On the Culture Front…

The Art of Social Dance: A Revival of True Culture

By Kate Larson

Irecently attended my second barn dance in the span of a month. There’s something so delightfully old-fashioned yet timeless about stepping from a crisp, dark autumn evening into the light of a warm, bright room filled with groups of laughing people, dancing to live folk music. You feel as though you’ve stepped into a secret – because that sort of thing just doesn’t happen anymore in our age of technological alternativerealities and anti-culture. People don’t do things together, especially not in a personal or communal way.

These particular dances have been the initiative of a group of brothers from our parish and a friend of theirs, aged thirteen to twenty, who wanted to do something real with their compatriots.

They felt they lacked outlets for socializing with their friends in a meaningful way, so they turned to dancing. They already had a bluegrass band, the Misty Mountain Boys, so live, traditional folk music was covered; all they needed were a place to dance and a caller, and those were procured shortly in the form of a hundred-year-old schoolhouse and a short, small man with a very large mustache.

The first dance was a tremendous success. As the caller announced the beginning of the dance, there was a moment of anxiety: Will anyone actually dance? Will this work? Is it going to be awkward? A few brave couples formed squares, and the dance began. It worked.

There wasn’t another awkward moment, and the small schoolhouse filled with dancers of all ages, from toddlers to grandparents (though two-thirds of the dancers were under twenty-five). We spent the evening doing square dances, circle dances, line dances, and even the occasional waltz or polka. Everyone seemed happy, and it was remarkable to watch the cooperation between individuals and the sense of community that the dance created. Because of the great success of the first dance, the Misty Mountain Boys hosted another two weeks later, and despite the fact that they advertised less, even more people came.

Why, I have to ask myself, have these dances been so successful? What is it about them that seems to appeal to people so much? I think it has to do with the true culture and the social order implicit within them. Social dance offers a beautiful model for the way in which a community should interact.

Interaction between Individuals

Clearly, even a group dance is built around individual couples, so there are many lessons about interacting with others (especially of the opposite sex) to be gleaned from social dance. On a very basic, practical level, social dance teaches men and women courtesy towards one another: men are to ask women to dance with them (not simply assume they’re willing) and women, in turn, are to respond graciously to such requests. At both the beginning and the end of most dances, the men and women bow to one another, indicating an acknowledgement of, and a respect for, the other person – both very important virtues to develop in an age which promotes informality, disrespect, and objectification of the opposite sex.

Finally, at the end of the dance, the gentleman traditionally escorts the lady off of the dance floor, symbolizing the man’s role as provider and caretaker.

These customs allow for proprietous, respectful interactions with the opposite gender – an opportunity sorely lacking in our society.

Social dance also reflects the proper roles of husband and wife: in both marriage and dance, the man has to lead, and the woman has to let him. Neither of these is a particularly easy task in our age of emasculation, feminism, and the resulting confusion about gender roles.

Generally, women tend to be better dancers than men (don’t ask me why this is) and are more than capable of leading if the man can’t or won’t – just as most women can and will lead a family if their husbands refuse to.

When a woman leads, the dance goes along smoothly enough and no one bumps into anyone else, but it lacks a bit of its potential grace and spirit.

However, when a man leads (and the women relinquishes control), they can each dance with greater ease and pay more attention to the details and form of the dance because both partners are doing what they’re supposed to be doing (and not compensating for a lack in the other). The dance becomes much more impressive and beautiful since it’s working the way it was designed to work. Just so, a marriage becomes much more smooth and virtuous when the man takes up his role as leader of the family because it, too, is working as it was designed to work.

The couple-centric nature of social dance not only mirrors the Catholic idea of the relationship between men and women, but also the Catholic concept of society: just as the most fundamental unit of society is the family (which begins with the husband and wife), so the most fundamental unit of the social dance is the couple (traditionally a man and a woman). However, this smallest unit cannot separate itself from the group of dancers as a whole; the couple must see themselves as a part of the larger society and must conduct themselves in a way conducive to the success of the dance as a whole – not just their individual whims. This is symbolized within the dance itself by the fact that, at the beginning and end of each, not only does one bow to one’s partner, but also to the "corner," i.e. the person on your other side.

If the couple forgets that they’re dancing with other couples, they will collide and everyone will end up hopelessly confused (not to mention sore). This should ring a bell in the Catholic mind: a husband and wife (or even yet-unmarried lovers) must see themselves in the context of the larger society; they cannot be so individualistic that they no longer recognize that their actions have an impact on the community around them.

In fact, it is upon them, the smallest unit of society, that the community is based.

