Hip young professionals, empty nesters and Grey Power members: we’re all going dancing – By Leonie Hall
As a single person heading off to a dance class, I recently hoped that the phrase ‘it takes two to tango’ was born in a moment of rampant co-dependence. Yet, with shaky hips and bums making such a comeback, I just had to go and see what everyone was raving about.
The Top of The South is immersed in a dance revolution and we now find ourselves heading off to evening classes in droves. While empty-nesters engage in a courtship of rediscovery, singles and couples are learning a new, subtle form of communication. Everyone is hoping to put a little bit of sizzle in their step.
Television programmes such as Dancing with the Stars have also vamped up our image of ballroom dancing. Tuesday nights on the telly have never been so hot! Just mention Dancing with the Stars in conversation, and everyone’s current favourites are quickly espoused. Nelsonian Samantha Hitchcock and her dancing partner, Breakfast show presenter Tamati Coffey, are frequently mentioned. And as luck would have it, the mountain recently came to Mohammed: Tamati’s ‘work’ saw the dramatic duo arrive into town, oozing all the glitz and glamour of TV celebrity.
Their arrival in a classic gold convertible, complete with television camera and paparazzi (well, one considerate photographer – this is Nelson after all!), immediately prompts reconsideration over my chosen attire. And while my non-ownership of a television is usually upheld as fairly virtuous, on this occasion it does me no favours at all. Before we have even met eyes, I am feeling like a barefooted hippy attempting to walk the red carpet.
Watching anyone attempt to dance the paso doble, tango or salsa after just one week of training is at worst embarrassing… often fairly inspiring… but always entertaining. For Tamati, a newcomer to dancing, competitive ballroom dancing has been a challenge. “It’s full-on, accelerated learning. You’ve got a short amount of time to learn a lot of stuff. But that’s the format of the show – to throw people in the deep end and see who swims and who sinks. Fortunately for me, we’re swimming quite well at the moment. But at any moment we could sink.”
For Sam, the move into television is a glamorous digression from her previous competitive dancing. “The dynamics are completely different. In a competition, it’s a lot more structured and you don’t get to play dress-ups like you do on Dancing with the Stars. You don’t have the themes as much, and you don’t get to play with it as much.”
However, Dancing with the Stars has also allowed her to showcase her choreography abilities and creativity. “It’s good to finally be a little bit more creative with my dancing. I suppose it’s a part of me that I didn’t know I had. I’m a very technical dancer. My whole life I’ve been taught technique, technique… and I’ve actually surprised myself with what I’ve been able to do.”
For all their glamour and associated veneer, Sam and Tamati easily recall being just a couple of kids having fun. While Sam was learning to dance, Tamati was putting on a show. “When Sam said she’d been dancing since she was five, I thought… ‘five?!’ I just find it hard to believe that kids have dedicated their whole lives to dancing and that they continue to do that. But, I think for me [dancing] is more about the dressing up! It’s all about putting on a show. While Sam was doing her dance classes, I was in drama classes. On the dance floor, I’m all about putting on a minute-and-a-half of a complete show, and for me that’s what dancing is all about.”
Sam and Tamati’s respective talents are an enticing match. And Sam agrees. “They’re a massive help to us, I think. And we’ve been matched up well personality-wise because I think we really complement each other. Getting to know each other quickly was also really helpful because it means I know when he’s tired… I know when I can push him… and I know when it’s time to end our practice session. I think we complement each other a lot and have a lot of fun at the same time.”
Without an emotional rapport, much of their technical ability would fall flat on the floor. “If you’re doing a rumba and just go through the steps, and don’t throw what you’re feeling or any emotion into it, then it’s just a bunch of steps. It’s really important to understand how a dance should feel, and you need to feel that to give a proper performance. If you’re not feeling the emotional side, it’s very obvious.”
With thigh-high dresses, a killer pair of stilettos and sensuous moves, ballroom dancing can be undeniably intimate and sexy. Tamati agrees. “The [dances] are all like that. They’re hard, you know… like ‘I’m the man and you’re my woman, and I’m going to do this to you’. So it’s not that it’s intimate and sexy so much as it’s intimate and rough! But that’s just what you do when you dance.”
