Old-Time Square Dancing
in the 21st Century:
Dare to be
Square!
by Phil Jamison
A lot has changed in almost twenty years! Here is Phil's follow-up
to his original Dare to Be Square article.
This appeared in The
Old-Time Herald - Volume 9,
Number 3 (2004). Once again, I am thankful for their willingness
to allow it's reproduction here on my website.
- Bill Tomczak
Dance Beat/Issues in Old-Time Music
Fifteen years ago I wrote an article for
the Dance Beat (Vol. 1 No. 6 , November 1988) titled, "Community
Dances in the Eighties: Dare To Be Square!" In it I described changes
that I was observing at community dances; squares were on the decline
and "contra-mania" was spreading across the country. In looking
back over what I wrote in 1988, while there are a few things that I would
modify slightly, or articulate more clearly, for the most part I stand
by what I said back then, but even more so! I know that writing in the Old-Time
Herald, I was for the most part, "preaching to the choir," and
while I received much support from the old-time music community, some
people in the contra dance scene were offended and angered by what I
wrote. I was accused of being "divisive," and I was unwelcome
as a dance caller at a number of venues. Robert Reed, a contra dancer
from Portland, Oregon, responded in the Bay Area Country Dancer in
1989. Both "Dare To Be Square," and Robert Reed's response
are still available for reading on the internet. My original article
can be found at the Old-Time Herald website <http://www.oldtimeherald.org/dare-to-be-square>.
Robert Reed's response is at Bill Tomczak's contra dance website <http://musaique.com/contradance/dare-reed-response.html>.
I had always intended to write a follow-up, so now fifteen years later,
here it is.
In the 1970s, with the growing interest in traditional music and dance,
many new square dances started up around the country. Many of these dances
were extensions of the old-time music community, functioning as gathering
places for musicians as well as dancers. Except in New England, where
contras became the dominant form, traditional southern squares were common
thoughout the country, and the music was primarily southern old-time.
Outside of New England, contras were also danced at Berea, Brasstown,
and other affiliates of the Country Dance and Song Society (CDSS), but
these dances were often separate from the thriving old-time music and
dance scene.
In the fall of 1982, I helped start the weekly dance here in Asheville,
called the Old Farmers' Ball. From the beginning there was a mix of squares
and contras, the latter reflecting the influence of Berea and Brasstown.
The music was more-often-than-not southern old-time music, and every
Thursday, members of Asheville's old-time music and dance community gathered
to dance, play music, or just hang out.
Over the years, what I used to refer to as our "square dance," evolved
into a "contra dance." Today contras are the norm, and it is
rare that a square is called. Southern old-time stringbands are now infrequent,
having been replaced by contra dance bands. There are fewer banjos, and
more keyboards and various forms of percussion, including drums. Musical
styles have become eclectic, drawing from the New England, Celtic, and
old-time repertoires, with a few newly-composed tunes mixed in. Our dance,
like many others, has grown in attendance and is thriving, but now those
of us who prefer squares and southern music have become alienated and
have quit attending. However, I believe that the dance abandoned the
old-time music community, rather than the other way around, and I have
witnessed that what started out as a "community dance" for
the community has now become a "dance community" for contra
dancers. And this has, I believe, led current dancers to have more of
a consumer attitude. The "professional" contra dancers seem
to be annoyed by beginners and other "bad" dancers who get
in the way, avoiding them as partners, and pushing them around in the
contra lines. Contra dance bands now delight the dancers with rehearsed
musical arrangements and tune medleys. New callers, all from the ranks
of the dancers, cater to the dancers' demands, calling all contras and
no squares.
Although I have been calling dances for almost thirty years, and do
it well, I am now seldom asked to call at local dance events, perhaps
because I insist on calling squares as well as contras. I have been hassled,
and even booed, by rude contra dancers, who object if I call more than
one or two squares during an evening. I have even had dancers call me
at home before a dance, to see if I was going to call any squares, and
if so, they were not going to come. It is discouraging, to say the least,
and makes me speculate whether I am a dance leader or just an employee
of the dancers.
