Our choice is not about nostalgia.
Recently, a few of our video posts went a little wild on social media, garnering a number of comments from folks. Some of them were reflecting on the style they learned as children, missing those steps and that style. Others, who I would describe as entrenched in the modern competitive mindset, thought our technique wasn’t going to get us a win. And it sparked in me a desire to write a bit of an apologia (defense) of why we do old-style Irish step dancing. We are not chasing nostalgia. While I did do Irish dance as a child, I didn’t dance long enough to actually gain any sense of the style. Nor are we recreating the past for its own sake. What we dance is not an historical reenactment, though it is historically informed. We dance this grounded, close-to-the-floor style to recover something that has been lost on the commercial and competitive paths. Our choice is to offer dancing opportunities that connect people to themselves and the community.
First and foremost, the body has always been meant to be grounded. Modern competitive Irish dance has evolved into a spectacular athletic display, featuring high kicks, explosive jumps, and densely pack rhythms. With their rigid upper body and dynamic lower body, modern competitive dancers make a striking silhouette. The reality is that this intensely athletic evolution has come at a cost to the folk tradition whence it derived. The capacity and skill required to execute these movements are for elite athletes. And the word “elite,” by definition, is exclusive. Folk traditions are meant for people – every day people who want to engage with the music and move their bodies. In old-style Irish dance, the movement stays close the floor. Steps are rhythmic and grounded. Dancers work with gravity, rather than fighting against it. For some, this may seem like a limitation, but in reality, it’s sustainability. And is actually a skill unto itself and can be honed and refined like any other skill. But because it is low to the ground, people can start at any age and continue for as long as they want, making adaptations as their bodies and abilities change.
There was a time when dance and music were inextricably linked. Under a competitive focus, dance and music diverged and in time, dancing became a spectacle designed to impress judges and audiences. On stages, set at a distance from the audience, movements were amplified to give maximum visual impact. Old-style dance was always meant to be felt; the rhythm of the feet following the ebb and flow of the music. It was never meant to be watched from a distance, let alone on a stage. It was meant to be up close and personal. In old-style Irish step dance, dancers become part of the music and that connection means everything.
It is because of that connection to the music that when we teach old-style steps, we bring people into conversation with the music. We challenge them to find the rhythm and the melody; teaching them how to become music makers. This necessitates a shift from appearance-driven pursuit, to a rhythmic one. As dancers find musicality in their feet, they derive satisfaction from their dancing, which draws them into deeper pursuit of their steps and musicality. The feedback loop becomes almost perpetual as dancers delight in acquiring new capacities and skills.
The longer they are on this journey, dancers will realize this is not a solitary pursuit, but rather a communal one. When we do perform, Kaleidoscope Studio dancers celebrate what others have learned and are frequently inspired with new steps they would like to learn. Competitive dancing creates hierarchies – rankings, placements, winners – that are flattened and even eliminated in a community focus, because dancers seek to be their best, not to be THE best. And as much as that may seem like a subtle, semantic distinction, a desire to continue learning and growing is one of the greatest aspects of dancing in community. Because there is no ladder to climb, comparison stops mattering and people can connect with one another because the stakes have changed from a singular title to a shared celebration of progress. This lack of competition creates space for all dancers to be on the floor. It is also the pathway to making dance more accessible; not necessarily easier. There are still numerous complicated rhythms and movements to be mastered in old-style, but the victory is in achieving a challenge rather than in defeating a competitor, which is a very different thing.
Ultimately, tradition is a living practice, not a museum piece. In every era of competitive dance, the steps and style have changed as dancers and their teachers seek to emulate previous winners in hopes of becoming a winner. Nostalgia is “a sad pleasure experienced in recalling what no longer exists.” Old-style Irish step dancing has never died. There have been moments where these old steps and the communities surrounding them were on the brink of extinction, but they have never fully succumbed. The steps we teach are not being preserved in amber, frozen at a particular moment in time. The steps and style we dance are living traditions, being shaped as they pass from dancer to dancer, adapting to new bodies, and new communities. We add our own dynamics and flair here in Kitchener, just like they do across the various dancing communities in Ireland.
Nostalgia looks backwards to something gone. We look at this living tradition and wonder what our part is in preserving it and moving it forward. We practice it in the midst of our current social and political climate. We consider how it emerged in the past and identify what purpose it served. Given the circumstances of the world today, we look to the community connections achieved through dance. We also look to the current research into the benefits of dance for holistic (physical, mental, psychological, and social) development. Dancing traditions in Ireland came out of specific social and political experiences. These are not romantic experiences we are trying to recreate, but rather, an answer embedded in a community practice. We do old-style Irish dance because it offers wisdom for our current circumstance. It provides us with musicality, community, and a place to belong. It is our conviction that this is what dancing was always meant to be, long before competition and spectacle reshaped it into something else entirely.
If this resonates, the studio floor is waiting. We have a few spaces remaining for fall classes.
Your next step starts here: Book your class.