance at the updown bar. There will be activities like beginner’s Bugaloo and beginner’s Salsa classes. I thought that we could probably talk about what shoes you should wear.

For women, the guidelines are, if you can’t walk at a trot in the dance shoes, you can’t dance in them, either. We also frown on stilettos, because the pressure per square inch is lethal.  It creates holes in  wooden floors, and if you dance with your feet just swinging out all over the place, you might find your heel in someone’s calf.

So, some women at our dance classes wear these:

flat, comfortable shoes with a flexible sole

A flat, comfortable canvas shoe, with a flexible sole. There is enough grip to make your steps be firm, and its comfortable enough for you to go at a trot. Also, if you’re just starting to learn how to dance, you can do the steps until they feel comfortable, almost like muscle memory, and then you can move on to short, court heels. But look at this shoe - in the US, they’d be more referred to as a keds shoe, over here, I think the term is plimsoles? The point is, the woman can be led, and can turn and move at a faster pace without her falling flat on her face.

Other women, though, might not want to learn to dance in canvas rubber soled shoes.  There are many reasons for this. Number one, shoes with higher heels, force you to stand on the balls of your feet. Already, since your feet are at an angle to the floor, it will force you to lift and move.  In addition, nothing beats the silhouette of a higher heel.

Short heels, with leather sole.

In addition, with a higher heel, once you put on your dance shoes, and they are ‘dance shoes’ your mind and body go into a different place, and you are ready to move.

Let us look at the shoe, shall we? The leather soles are flexible - which is important, because uncomfortable shoes are the devil’s work. The straps should be supple enough for give and movement with the muscles of your feet. The heels aren’t stiletto, but more short and stacked, like sensible shoes. You want shoes that should be comfortable enough for you to run down the stairs in, if there should be a fire. You also want shoes that you should be able to twirl and turn in. Stilettos don’t suit, not at all.

As it is, right now, if you wish to get shoes to dance in, ask Amanda, and she can recommend you a few brands. Some prices go from A-OK to”Hahahaha, no!”  ridiculous. There are some brands which are better than others, so you need to have a care about that too.

Are there any brands that you like? Tell me,  oh mighty posters. Until next time, practise, practise, practise!