What I have portrayed here is not unique to Asheville. The contra-mania
that I first described fifteen years ago is flourishing and continues
to spawn new contra dance events across the country, while only a few
old-time square dances survive. Some contra dance callers do attempt
to include some squares, but these are vastly outnumbered by the predominance
of contras. I used to believe that squares and contras could exist side-by-side
and that squares would eventually regain their popularity, but I now
have begun to wonder if they might both be better off at separate venues.
The Rise of the Contra
Competition between contras and squares
is nothing new; these two rival dance forms have been contending for
popularity for centuries. Contra dances developed from the longways country
dances that became popular in English upper-class society as early as
the seventeenth century. The dance trends of that era can be ascertained
by looking at the hundreds of country dances described in successive
editions of John Playford's English
Dancing Master. During this period "Longways for as many as
will," gradually became the dominant country dance form, replacing
earlier squares, rounds, and longways sets for four, six, or eight dancers.
In Playford's first edition of 1651, longways sets make up only about
one third of the dances. In later editions they became more prevalent,
as dancing masters devised new ones for their clientele, and by the final
edition of 1728, 98% of the dances are in the longways [contra dance]
form. Cecil Sharp accounted for this change, noting that "...in
the Longways dance the professor of dancing found a form easily adapted
to the genteel style which he affected. Attracted, therefore, by this
form alone, he forced it into prominence to the exclusion of the earlier
and less flexible types." English dancing masters also taught
contra dances throughout colonial America, and they remained the popular
dance form, along with reels and jigs, into the early years of this
country.
The War of the Quadrilles
Another chapter in the history of the
contras vs. squares rivalry occurred two hundred years ago, in 1804,
in New Orleans. It has been described by dance historian, Maureen Needham
Costonis, as "The War of the
Quadrilles." In December 1803, New Orleans became United States
territory as part of the Louisiana Purchase. Prior to that time, the
favored dances among the city's predominately French-speaking Creoles
were French Quadrilles, referred to at that time as "French contredanses." French
Quadrilles had not yet come to the United States, where "English
contredanses" [contra dances] were still in fashion. On January
8, 1804, only a few weeks after the transfer to the Americans, a quarrel
between the Creoles and the Americans broke out at a public ball, over
which type of dance should be done. According to one account of the incident: "Two
quadrilles, one French [a square], the other English [a contra], were
formed at once. An American, taking exception, brandished his stick over
a fiddler, and there was at once, great turmoil..." Eventually,
after much persuasion, "...the French quadrille [square dance] was
allowed to go on, but the American interrupted it on its second time
around with an English quadrille [contra dance], taking his position
on the floor; some one cried out: ÔIf the women have a drop of French
blood in their veins, they will not give in!'"
The contra-square controversy continued and erupted into a brawl at
another public dance later that month. As reported by the New-York Herald
on March 10, 1804, the dancing began with cotillions [squares], followed
by a country dance [contra] for twelve couples. The musicians were
instructed to end the contra after all of the couples had been active,
but six additional American couples joined the end of the line and demanded
that the music continue. In the ensuing ruckus, fiddles got broken, swords
were drawn, and dancers were arrested. In an effort to resolve the issue
and let the dances continue, the New Orleans City Council stepped in,
prohibiting citizens from carrying arms to the dances, assigning policemen
to keep order, and legislating a rotation of dances: two "French
contredanses[squares]," followed by one "English contredanse
[contra]" limited to twelve couples, and then a waltz, to appease
those of Spanish descent.
Following the War of 1812, with the exception of New England, which
remained pro-English, Americans completely abandoned the tradition of
English contra dances in favor of the French quadrilles. Quadrilles were
promoted as being "new" and "fashionable" and contras
were seen as "rustic" and "old-fashioned." While
remnants of some of the formal quadrille figures remain in New England
squares as well as western squares, they had less influence in the South
and mid-West, where visiting couple squares became the popular form.
Modern Contras
So now, after almost two hundred years as the prevailing
dance form, squares are no longer in fashion, and contras have made
a comeback. But not the old traditional contras that were displaced by
the quadrilles in the early nineteenth century; almost all of contras
at today's dances have been composed since the 1970s, in a modern form.