According to Argentine tango teacher and enthusiast David Bagshaw, the intense connection between partners is at the heart of dancing. “It’s a conversation between two bodies without words. When you really get it right, it’s just a fantastic experience for two people.”
“Many people have experienced this now; they’ve had a ‘tango moment’. This happened to me in Buenos Aires. I spotted somebody I wanted to dance with because I liked the way they danced. I waited for my moment, gave them the nod and danced with them. I’ve had occasions where I’ve been in total bliss. I’d never danced with them before but we connected in such a way for three or four dances and… oh gosh, it just leaves you on such a high.”
David’s business Tango:Passion is aptly titled, and it quickly becomes apparent that Tango is as much about feeling as it is technique. So what does it give to couples who attend a class? “That’s interesting! It gives them a connection that they’ve sometimes mislaid. It gives them some kind of magic – the magic of tango! It does bring people together in a very unique way that I personally don’t think any other kind of dance does. Tango is really about passion at the end of the day.”
Raelene and Milton Norris joined the tango revolution last year. As a couple with five grown-up children, a weekly class gives them the opportunity to get reacquainted. According to Raelene, it’s also a chance to celebrate her femininity without the Western idealisation of youth. “I guess tango represents a culture that appreciates women at any age. And their culture loves women. In our culture, I’m invisible because I’m of a certain age; unless I walk into a shop with my credit card of course.”
On a scale of cultural maturity, New Zealand, she says, is still an adolescent. “When I think of developmental stages, New Zealand hasn’t yet found its identity… it’s still searching for it. Quite seriously, there is a gap between the life we live in this country and the lives of the people who are arriving. Hopefully, we can help influence that.”
Passionate Latin dance moves would not usually be comfortably applied to our image of the Kiwi bloke. So what has changed? David says, “I believe that shows like Dancing with the Stars have encouraged people to get out there and dance; especially the guys! Women generally love to dance; I think that’s an accepted fact. Some guys do but a lot of the Kiwi blokes, for example, think it’s not that cool to dance – especially the rugby players. Maybe they don’t think it’s a very manly thing to do.”
“But when, for example, Norm Hewitt won Dancing with the Stars, suddenly there was quite a sea change. A lot of guys said, ‘Well, look at Norm. He’s a strapping rugby player. Look at him!’ So it opened the door for the Kiwi bloke in general to give it a go, and I’m pleased to say lots have.”
Tango fever has also spread to Marlborough. David runs tango workshops and milongas (dances) in Marlborough, where there are about 30 regular tango enthusiasts. He also encourages his Nelson students to go over to Marlborough to support the events and integrate both tango communities. A dedicated group from Blenheim and Picton now make the weekly journey over the hill to attend his Nelson classes.
Drago Loncar and a carload of fellow ‘tangueros’ travel from Picton when time allows. “Usually four or five of us come over. We try to get a full carload to reduce expenses. And David doesn’t charge course fees for those coming from Marlborough, so the money goes towards petrol.”
Back in Picton, a few tango parties also help keep the local tango scene alive. “Last winter we had a few tango parties at Le Café, where people could have a drink and a bit of a dance. David and Mary would come and offer a few free lessons, which really raised everyone’s interest. They’re doing a great job at getting tango going and keeping it going.”
Dancing is also clearly addictive. More than 30 years after opening her first studio (the Peta Spooner Academy of Dance), Peta still feels the same passion for her chosen vocation. “I keep thinking I’m going to retire, but what would I do? I actually still feel the same about dancing now, today, as I did when I was 15 and started a studio. I had 40 students in my fourth year at high school. And I loved it. When I was young, I used to invite kids to my house to play and I used to make them line up in the lounge – three on each side – and make them dress up. We had a radiogram, so we used to put the music on. But I just thought everyone did things like that!”
Classes for five dollars a term eventually culminated in a career-long obsession with dancing and a school of dance that can lay claim to a number of outstanding performers. Teaching contemporary dance styles as well as classical ballet, musical theatre and theatre craft, Peta has developed an enviable reputation as both a teacher and choreographer. “We’ve got three students at the New Zealand School of Dance at the moment, which is fabulous. Very seldom does a rural community have one, let alone three. Nelson’s done really, really well.”
