Science has now proved what we dancers have always intuitively known: when we’re in tune with each other, our brains sync up, helping us move as one. 

In a unique study at the ATLAS Institute, Argentinian tango dancers wore electroencephalogram (EEG) caps, or devices that measure electrical activity in the brain. The results showed that when the dancers moved together in time, their brain activity looked startlingly similar. Scientists call this phenomenon “interbrain coupling” or “neural synchronisation.” Similar patterns have been seen in other social activities, such as playing duets on the guitar, but never before in dancing. 

“When we dance, our brains are actually coupling,” said researcher Thiago Roque. “We are synchronising our brains through our behaviour.”

This extract comes from an article published in CU Bouldering Today journal:  

When neurons fire in the brain, they create pulses of electrical activity, or “brainwaves.” EEG sensors measure those waves at different frequencies. Humans, for example, tend to produce fast pulses known as beta waves when they are concentrating or thinking hard. In contrast, they often generate slower theta waves when they’re relaxing.

Roque noted that how those waves behaved in the experiment depended on how in step the dancers were with each other.

When a leader, for example, took a step forward and the follower took an immediate (within 200 milliseconds or less) step back, their brain waves tended to match up — rising and falling at about the same time. When their steps weren’t in sync, neither were their brains. Those trends were true for a range of brain waves, including beta and theta waves.

“When I started seeing the results, they were perfect,” Roque said. “The coupling was even better than I expected.”

But why does it feel so good? 

Humans have a natural impulse to synchronise their movements with other humans. Have you ever noticed yourself nodding your head, touching your face or folding your arms along with the person you’re talking to? Bronwyn Tarr, who is a trained dancer and evolutionary biologist at the University of Oxford, says, “It’s as if we’re all searching for a common rhythm to share” (Aeon). According to Tarr, when you observe another person moving, an area of the brain is activated which helps you make these movements yourself. The mutual mimicking of another person’s movements causes similar neural networks in both parties to open up a rush of neurohormones, which make us feel good. 

And you know from your own experience how good it feels when you synchronise, when you fall effortlessly into each other’s rhythm, co-creating a flow state that transcends mere movement.    

The post Swinging in Sync: The Science of Connection on the Dance Floor appeared first on Cape Town Swing.

What makes this residency special is not just the calibre of the teachers (which is pretty darn high), but the way their skills and perspectives intersect: deep musicality, a love of improvisation, thoughtful technique, and an infectious enthusiasm for social dance culture.

Meet the Teachers

Nancy Hitzig

Nancy is known internationally for her grounded, musical approach to swing dance and her ability to make complex ideas feel accessible. Her teaching centres on connection, rhythm, and personal expression – helping dancers move beyond memorised patterns and into truly responsive dancing. Nancy has taught at festivals, workshops, and community events around the world, and brings a wealth of experience working with dancers at all stages of their journey.

During her time in Cape Town, Nancy will be leading drop-in classes, open practices, beginner and advanced-level workshops, creating space for dancers to explore improvisation, musical nuance, and confident social dancing.

Cat Foley

Cat brings a playful, creative energy to the dance floor, with a strong emphasis on communication, adaptability, and joy in movement. Her teaching encourages curiosity and experimentation, helping dancers feel more comfortable taking risks and finding their own voice within the dance.

Cat’s background spans social dancing, performance, and teaching, and she has a particular knack for breaking down ideas in a way that feels encouraging rather than intimidating. Expect classes that are dynamic, engaging, and full of moments where things suddenly click.

Annette Walker

Annette Walker, MA, BSc (Hons), DipHE, is an improvising jazz tap dancer, researcher, and educator whose work bridges performance, history, and critical inquiry. She is a versatile performing artist across dance, acting, and music, and she has appeared in a wide range of international and national productions spanning theatre, circus, contemporary dance, and concert performance. Notably, she featured as a tap dance soloist at the BBC Proms 2019, performing Duke Ellington’s Sacred Music at the Royal Albert Hall in London.

Annette has been part of the tap dance and jazz community for over twenty years and is deeply committed to sharing both practice and history. She presents her work through workshops, talks, publications, and performance, and is a co-director of the Tap Dance Research Network UK as well as a co-founding member of the Jazz Dance Collective.

Learn more about Annette’s work at: https://linktr.ee/annetteuk

What’s Happening in February?

The February calendar is intentionally varied, offering multiple ways to engage:

• Weekly drop-in classes for beginners and intermediate dancers, followed by relaxed socials
• Weekend workshops ranging from beginner intensives to advanced sessions
• Special theme workshops, including improvisation and musicality
• Open practices with the teachers – a chance to ask questions, explore ideas, and dance together in an informal setting
• Parties and socials, including live jazz moments and collaboration with local venues
• Community events, such as a welcome night and talk, to connect dancers beyond the floor

You don’t need to commit to everything to benefit – come to a single class, a full workshop package, or dip in and out as your schedule allows. But we recommend purchasing a February bundle, for real value for money.