Most of the old contras were danced in triple-minor proper sets, involving
groups of three couples taking hands-six, rather than pairs of couples
taking hands-four (duple-minor form). Dance calling was not yet commonplace,
so the dance would be led by the top couple, with each successive couple
following. All other couples were inactive until they arrived at the
top of the set. And despite limiting sets to twelve couples, contras
were often described as seeming "never-ending," not finishing
until the original leading couple had made it back to the top of the
set.
Modern contra dances are choreographed to keep all the dancers moving
all the time, with no inactive couples. Duple-minor dances have replaced
the less-active triple-minor form, and to accommodate today's longer
lines, "unequal" figures (in which one couple is more active
than the other) have been eliminated. (The equivalent in the square dance
world are the modern western square dances of the 1950s.) These modern
contras, prompted by a caller, make use of only a dozen or so interchangeable
figures in repetitive permutations, and they are easily mastered by new
dancers in a relatively short time.
Contemporary Contra Dancers
In an attempt to better understand
the contemporary contra dance culture, I recently posted a survey on
the internet to several dance communities in the southeast asking about
motivations for dancing, as well as musical preferences and opinions
concerning squares vs. contras. Close to sixty contra dancers responded
and the results are informative.
Dancers attend contra dances for various reasons. The most common response
(76%) was a social reason, which included the "need for community," "physical
and social contact," and opportunities for "safe flirting." Due
to the brevity of the interactions in a contra dance, dancers interact
with large numbers of people without fear of commitment, or even having
to talk. One dancer from Atlanta said that contra dances "serve
my need to be physically creative and connect with other people. Verbal
interaction is not always expected." Almost half of the dancers
(47%) are attracted to contra dancing for aerobic exercise, which may
account for the water bottles, spandex, running shorts, and head bands
seen at many dances. Slightly over one-third (34%) mentioned the music,
and about one-in-five (19%) said they enjoyed dancing and physical movement
in general. Many dancers (39%) refer to the fun and the exhilaration
of dancing. A dancer from Knoxville wrote of "the Ôdancer's high'
that comes with the triple combination of dance, people, and great music." Another
from Chapel Hill spoke of "being drunk on the ecstasy of dancing." For
many others (27%), contra dancing goes beyond simply recreation, and
is perceived as being "therapeutic" or even "spiritual." These
dancers speak of the importance of "centeredness" and "getting
into a trance." One dancer in Atlanta said, "I don't think
about anything else when I am dancing and am as much Ôin the moment'
as I ever am." Obviously contra dancing is fulfilling a need in
peoples lives, and even though there is no single reason why dancers
are drawn to contras, and it appears to be more than just an alternative
to the gym or singles bars.
Many contra dancers are new to dancing. Of the 57 dancers who responded
to my survey, the majority (54%) have "discovered" contra dancing since I
wrote "Dare To Be Square" in 1988. Dividing the sample into
two groups, those who have been involved in dancing for less than 10
years (40%), and those who have been involved in dancing for more than
20 years (25%), reveals a polarization of dance preferences. Of the more
experienced dancers, 43% prefer squares, 7% prefer contras, and 50% like
both. Of the newer dancers, 70% prefer contras, 30% like both, but 0%
prefer squares.
It is no surprise to learn that newer dancers overwhelmingly prefer
contras to squares. Many of these folks sound like ones I have encountered
at dances, who are almost belligerent in their attitude toward squares,
and believe that squares have no place at a "contra dance." It
is not uncommon for a caller to hear moans or boos from the dance floor
at the suggestion of doing more than just a token square in an evening.
Typical of the comments I received from dancers were, "I can endure
one square a night, or possibly two, but never any more," "One
square during a contra dance would be more than enough," and "I
have left a dance because the caller called too many squares." Maybe
I should look on the positive side and be encouraged that 30% of the
new dancers do tolerate squares. For many though, this means one, or
at most two, during a full evening of contras "regardless of the
caller."