One of Peta’s teachers, Jane Pascoe, also happened upon dancing when, as a four year old, she would sit in the splits at the back of her sister’s dance class simply because she could. “I wanted to bounce around and be a bit more of a lunatic so I did jazz for quite a few years. When I got as far as I could where I was, I made my way over to Peta’s and started teacher training with her when I was 15 or 16. I started ballet then as well, and for the last 10 years I’ve been doing one or two teachers’ exams every year. It’s a huge investment of time and money – both of mine and my parents – but that was my tertiary training basically. Now I’ve got a degree-level qualification in teaching dance.”
To Peta, technical ability is extremely important. So important in fact, that the smallest members of her academy are given the best teachers available. “It comes back to teaching. If you don’t put a grounding down from a young age that’s technically correct, it makes for a hell’s-own job when you pick up somebody else’s student who’s been allowed to dance purely for enjoyment with no technical avenues. It just means that while a child may be talented, there’s a long road of patching to get them through. It’s really funny that people think they can do it easily because it’s fun. Although it is still fun, of course.”
It soon becomes clear that Peta and Jane are also sympathetic to the needs of their students and aim to give everyone a turn in the front row – regardless of image or aptitude. “Jane and I don’t need the accolade of producing the best students. What we need is to know that we’ve done the very best for them… that they go out and do what they want to do.”
“We’ve had some really successful students. Not just in dance but in life. All of the kids that have come through have done really well in their associated fields, and dance has been an added bonus for them to utilise in any way they want. We have a strong philosophy throughout the school that it’s not just about the dancing. It’s about giving what you’ve got and allowing other people to see how fabulous it is.”
Now it was my turn. One Thursday I take myself along to David’s class, resolving to be a covert observer. Yet his 21-year-old protégé won’t have it. Despite my protests of “but I don’t know anything,” I soon find myself standing awkwardly on the dance floor. To my own surprise, it’s not too bad. Before long, my apparent dancing ineptitude recedes for a moment so that I can listen to the subtle physical leanings of my partner. A break in the music indicates that it’s time for me to get back to ‘work’. And when the dance is over, I realise what this newfound obsession is all about: one heart, four legs and the passion to go back next week.
It Takes Two to Tango
IT TAKES TWO TO TANGO
Wild Tomato Magazine, 2009
Hip young professionals, empty nesters and Grey Power members: we’re all going dancing – By Leonie Hall
As a single person heading off to a dance class, I recently hoped that the phrase ‘it takes two to tango’ was born in a moment of rampant co-dependence. Yet, with shaky hips and bums making such a comeback, I just had to go and see what everyone was raving about.
The Top of The South is immersed in a dance revolution and we now find ourselves heading off to evening classes in droves. While empty-nesters engage in a courtship of rediscovery, singles and couples are learning a new, subtle form of communication. Everyone is hoping to put a little bit of sizzle in their step.
Television programmes such as Dancing with the Stars have also vamped up our image of ballroom dancing. Tuesday nights on the telly have never been so hot! Just mention Dancing with the Stars in conversation, and everyone’s current favourites are quickly espoused. Nelsonian Samantha Hitchcock and her dancing partner, Breakfast show presenter Tamati Coffey, are frequently mentioned. And as luck would have it, the mountain recently came to Mohammed: Tamati’s ‘work’ saw the dramatic duo arrive into town, oozing all the glitz and glamour of TV celebrity.
Watching anyone attempt to dance the paso doble, tango or salsa after just one week of training is at worst embarrassing… often fairly inspiring… but always entertaining. For Tamati, a newcomer to dancing, competitive ballroom dancing has been a challenge. “It’s full-on, accelerated learning. You’ve got a short amount of time to learn a lot of stuff. But that’s the format of the show – to throw people in the deep end and see who swims and who sinks. Fortunately for me, we’re swimming quite well at the moment. But at any moment we could sink.”
For Sam, the move into television is a glamorous digression from her previous competitive dancing. “The dynamics are completely different. In a competition, it’s a lot more structured and you don’t get to play dress-ups like you do on Dancing with the Stars. You don’t have the themes as much, and you don’t get to play with it as much.”