Special Talk: Buddy Bradley – Choreographing British Film and Theatre

Wednesday 4 February | Time & venue TBC

As part of the residency, Annette will present a dedicated talk on her research into African-American choreographer Buddy Bradley, a pivotal yet often under-credited figure in twentieth-century dance history.

In the late 1920s and early 1930s, Buddy Bradley coached many stars of American Broadway musicals, including Fred and Adele Astaire, Ruby Keeler, and Eleanor Powell. Despite being well known and well paid within show business, he rarely received theatre programme credit for choreographing productions with white casts in the United States.

In 1930, Bradley was invited to London to choreograph the West End show Ever Green, starring Jessie Matthews. This marked his first official choreographic credit and launched a prolific career in Britain. Over the following decades, he staged more than thirty musical productions and choreographed numerous British musical films during his thirty-eight years working in the UK.

Annette’s presentation introduces Bradley’s choreographic work through clips and examples from 1930s British film, drawing on jazz, tap dance, ballet, modern dance, social ballroom, and musical theatre. The talk places this material within a broader historical framework, examining how racial stereotypes and the “invisibilisation” of Africanist perspectives shaped the development of twentieth-century Western European dance.

This talk will be of particular interest to swing and jazz dancers, teachers, and anyone curious about the deeper histories that underpin the dances we love today.

Why You Shouldn’t Miss This

Geographically speaking, we’re out on a limb here in Cape Town! Cross-pollination from international dance scenes is rare; most of us jump at the chance to dance with a visiting overseas dancer! We are kind of in our own little bubble, out of touch with what’s happening in the world of Swing! We were excited when we thought we were getting one international teacher, but getting three is a gift to be embraced whole-heartedly.

A teaching residency offers continuity. Instead of a single weekend of inspiration, you’ll have the chance to work with the same teachers over several weeks, revisit ideas, ask follow-up questions, and integrate what you’re learning into your social dancing. Use the opn practice sessions to really hone your skills.

This residency is also about community. The mix of classes, workshops, practices, and parties is designed to bring dancers together, across levels, roles, and backgrounds, and to celebrate what makes the Cape Town swing scene so vibrant and welcoming.

If you’ve been feeling stuck, curious, rusty, or simply excited to dance more, don’t miss February’s International Teacher Takeover!

The post International Teacher Takeover! appeared first on Cape Town Swing.

Swing Camp 2025 brought together dancers of all levels for a long weekend of workshops, social dancing, live music, shared meals, and the small magical moments that make our community what it is. When I arrived at the Farmhouse on Thursday evening, I felt reassured by its familiarity, this being my fourth Swing Camp. However, familiarity doesn’t mean “the same”, and each camp has been a different experience, always with new people and new things to learn and discover.

This year, we began with some after-dinner community-building activities, facilitated by Safer Spaces team member Selina, to foster empathy, inclusivity and connection. It was nice to get to know each other a little better, right from the start. It really set the tone for the weekend.

On the drive home, exhausted but elated, we asked each other our highlight, lowlight, and something we were grateful for. I wanted to extend this question to the community, and the responses made me want to relive it all over again.

Simoné 

Highlight: Dancing with so many different dancers and picking up new things from each other.

Lowlight: Having to leave?? Wish it was a week long, it felt like I had just really gotten into the swing camp mode and then we had to leave .

Something I’m grateful for: Being able to catch up with old friends and meet new ones. Quiet, calm blues dances after swinging the f*ck out.

Ruby

Highlight: The Cabaret, the band, seeing and spending time with the community, the food, and the pool.

Lowlight: The heat and throwing my back out with decorating .

Something I’m grateful for: The community, the jazz cats making sh*t happen, seeing and reconnecting with friends, connecting with myself in the dance and music.

Wendy

Highlights from a first timer:
•⁠ ⁠Being immersed in dance for three days- it was just wonderful.
•⁠ ⁠Watching the teachers out of their teaching roles, doing what they do best at the Cabaret-WOW!
•⁠ ⁠Rozanne’s routine and Ruby singing were standout moments.
•⁠ ⁠The Balboa class!
•⁠ ⁠So many opportunities for improving my dancing.
•⁠ ⁠The late-night blues sessions.
•⁠ ⁠The feedback sessions, especially the interactive class with the band.
•⁠ ⁠The band! Incredible. And dancing to the live music was magical.
•⁠ ⁠The community feel around food prep, meals, and clean-ups.
•⁠ ⁠The delicious food!
•⁠ ⁠Loved the venue/s.
•⁠ ⁠Being amongst people who love dance.
•⁠ ⁠Getting to know people better.
•⁠ ⁠My CTS keyring and stickers!
•⁠ ⁠ALL the dancing made me so happy.