One dancer in Florida posed a question that had never occurred to me, "If
you agreed to dance a contra with someone, and the caller makes the next
dance a square instead of a contra, would you still dance?" Independently,
another dancer from Knoxville provided the answer, "There's sort
of an understanding among contra dancers that an invitation to dance
the Ônext dance' isn't binding if the next dance turns out to be a square." I
was surprised to find out that according to many of today's contra dancers, "squares
don't count as dances!" If you ask someone to be your partner for
the "next dance," this means the next contra dance. One dancer
from Atlanta declared, "The only real benefit of a square is to
give me a chance to change my shirt or go to the bathroom...I can certainly
tolerate squares at a contra dance. After all, I do need time to change
my shirts and go to the bathroom."
When asked about musical preferences, the contra dancers surveyed preferred
New England or Celtic music over old-time music almost two-to-one. The
banjo is cited by several dancers as their least favorite dance instrument.
The rhythms, tempos, and 32-bar format of New England or Celtic tunes
are perhaps better suited to the requirements of contras than are many
of the great southern dance tunes. A few old-time tunes, however, have
met the criteria and have been adopted by contra dance musicians, becoming
a part of the standard repertoire. Regardless of the style, though, the
dancers seem to care little about traditional music, and more about bands
that offer "variety." In addition to dynamic medleys of tunes,
this often means the use of drums, percussion, and unusual instruments,
or other "cheap tricks that make the dancers yell." Perhaps
these so called "bells and whistles" wake up and energize contra
dancers, lost in trances induced by the repetitive figures of the contra
dance.
A number of contra dancers specifically mentioned not liking old-time
music, finding it "boring" and "monotonous." While
it may be monotonous (but no more so than the repetitive contra dance
figures), this same quality makes it so appropriate and good for fast-paced
southern squares. Medleys and contra dance band gimmicks do not work
well, but instead can be a distraction to dancers who need to stay focused
on the free-form calling.
Squares vs. Contras
So what is it that contra dancers
dislike about squares? Unfortunately this question doesn't take into
consideration that there are many different types of squares (southern,
New England, western, singing, etc.), and dancers may like one kind but
not another. The traditional old-time southern squares that I love seem
to be the least favorite.
One of the most common criticisms I heard was that squares take too
long to teach. A longer walk-through means less time for dancing, or
as several dancers put it, "bad talk-to-dance ratio." This
is often true, but part of the blame lies with the dancers and their
lack of experience and familiarity with squares. If squares are not part
of the regular program, dancers have little exposure to them. As a caller,
I know to expect a longer walk-through when people do not already know
such basics as the Grand Right and Left. Also many squares have unique
figures that may show up in only one dance. It is harder to teach
a square; it often involves some actual teaching. By comparison, most
contras are "taught" by merely announcing the sequence of the
figures and having the dancers walk through them; new figures are seldom
taught. This of course leaves beginners feeling lost.
Another shortcoming of squares is the necessity for eight dancers in
each set which can add to the time it takes to organize the sets (but
not if dancers are eager to dance them). As one dancer from Asheville
pointed out, "You could conceivably have up to seven dancers wanting
to dance, but unable to because they cannot find an eighth person. In
a contra line the most you would ever have forced to sit out is one dancer." In
my experience, with a little creativity, even an incomplete set can still
dance most of the figures of a square, and they usually have fun giving
it a try.
A number of dancers complain that squares are "boring." This
has as much to do with the dancers' attitudes as with the caller's choice
of choreography. I admit that some squares are more interesting than
others, but even simple traditional visiting couple squares can be enjoyable.
Having met the same fate as traditional squares, "Rory O'More," "Chorus
Jig" and other traditional contra dance "chestnuts," in
which one couple is sometimes inactive, have also been eliminated from
today's contra dance programs.
Many contra dancers find squares "confusing." They are discouraged
if they are the ones who are confused, or a more common complaint, they
are irritated if they "get stuck" in a square with inexperienced
dancers. As one dancer pointed out, "If you are in a Ôbad' square,
you are in it for the whole dance. You don't simply move on to new neighbors
like you would in a contra." Confusion can sometimes be the result
of the caller's inexperience, which can manifest itself in unclear teaching
or "bad calling." Contras are straightforward and easy to prompt,
but many contra callers have little understanding of the timing of calling
squares.
