Cynthia spoke about the necessity of demonstrating contra corners, a figure that she had thought most would know well.
As Lisa pointed out, there are dance series where the older dances are called regularly and dancers there will be familiar with figures such as contra corners. (I'd say you're more likely to find these older dances included in the repertoire of smaller dances in rural New England than you are at most of the zesty urban dances.) The figure isn't called as much these days because it favors the ones-- the "active" couples, in the now out-of-favor parlance. The contemporary passion for everyone-moving, equal-activity choreography means that figures such as contra corners simply aren't used as much, unless it's a dance such as Alternating Corners where the ones and twos take turns doing contra corners. There's an example I like to use to demonstrate these changes. In the early to mid-1980s, when the "hey for four" started to appear with increasing frequency in contra choreography, an import from English country dancing, it frequently required lengthy, step-by-step instruction, often supplemented with a demonstration by a carefully-selected group of dancers. At that same time, when an evening's program included traditional contras--many of which are duple proper and end with the generic down the center and return, cast off, right and left over and back--people had no trouble with those closing figures. Today, the situation is nearly reversed--callers can move swiftly through a hey for four, knowing that most dancers on the floor will be familiar with the figure; it's a figure that you couild expect to encounter in a contra medley at NEFFA, for example, where there's no instruction. The newcomers will be assisted by those old hands (old feet?), who can indicate with an exaggerated shoulder the correct passing side and who can keep everyone moving. Call a duple proper dance, though, and the caller's troubles multiply. First of all, there are all those dancers who have already taken hands four and crossed over... they need to be brough back onto the correct side. And then doing the same sex right and left through can cause all manner of problems, so a careful, step-by-step instruction follows, often with a demonstration. The same applies, even more so, with triple minors, which of course were the norm at one time in our dancing past. People like what they know, and if they haven't been exposed to different figures and different formations, they'll initially resist the unfamiliar. But take a group of dancers who only dance contras regularly and get them through a grand square successfully, let alone something like a teacup chain, and you can feel the excitement in the room. But I digress... Cynthia also also raised the question of whether dancers squat or sit down when there's a demonstration, and Chris made several good suggestions about this. Dancers simply have grown accustomed to not having a demonstration, or are less tolerant of a demo than they might have been. I recall the story of Ted Sannella calling in Washington, DC, some years ago. He went out onto the floor to demonstrate the timing he wanted to see for a right and left through, and one of the dancers was heard grumbling something to the effect of "Who is this old man, who thinks he has the right to show us something?" The dance's organizer swiftly replied, "That's Ted Sannella, and if he thinks people here need to work on that figure, then they do!" Ted was fond of jumping onto the floor once or twice in an evening-- never more than that, in my recollection-- to illustrate style points. I don't think that this practice is as common these days, at least in the groups where I dance. One delightful exception for me came last fall when I was calling in Prague. There, in part because of the language barrier, I found it far more efficient to demonstrate unusual figures than to try to explain with words what I wanted. Yes, they'd be able to follow me, with the assistance of a translator, but the one picture/thousand words maxim applied. As soon as I took two steps toward the dance floor from the mic, the entire room sat down or squatted, without my needing even to make a request. I'd show the figure with the assistance of a few couples, and then everyone would dance it. I consciously modeled my calling on Ted's model, so I'm comfortable going out onto the floor. I do think that this action is a good way of making style points or demonstrating a particularly complex move. Perhaps if more of us did this at opportune moments, dancers would in time learn to get out of the sightlines of their neighbors. One final point. Chris ended his post with the comment that "we as callers need to model the good behavior from the floor as dancers." Well said! If we're on the dance floor when another caller comes out to demo something, I think that we have an obligation immediately to squat down ourselves, and trust that others will follow our lead. David Millstone