Lowlight: having to choose which parallel classes to go to, knowing I wanted to do them all.

So Grateful for:
•⁠ ⁠Being asked to dance
•⁠ ⁠The huge amount of behind-the-scenes work and effort to make this beautiful camp happen in such a seamless way.
•⁠ ⁠The kindness and friendliness shown to me.
•⁠ ⁠Being able to ask for help and getting feedback.
•⁠ ⁠The smaller, quieter moments of connection, just chatting to people 1 on 1.
•⁠ ⁠For patience from more experienced dancers.
•⁠ ⁠Pushing out my comfort zone to attend the camp ended up being the highlight of my year.

Amber

I always like to seek out the local dance communities when I’m abroad, and the camp just happened to coincide with a two-week trip to South Africa. A lovely way to conclude a great vacation.

Highlight: There were a few highlights for me, but the main thing was just how warm, friendly and inviting everyone was. This was something I noticed throughout the trip – all the South Africans we met were just so nice! And swing camp was no different. Even though I was a new face in a group that seemed pretty tight-knit, I never felt out of place.

More specifically, I liked lounging in the sunshine while Tyler was drawing caricatures by the pool, finally getting the Balboa basic down, and taking a moment to sneak off and stargaze.

Lowlight: Leaving in the middle of the night to drive to the airport after a mere two hours of sleep

Something I’m grateful for: Getting to share the joy of dancing with people on the other side of the world

Megan

As a first timer, I had no idea what to expect – I was anxiously excited. The swing camp far exceeded any expectation! It was so lovely to see a community of people share their knowledge about Swing dance with each other. A highlight for me was when, after each class, my dance ability and confidence grew a bit – it was so practical!

I felt a bit awkward in the beginning to dance with some of the more experienced dancers, but I can totally say that my lowlight was that the camp ended!

I’m really grateful that the sun didn’t blast me out of my tent at 6 am, as I assumed. (It was 7:15, though)

Thank you for the wonderful time together!

Tyler

I have such fond memories full of connection and wiggling on the dance floor with other wiggling folk. I learnt so much and felt my self-esteem as a swing dancing lead grow just a tiny bit more.

Learning to make various moves more accessible to me has been so rewarding, and thanks to the wonderful teachers for being so accommodating and helpful in that regard. Swing dancing should be for every body out there, and as a disabled person, I like Cape Town Swing’s inclusive approach.

I’ve been learning to improve communication with my dance partner before the dance, so it makes dancing even more fun.

A big highlight was the Groovology session, where we got to talk to the jazz band that strutted their stuff that same night. Brathew and the rest of the band inspired me to listen to more kinds of jazz and learn about the culture. Also, how they broke down what gives a song that swing! More highlights were meeting new people and connecting, initiating the doodle table at the last party of Swing camp, the Cabaret, and having delicious food cooked by Lisa Marie and the team.

My heart is full, I feel so grateful for the Cape Town Swing experience.

Jazz

My Highlight was a secret jam session I had with the band and a few lucky stragglers at midnight on Saturday. I kept DJing after the blues train left the station and somehow seduced the band back onto stage to jam!! Absolute heaven for me. They swapped instruments and played along to my last few songs and even had a boogie with us! That lil’ moment will probably keep me going for the next year or so!

My only lowlight was realising that what I’d planned to be my Balboa heels are way too tall! But luckily I didn’t break any shoes this time, unlike last year… mid-performance! Grateful toes!

I’m grateful for my second family. I couldn’t be more delighted to serve and be served by this community. I’m also so lucky to have people who support my passions and creativity. It was such a joy to illustrate merch for camp this year, and see the exact same joy on their faces as I felt when drawing them. What an absolutely beautiful reset of a weekend, with my swing siblings

Penelope

Apart from just having an amazing first Swing Camp, just an incredible time together with everyone, I think the best thing for me was the freedom that you feel to try new things, and the space that the teachers create in the class to be like, “now see if you can make a six-count move into an eight-count”, and try something new, and nobody’s critical at all. If it doesn’t go well, you just laugh it off and rotate and try again. I really appreciate having the freedom to be creative.

The lowlight, I would say, was having to choose between classes. Often I wanted to do both of the classes, so that was a bit difficult. And I would have liked more of a description of the class to make a better choice, but you can’t do it all, I get it.

I’m grateful for all the beautiful people, and for everyone who put it all together; it was just fantastic. Thanks so much.

Shahid

My highlight was all the first-time conversations I had with people (who are now new friends). There’s just something so magical about connecting with new folks and clicking right away. Everyone at the camp had such warm energy, and I left thinking that the world is actually a really beautiful place.