However, Dancing with the Stars has also allowed her to showcase her choreography abilities and creativity. “It’s good to finally be a little bit more creative with my dancing. I suppose it’s a part of me that I didn’t know I had. I’m a very technical dancer. My whole life I’ve been taught technique, technique… and I’ve actually surprised myself with what I’ve been able to do.”
For all their glamour and associated veneer, Sam and Tamati easily recall being just a couple of kids having fun. While Sam was learning to dance, Tamati was putting on a show. “When Sam said she’d been dancing since she was five, I thought… ‘five?!’ I just find it hard to believe that kids have dedicated their whole lives to dancing and that they continue to do that. But, I think for me [dancing] is more about the dressing up! It’s all about putting on a show. While Sam was doing her dance classes, I was in drama classes. On the dance floor, I’m all about putting on a minute-and-a-half of a complete show, and for me that’s what dancing is all about.”
Sam and Tamati’s respective talents are an enticing match. And Sam agrees. “They’re a massive help to us, I think. And we’ve been matched up well personality-wise because I think we really complement each other. Getting to know each other quickly was also really helpful because it means I know when he’s tired… I know when I can push him… and I know when it’s time to end our practice session. I think we complement each other a lot and have a lot of fun at the same time.”
Without an emotional rapport, much of their technical ability would fall flat on the floor. “If you’re doing a rumba and just go through the steps, and don’t throw what you’re feeling or any emotion into it, then it’s just a bunch of steps. It’s really important to understand how a dance should feel, and you need to feel that to give a proper performance. If you’re not feeling the emotional side, it’s very obvious.”
With thigh-high dresses, a killer pair of stilettos and sensuous moves, ballroom dancing can be undeniably intimate and sexy. Tamati agrees. “The [dances] are all like that. They’re hard, you know… like ‘I’m the man and you’re my woman, and I’m going to do this to you’. So it’s not that it’s intimate and sexy so much as it’s intimate and rough! But that’s just what you do when you dance.”
According to Argentine tango teacher and enthusiast David Bagshaw, the intense connection between partners is at the heart of dancing. “It’s a conversation between two bodies without words. When you really get it right, it’s just a fantastic experience for two people.”
“Many people have experienced this now; they’ve had a ‘tango moment’. This happened to me in Buenos Aires. I spotted somebody I wanted to dance with because I liked the way they danced. I waited for my moment, gave them the nod and danced with them. I’ve had occasions where I’ve been in total bliss. I’d never danced with them before but we connected in such a way for three or four dances and… oh gosh, it just leaves you on such a high.”
David’s business Tango:Passion is aptly titled, and it quickly becomes apparent that Tango is as much about feeling as it is technique. So what does it give to couples who attend a class? “That’s interesting! It gives them a connection that they’ve sometimes mislaid. It gives them some kind of magic – the magic of tango! It does bring people together in a very unique way that I personally don’t think any other kind of dance does. Tango is really about passion at the end of the day.”
Raelene and Milton Norris joined the tango revolution last year. As a couple with five grown-up children, a weekly class gives them the opportunity to get reacquainted. According to Raelene, it’s also a chance to celebrate her femininity without the Western idealisation of youth. “I guess tango represents a culture that appreciates women at any age. And their culture loves women. In our culture, I’m invisible because I’m of a certain age; unless I walk into a shop with my credit card of course.”
On a scale of cultural maturity, New Zealand, she says, is still an adolescent. “When I think of developmental stages, New Zealand hasn’t yet found its identity… it’s still searching for it. Quite seriously, there is a gap between the life we live in this country and the lives of the people who are arriving. Hopefully, we can help influence that.”
Passionate Latin dance moves would not usually be comfortably applied to our image of the Kiwi bloke. So what has changed? David says, “I believe that shows like Dancing with the Stars have encouraged people to get out there and dance; especially the guys! Women generally love to dance; I think that’s an accepted fact. Some guys do but a lot of the Kiwi blokes, for example, think it’s not that cool to dance – especially the rugby players. Maybe they don’t think it’s a very manly thing to do.”
