Have you seen the film “The Grace Card”? It was filmed here in Memphis; a project of one church. The story is predictable but moving. I went to see it because a student of mine at the University of Memphis plays the part of the teenage son. There are no dancing scenes, but there is plenty of dancing through life. I hope you can see it and send comments.
This young lady has trained and practiced to compete in the Highland Games category of Highland Dance. She is wearing ghillies, special soft shoes for this kind of dance. 
She appears ready to perform the sword dance.
We attended some highland games where I was spellbound by the skill of the individual competitors in Highland Dance. Precision is the word! Technique is the task! Bagpipes for music!
Scottish Country dances are performed by couples. Music is bagpipes or accordion.
Later we learned that anyone was invited to learn / participate in a weekly Scottish Country dancing class held at Linlithgow Palace, a short drive west of Edinburg. Without too much persuasion, my husband and friends joined me for this! Some men were wearing kilts. They appeared comfortable and natural. They wore shirts and light sweaters, as if not ‘in costume’. A very nice lady (pink sweater) invited me (red hoody) to be her partner. My friend videotaped us, she didn’t know that you were only supposed to hold the camera horizontally.
It was the summer of 2007. We lived for five weeks in Scotland because my pastor husband switched pulpits with a Scottish pastor. They contacted us and initiated the arrangement so they could spend time in Tennessee. We lived in their energy efficient stone home in a valley below Stirling Castle, less than a mile from the William Wallace Memorial. Sigh. The church was a three block walk from the manse (house where we lived- belonging to the church). The churches chancel was built by Scottish architect Rennie Macintosh (1868-1928) of Glasgow and tours were given every weekend. The people were friendly and delightful. The coffee bothy, grocery store, pub, and main street were nearby, a relaxing walk past lovely flower laden gardens. We were given use of our host’s car: manual shift, driver’s side on left. My husband drove, I read the map. With two heads we slowly mastered the roundabouts. Best side trip: Mull and Iona. I unsuccessfully tried to learn the Gaelic. If we ever return, I hope to become a better Scottish Country dancer and more proficient in the Gaelic!
“I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. ” Luke 18:3
I don’t think I know of a dance that includes as many facets and artistic expressions as the flamenco. The feet, the arms, the clapping, the guitar, the song, the castanets:, these are all integral parts of the flamenco. Each enriches the passion of the dance! I studied flamenco when I was a college student taking a semester in Madrid, 1973. I did not work hard enough to become proficient, but I still have my castanets and enjoy playing them!
The Flamenco originated with gypsies, whose caravans and travels led them to many campsites and outdoor arenas where song and dance helped to pass the evening. It bears a strong connection with Arabian music and belly dance. It is popular in the south of Spain but is offered throughout the country, for the sake of tourists. The typical Flamenco Tablao has a stage where guitarists sit, singers stand, and in front of these, dancers perform. Tables with chairs invite the audience to drink and eat (in some instances). I have never been to a tablao that wasn’t crowded! If you have a table you are especially fortunate.
FEET: are very trained to create a fast tempo that accentuates the rhythm of the guitar and clapping. Choreographed steps include the sevillanas, bulerías, soleares, fandango, and alegrías. Each step fits a specific beat/count of the music. When you watch flamenco dancers, they are NOT simply stomping around in an ad lib fashion! Much study and training has been invested! ARMS: are active and feel the passion of the music; SONG: is a lament, of love and for the gypsies as outcasts of society; CASTANETS are skillfully played with little thought; pure rhythm and grace.
Sometimes a solo dancer performs; or a couple, or a group.
“They caused the cry of the poor to come before him, so that he heard the cry of the needy.”
Job 34:27-29
Hallelujah, they are safe! The miraculous newsworthy events in Chile this week remind me of other admirable human qualities I observed first hand as an exchange student there. Did you hear that they all had Bibles and were singing Elvis songs? In honor of the persistent faith of the Chilean rescuers and miners, this post is about folk dances of Chile.
So many pivotal events in our lives happen because of a whim. When I was 17, I signed up to be a foreign exchange student. I was a junior in high school. To this day, I feel deeply grateful for the privilege of being received with open arms by the people I met during those three months. It baffles me when I recall the strong connection of friendship that we established; and, with no English speakers in the vecinity, I tore myself away from those friends thinking in Spanish and speaking it rather fluently.
I lived with a family in a small town, on a farm, two hours south of Santiago, Chile. The delightful parents were entrepreneurs and had three daughters; the oldest was my age. They actually requested a boy, but were not very disappointed when I arrived. The parents impressed me with their outward expressions of affection and emotions. They also loved to dance and enthusiastically shared their beloved country with me. I returned to the US convinced that everyone in Chile sang, danced and played the guitar. I carried my classical Gibson over my shoulder when I went. The most requested song was a Peter, Paul and Mary, ‘If I had a hammer‘, (Music is the international language!) They taught me ‘Bésame, Bésame Mucho’. Several years later, I was a member of a Chilean folk dancing group, made up of expatriates, some of whom had gringa wives, and me, (see photo above). We practiced on Friday nights and performed around town.