One other drawback to squares, that several dancers pointed out, is
that contras make "more efficient use of floor space" in a
crowded hall. This may be true, but is efficiency of space a major consideration
at a dance and a reason to dislike squares?
I have observed that some of the same characteristics of squares that
one dancer dislikes are exactly what another dancer likes. Some dancers
like the challenge and variety of figures offered by squares. This, however,
does not satisfy those contra dancers who want to get into a "trance" or "the
right brain ÔZen' state that is sometimes possible in contra dancing." The
challenge, sometimes bordering on confusion that these dancers dislike,
is enjoyed by others who like the faster pace and spontaneity characteristic
of squares.
Some contra dancers object to dancing with only seven other people in
a square set, but others enjoy the "great sense of teamwork" and "synergy
of eight people working together" in a square. One dancer pointed
out that "...you spend enough time with the people in your square
to get to know them, unlike a contra where the interaction is fleeting
and superficial."
While some contra dancers will tolerate a few token squares as "a
nice change from dancing up and down lines," these dancers tend
to prefer the squares that are most "contra-like." In other
words, not southern squares, but ones that are phrased to the music and
use contra dance figures in a square formation. Some dancers think a
square is fun if it has challenging, intricate figures that force you
to think and work as a team. Though complex squares can at times be fun,
other dancers find them too "cerebral," lacking much of the
essence of what squares, southern squares in particular, have to offer.
Dare to be square!
Contra-mania has become more widespread and
established thoughout the country since I wrote "Dare to be Square" in
1988. While some callers do include a few squares, many dance organizers
discourage squares, and today's contra dancers seem more intolerant than
ever. In many locations, the old-time music community, offended by fanatical "contra
nazis," has
parted ways with the contra dance scene. One dancer from Lynchburg, Virginia
suggested that the controversy results from "an intersection of
subcultures...Square dancing seems like more of a local community gathering
to me while contra dancing is more cosmopolitan." In spite of this,
I urge contra dancers to have an open mind toward squares; they can be
wonderful and just as exhilarating as contras. A dancer from Chapel Hill
wrote, "I didn't like them up until about 12 years ago. I was so
greedy for my dance buzz, I couldn't tolerate the times that squares
wobbled, broke down, were badly called, or were too Ôcorny' for my
taste. I wanted non-stop exciting dancing with fabulous partners and
neighbors. Needless to say, I danced in the center set during contras
and ignored beginners. Friends who loved squares influenced me to be
more open minded, I matured, I started caring more about the overall
group experience rather than my own pleasure, and I danced enough squares
to be able to help when they wobbled and laugh when they fell apart."
In some places around the country, in particular in Denver, Seattle,
and Portland, Oregon, new old-time square dances have started up, completely
independent of the contra dance scene. As a contra dancer from Knoxville
pointed out, "Neither contra dancing nor square dancing is for everybody...
I'd rather see contra dances and square dances billed separately than
to try to force the two into the same venues, that way each can appeal
to its own set of people and use the music that suits it best."
Perhaps this is the best way to go, if the contra dance community continues
in its current direction. Rather than trying to force hardcore contra
dancers to loosen up and appreciate traditional squares, the re-establishment
of old-time square dances, separate from the contra dance scene, would
benefit musicians, as well as dancers and callers, and make for a stronger
old-time music community. This may be easier said than done, but it would
revive one of the main functions of old-time music, which is playing
for dancing. It would also provide family and beginner-friendly dances
for all ages, where callers could call squares, and the community could
come together to dance, socialize, or just enjoy the music.
References:
Costonis, Maureen Needham. "The War of the Quadrilles: Creoles
vs. Americans, 1804." New York Public Library Bulletin of Research
in the Humanities 1 (1986-87): 63-81.
Sharp, Cecil J. The Country Dance Book, Part II, 3 ed. London:
Novello and Company, 1927. Reprint, Wakefield, Yorkshire: EP Publishing,
1975.
Thanks to Larry Edelman and to all of the contra dancers who took the
time to answer my dance survey.
Phil Jamison is an old-time musician, flatfoot dancer, and dance
caller, who has been calling squares since 1975. He is assistant director
of the Swannanoa Gathering at Warren Wilson College in Asheville, NC
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