Interaction between Generations

One of the most beautiful things to see at these barn dances was the way in which generations interacted. Because such dances are rare in our day, most of the younger people had no experience whatsoever, but not so for the older crowd. Many of our grandparents grew up dancing. Thus, people of their generation were able to teach the young how to dance – and the young, in turn, gave the older generations a reason to dance. Barn dancing is a tradition, and as such, it is meant to be passed on from one generation to the next. In fact, it has to be in order to survive. These dances were possible not only because the older generations had something to teach, but because the younger generations were willing to learn.

Most of our society distains tradition in all its forms, instead looking always to the newest trend and entirely rejecting the things of the past – including previous generations. Thus, our culture has a tendency to shove the elderly "under the rug," scoffing at their wisdom, refusing its duties towards them, and eventually hiding them away in nursing homes. What could someone from an older generation possibly have to teach us? I mean, they don't even know how to use a cell phone!

Social dance, however, clearly disproves the assumption that those outside one’s peer group are "boring" or "ignorant" or "just don’t get it." Rather, here in this tiny, old, one-room schoolhouse, most of the knowledge and ability lay with the older people in the room, not the twentysomethings. On a very basic level, if the dances were to be made up entirely of the young and we didn’t have an older, experienced caller giving us directions, we would be completely lost. Thus, because we were learning the dances from an older generation, a dynamic of respect for their greater knowledge arose amongst the young folk.

This parallels the proper attitude towards our elders in all situations. They often do know more than we, and we can learn a great deal from their experience if we’re willing to listen. The idea that one should primarily associate with one’s peers pervades society, but why would we intentionally place ourselves in a situation of "the blind leading the blind" when we could much more easily learn the answers to many of life’s riddles from those who have lived longer? Most of us owe a great deal of our knowledge and even our material situation to our elders who have prepared the way for us and handed down to us the wisdom of generations. Even when this isn’t the case, they still deserve our respect as representing those who have struggled longer in this "vale of tears."

Of course, not only do the younger people learn from the older, but both find that they can actually enjoy time spent together because united in a common pursuit. For example, one little, blond girl (probably five years old or so), dressed up in her blue and white Easter dress, threw herself fearlessly into the fray, dancing with young and old.

Despite her age and diminutive size, she was able to follow the dances quite well, protected from being trampled or losing her place by the older dancers and clearly thoroughly enjoying herself.

The little five-year-old is just as likely to learn and enjoy the dance as the twenty-one-year-old, and this gives them a way to relate to one another. Thus, in dancing, we find that we're capable of enjoying time spent with people of all ages, both older and younger -- not just those of "our generation."

C N P

www.RemnantNewspaper.com ~ THE REMNANT

The Art of Social Dance

C P

Even as the evening wore on and the older folk grew tired, taking up places in the chairs around the outer edge of the room, there existed still a connection between old and young. The old were able to participate in the energy and excitement of the young as they watched, smiling, for here was a new generation carrying on the traditions of their youth.

Interaction within a Community

Finally, group dances offer a model for the proper interaction of a community.

The truly Christian community is focused on a very specific goal: the eternal salvation of its members. This goal is one which the structure of the community must enable and which, ideally, all of the individuals within the community must strive to align themselves with.

A dance models the Christian community in that it, too, establishes a structure (the pattern and rules of the dance) aimed at enabling the individuals to attain a goal (the creation of something ordered and beautiful).

Just as the structure of the Christian society is based upon the smallest unit of society (the family) so the structure of the dance is based upon the smallest unit of the dance (the couple). And just as the culture, wisdom, and substance of the Christian society is something handed down from one generation to another in the form of tradition, so the dance itself is a tradition handed down from one generation to another. Social dance, then, is in its orientation a very Catholic art: it is universal; it is traditional; it is social. Our society is a culture-less society because it lacks these essential elements, but reviving social dance may be a means by which we can begin to restore a bit of a true culture. I believe this is why the Misty Mountain Boys’ dances have been so popular, for there is a goodness and wholesomeness in them that attracts everyone seeking something more, something beyond what mainstream society offers. The hall was filled with such a wide variety of people interacting with one another: old, young, traditional Catholics, Novus Ordo Catholics, Protestants, musicians, farmers, students.

As I dwell on this image of the dancers, I am reminded of a medieval tapestry depicting all the strata of a society, not just a single class or generation.

In the medieval model, no part of the community stood alone, for all were bound together by a common cause: the establishment of Christ’s reign on earth and the attainment of eternal salvation.

Thus, they had a culture which grew out of a recognition of the purpose of society and the individual’s place within its hierarchy. Here, too, I witness in miniature a community bound by a common cause, though certainly of a much lesser nature. But the parallels with such an ordered, Catholic society make this dance something real, I think: a fragment of true culture. v