Choreography classes the past two nights and my mind is full of possible combinations of moves.

In the advanced class on Tuesday we worked on doing an improvisational drum solo. Our fabulously fun teacher provided the framework, and then each of us offered input about what we’d do during different phrases of the song. We learned it fast; she works us hard and we love to sweat.

We practiced it well, and we ended the song with the cheesiest possible jazz dance pose, left knee pulled up, right arm up and the left arm back and down, like Superman flying through the wild blue yonder. Or maybe Mighty Mouse.

We giggled at our silliness, we grinned like we were Vegas showgirls, strike the pose, va va voom. I don’t understand those who take themselves super-serious. There’s one thing to saying “this is my life,” and another to saying “this is my life and it’s not funny.”
I attended class last night, too, different teacher, she’s a co-conspirator for a trio dance entertainment project, and she teaches a beginning-intermediate level class. I’ll be covering the class while she makes a trip to Japan at the end of this month.

Many of my former beginning-level students are in the class, and when I arrived it was a slobbery hug-fest. I’m looking forward to teaching at a more intermediate level. Much as I love the beginners, I believe the best method of practice is to teach.

We worked on combining basic motions into a simple yet fast-paced choreography. I followed easily and looked around, noticed the looks of concentration, the frown lines, the determined set of their jaws. The last time we danced through it, she made us all smile, and the change of mood in the room was remarkable.

I liked how she had us end class facing each other in a circle; I’ve only been in a few classes that do this, and I think I’m going to incorporate it during my next Saturday class. Facing each other changes the focus; instead of looking in the mirror, we have to look at one another, and acknowledge we, too, are being seen. I have five students interested in performing in a student show in June.

Learning to perform is its own thing. There are born performers, but by and large, the ladies who attend my class come for the exercise, the camaraderie, the fun. I think dancing for one’s fellow classmates is harder than dancing for a general public audience. Perhaps, for just a ten-minute taste of it, we’ll each dance inside the circle. It’s an important exercise, so why do I feel like I’m rubbing hands together and smiling with a wicked grin?