“But when, for example, Norm Hewitt won Dancing with the Stars, suddenly there was quite a sea change. A lot of guys said, ‘Well, look at Norm. He’s a strapping rugby player. Look at him!’ So it opened the door for the Kiwi bloke in general to give it a go, and I’m pleased to say lots have.”
Tango fever has also spread to Marlborough. David runs tango workshops and milongas (dances) in Marlborough, where there are about 30 regular tango enthusiasts. He also encourages his Nelson students to go over to Marlborough to support the events and integrate both tango communities. A dedicated group from Blenheim and Picton now make the weekly journey over the hill to attend his Nelson classes.
Drago Loncar and a carload of fellow ‘tangueros’ travel from Picton when time allows. “Usually four or five of us come over. We try to get a full carload to reduce expenses. And David doesn’t charge course fees for those coming from Marlborough, so the money goes towards petrol.”
Back in Picton, a few tango parties also help keep the local tango scene alive. “Last winter we had a few tango parties at Le Café, where people could have a drink and a bit of a dance. David and Mary would come and offer a few free lessons, which really raised everyone’s interest. They’re doing a great job at getting tango going and keeping it going.”
Dancing is also clearly addictive. More than 30 years after opening her first studio (the Peta Spooner Academy of Dance), Peta still feels the same passion for her chosen vocation. “I keep thinking I’m going to retire, but what would I do? I actually still feel the same about dancing now, today, as I did when I was 15 and started a studio. I had 40 students in my fourth year at high school. And I loved it. When I was young, I used to invite kids to my house to play and I used to make them line up in the lounge – three on each side – and make them dress up. We had a radiogram, so we used to put the music on. But I just thought everyone did things like that!”
Classes for five dollars a term eventually culminated in a career-long obsession with dancing and a school of dance that can lay claim to a number of outstanding performers. Teaching contemporary dance styles as well as classical ballet, musical theatre and theatre craft, Peta has developed an enviable reputation as both a teacher and choreographer. “We’ve got three students at the New Zealand School of Dance at the moment, which is fabulous. Very seldom does a rural community have one, let alone three. Nelson’s done really, really well.”
One of Peta’s teachers, Jane Pascoe, also happened upon dancing when, as a four year old, she would sit in the splits at the back of her sister’s dance class simply because she could. “I wanted to bounce around and be a bit more of a lunatic so I did jazz for quite a few years. When I got as far as I could where I was, I made my way over to Peta’s and started teacher training with her when I was 15 or 16. I started ballet then as well, and for the last 10 years I’ve been doing one or two teachers’ exams every year. It’s a huge investment of time and money – both of mine and my parents – but that was my tertiary training basically. Now I’ve got a degree-level qualification in teaching dance.”
To Peta, technical ability is extremely important. So important in fact, that the smallest members of her academy are given the best teachers available. “It comes back to teaching. If you don’t put a grounding down from a young age that’s technically correct, it makes for a hell’s-own job when you pick up somebody else’s student who’s been allowed to dance purely for enjoyment with no technical avenues. It just means that while a child may be talented, there’s a long road of patching to get them through. It’s really funny that people think they can do it easily because it’s fun. Although it is still fun, of course.”
It soon becomes clear that Peta and Jane are also sympathetic to the needs of their students and aim to give everyone a turn in the front row – regardless of image or aptitude. “Jane and I don’t need the accolade of producing the best students. What we need is to know that we’ve done the very best for them… that they go out and do what they want to do.”
“We’ve had some really successful students. Not just in dance but in life. All of the kids that have come through have done really well in their associated fields, and dance has been an added bonus for them to utilise in any way they want. We have a strong philosophy throughout the school that it’s not just about the dancing. It’s about giving what you’ve got and allowing other people to see how fabulous it is.”
Now it was my turn. One Thursday I take myself along to David’s class, resolving to be a covert observer. Yet his 21-year-old protégé won’t have it. Despite my protests of “but I don’t know anything,” I soon find myself standing awkwardly on the dance floor. To my own surprise, it’s not too bad. Before long, my apparent dancing ineptitude recedes for a moment so that I can listen to the subtle physical leanings of my partner. A break in the music indicates that it’s time for me to get back to ‘work’. And when the dance is over, I realise what this newfound obsession is all about: one heart, four legs and the passion to go back next week.