It might as well be swing
by Marli Guzzetta
Last Thursday night, I attended an introductory East Coast Swing dance lesson at the Preservation Institute: Nantucket. Those of you who know me might be thinking, "Marli, wait a minute. I know your father made you listen to an inordinate number of big band jazz records when you were a child - reiterating his creed that the last real musical talent would die with Frank Sinatra - but what made you think you could swing dance? And what does this have to do with Brad and Angelina's romantic escape to India?"

Marli, having a swingin' good time.

Fear not, dear friends. When one participant pulled a pair of leather-soled dancing shoes from her bag, I was, for a minute, threatened - scared for my catcher's knee and my infant reputation as a Nantucketer who is quick on her feet. (Or at least on her feet, period.) But I was in good hands for this class, taught by Audrey Sterk and Clay Twombly- two 20somethings so adorable, they should come in Easter baskets.

In hip little outfits (skirt over jeans for her; Tshirt over button-down shirt for him), they had a relaxed competency with the dance characterized by its six-count triple step form - but, officially, not too much else. (The National Dance Council of America never standardized East Coast Swing; that means it is, by definition, unstuffy.)

One hundred red boats sailed into the harbor at Children's Beach last Friday in recognition of last month's International Day of Peace. Launched by students of the Nantucket New School, under the direction of their art teacher Finnie Trimpi, the students made the little vessels from recycled materials such as soda bottles, then painted them and decorated them with flags and written words representing the children's thoughts about peace. Celia Gillum (left) and Macy Sherburne run excitedly from the shoreline.

Clay took Ballroom and Swing classes during his junior year of college and progressed to the class's teaching assistant the following year. After college, he moved to Colorado, where he taught a few private lessons and co-founded a "Swing Night" that grew almost immediately to include 150 students. Audrey picked up swing on island with Dance Nantucket and has been dancing and teaching private lessons for about six years.

The two danced together at the Nantucket AIDS Network gala in August, then performed together during the Arts Festival. Fated by the dancing gods to come together, the two received such a positive response that they decided to start their own class. Their new instruction company a deux is called "Just for Kicks."

Enter my first class at PI:N.

About 20 or so people showed up on the inaugural night of swing - some couples and some not, some experienced and some not. At the beginning of the class, Clay and Audrey asked us to queue up in two opposing lines - The Leaders and The Led. (There were more women than men, but it wasn't rooster-in-ahen house unequal.) They then stood at the front of the room to demonstrate each movement we were to learn that night, including the open position, the closed position, the triple step, the rock step and the ladies' turn. (Both Audrey and Clay circulated throughout the room after the demonstrations, giving personalized instruction as needed.)

Our first lesson, basic handwork. Seeing as I couldn't cajole my photographer - Michael Galvin - into putting down the camera and making an ass of himself with me, I was without a partner. Thankfully, Audrey joined up with me to play something of a gluestuck version of the Miss Mary Mack clapping game, to get a feel for the tension requisite between dancing partners. And because she was the teacher, I hoped she would be professionally obligated to at least try to refrain from making fun of me after class.

Then, it was time to do a basic open step - with music. Songs of my youth played while we (The Led) rotated through the line of leaders, and I only had to wipe my hands on my pants four times.

At some point, my ankles unclenched because I knew I would not be expected to do any jumpsplits - I let myself enjoy the music and actually have fun. (But certainly not as much fun as Angelina and Brad are having in India, because I'm just not nearly as good looking.)

One of my partners, a young and adept dancer named Joel, said he had briefly taken classes in the past to prepare for a wedding. Aperfectly reasonable idea, it seemed. By the end of one class, I was confident I would have learned enough to prevent making an ass of myself while dancing at someone's big band wedding reception. Any moves I would learn at subsequent classes would be icing on the open bar. And Clay said the repertoire of steps I could build with a partner would be "endless."

(Endless!)

"It's also high energy, so it's a great form of exercise," Clay added.

It was high energy, but it wasn't highimpact. Clay and Audrey set a patient, supportive and energetic tone - it was a class free of judgment, and how many things does one do in life that's free of that? After the official end of the lesson, Clay and Audrey let the music play, and a good number of people stayed to dance with the partners they'd brought or with friends they'd just made.

I had been scared when I started - and that fear of embarrassment, I think, has raised the bar for my colleagues to put themselves in potentially compromising situations for their Coofs - but I felt good at the end of the class, possibly even up for another. One might even have said I was 'in the mood.'

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