Because Chile is a long narrow strip of land, there are contrasts, culturally from north to south. All of the dances originated in rural areas, where people gather for rodeos and outdoor celebrations. One of my favorites was the Trastrasera, a folk dance from the south. The national dance, as well as the Resfalosa (video below), comes from the central valley region, but is popular throughout.
In The Cueca, the huaso (Chilean cowboy) and huasa (Chilean cowgirl) basically carry on a courtship by dancing. Each has a handkerchief. The men wear boots with espuelas, spurs. I was thrilled the first time I saw this. It was in my ‘Chilean family’s’ living room, and it was one of the daughter’s fifteenth birthday. They had a big party, which included, in the typical Chilean fashion, family and friends from the very young to the fairly old. The clapping and the music began, and soon, several couples were dancing!! I loved it! Of course, they were not in the traditional clothing that night, but here is the dance.
These events happened before Allende and Pinochet, if you know anything about Chilean history. Sad times. My Chilean family and I have kept in touch. Our youngest daughter will go to Chile to study and live with my Chilean sister this spring. Her daughters have visited us. I found some old pictures of when she visited me in college and when I taught them ‘the bump’. How pitiful is that?!! They taught me the cueca and I taught them ‘the bump’. Am I the only person who thinks there is something a miss with that scenario?
“For with God nothing will be impossible.” Luke 1:37
Our ballet studio participated every other year in the Shrine Ball. A number of dance teachers brought their students to perform at the event. We danced on the concrete floor of the Sam Houston Coliseum, seen as the large roof in this photo. Before Jones Hall or the Astrodome were built, this was the largest arena in Houston. The Beatles performed there and it is where JFK spoke, the night before he rode through the ill-fated motorcade in Dallas, 1963. I have memories of trying to shake hands with Roy Rogers there, the first TV star I admired- and actually dreamed about, as he rode by on Trigger at the The Houston Fat Stock Show and Rodeo.
There was a tunnel from the parking garage to the hall. Photographers flashed while you walked by and were usually successful in selling their products. This was long before digital photos, or phone cameras! Here I am, pictured with my parents, on our way to the rodeo.
My teacher was a brilliant choreographer. She designed intricate formations. She talked to us about Esther Williams, the synchronized swimmer, to help us understand that word, “synchronized”. She spoke about the perfect precision of the Radio City Music Hall Rockettes.
It was the fifties and sixties. I can remember at least two dances we did in the coliseum. In one, we wore white gloves that had been dipped in a chemical to light up when the black lights were turned on. Sand was on the floor so that a sandy soft sound was heard when we danced. Our ballet shoes were painted gold, and our tights, leotards and tutus were tan and brown, with glitter. 
There was always glitter, or sequins! We danced to this:
For another year, our teacher created an entire program to the music of Babes in Toyland. We danced to the March of the Toys, very pompous and elaborate! I was dressed as a 10 of hearts, with two felt panels, red leotard and tights. I remember that we always looked forward, in a competitive sort of way, to seeing what the Patsy Swayze School would do! Little did I know at the time that she had a son born the same year as me, who’s talent for dance would thrill audiences far beyond our stage. What would the eighties have been without Patrick Swayze? I actually preferred the story of Havana Nights, sequel to Dirty Dancing. He was the teacher in that film. But, let’s face it, his performance in this clip is a classic! Note: You have to click twice and be sent to youtube in order to see this.
“For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.” Psalm 139:13-14
I would like to begin this post by reminding the reader that when my ballet teacher suggested I write a book entitled, “Point your little toe“, she said that the subject matter did not have to be limited to dance, or toe pointing. Hence, a little tale about shot gun shells.
The other night I was out to dinner with my husband, who is a pastor. We were talking about people and he added, “her husband is in the shot gun shells in my desk”. Excuse me? His instructions upon his death were to put his ashes in shot gun shells and to fire them into the woods behind our church.
Shooting shot guns is not allowed in our incorporated town so the shot gun shells remain in my husband’s desk drawer, at least for now. The other pastor originally had the remains in his desk, but found it a little creepy, so they were transferred.
Any suggestions? It is good to honor the wishes of the deceased. And, in the event that it is not possible…?
The following is not particularly relevant to this story or the contents of the shot gun shells. It only reminds me of other tales from ‘these parts’ and folks we know who carry guns. And, it is a family favorite from the 90’s.
“For he knows our frame. He remembers that we are dust.” Psalm 103:14
Point your little toe... 