Also, special shoutout to my man Tyler Pike, who drew a hilarious caricature of me (which I plan to frame and hang in my office!). Definitely one of the highlights of both the camp and my year overall!

My lowlight is that I didn’t leave the camp as good a dancer as I’d hoped I’d become. For some reason, I thought four days of intensive dancing would turn me into Fred Astaire and obviously that was never going to happen. But that’s okay! It’s not so much of a lowlight as it is a shift in perspective. And I grew so much in the process that I found it equally rewarding anyway.

I also find it so exciting that I have so much room to grow, because it gives me a journey to look forward to.

Something I’m grateful for: Something I was thinking about on the drive home was that all the hard work I’ve put into my self-development this year was tested during the camp. Specifically surrounding my self-esteem and being the most authentic version of myself. At no time during the camp did I feel like I had to portray myself in a specific way in order to fit in, or that I needed to prove myself to anyone, even though I arrived at the camp not knowing anyone, nor having any friends there.

Yet I felt secure in telling my stories, sharing my sense of humour, and falling in love at the breakfast table with a bowl of overnight oats.

And I feel overwhelmed with gratitude that I’ve reached a stage in my life where that’s the case, because it wasn’t always.

Swing Camp 2025 is a memory I’ll cherish for the rest of my life (and I’ll definitely be back!).

Nishaat

Highlight: The feedback session with the band.

Lowlight: Missing the first feedback session because I was exhausted and needed a nap.

I’m grateful for this very special and awesome group of people (community) and, of course, the delicious, healthy food.

Cheyenne

Highlights
•⁠ ⁠I think it’s safe to say that a universal highlight for everyone is this incredibly welcoming and bubbly community we are a part of. The connections I made with those around me are what filled me up most. I loved waking up and eating together. Learning and growing in dance together, and of course, sharing many laughs and giggles together.
•⁠ ⁠⁠The class content was brilliantly suited to meet everyone’s level while equally challenging growth.
•⁠ ⁠⁠The balance of each day was intricately thought through, and I really felt like there was a perfect amount of space for rest and play!
•⁠ ⁠⁠If inclusion were a place, it would be Swing Camp. Everyone is invited to a judgment-free, open space. You may even surprise yourself and win the Jazzicat Competition

Lowlights
•⁠ ⁠Waking up on Monday morning without the distant chatter of others in the background created a little emptiness I needed to recalibrate to.

Gratitude
•⁠ ⁠I am infinitely grateful for each moment of this experience. For each person I shared a dance with, thank you for sharing your energy with me.
•⁠ ⁠⁠For each person who smiled and waved as we passed by on our merry way to things – thank you for including me.

Mary-Anne

As for me, the highlight was laughing so much that it actually hurt. And of course, the lovely dances I had with advanced dancers and total beginners alike. I felt proud that newcomers felt safe enough to get on the dancefloor and ask people to dance. My lowlight was standing on a bee halfway through Ruby and James’s Herräng class on Friday morning (why did I take my shoes off to leave the pavilion???). But I’m grateful for Muriel’s lightning-speed response to get me ice and antihistamines so that it didn’t become the showstopper I feared it would. As usual, I’m so grateful to be part of this community and for the amazing friendships it’s given me.

See you next time!

Gallery photos by James Hagen @james1wastaken

The post Swing Camp 2025 appeared first on Cape Town Swing.

At first glance, swing looks like a story of leader and follower; one gives direction, the other responds. But the real connection happens in the invisible space between them: the shared rhythm, the tiny adjustments, the playful give-and-take. Swing dancers often talk about “connection,” but what they’re really naming is this sacred space between. It’s not mine, and it’s not yours – it’s ours (for the dance). Relationships work the same way. True connection grows in the space between, where dialogue happens, trust, understanding, and vulnerability co-exist, missteps become opportunities, and something larger than either partner emerges. Connection isn’t about control, perfection, or even skill. It’s not about the lead or the follow, or one or the other partner, but what arises between them – a living, co-created space where presence, trust, and playfulness come alive.

In my daily life, I work with relationships – helping people communicate, build trust, and connect more deeply- and it’s intriguing to see how swing dance mirrors important relational concepts. 

Swing as a Conversation

The more I learn about swing, the more I notice that every step is really part of an ongoing conversation. A gentle pressure in the hand, a shift in weight, a shared pause before the music carries both partners forward again. The lead proposes, the follow responds, and together, in that fleeting moment on the dance floor, they create a story neither could tell alone.

It’s a story built on presence, trust, listening, responding, respect, and fun. This art of connection mirrors how we best meet each other in relationships. Deep bonds grow from the same back-and-forth rhythm: showing up, listening, understanding, and both partners taking responsibility for the space they share. This is where the real magic happens.

The Lost Art of Presence

In swing, you cannot be half-there. A glance, a hand gesture, a shift in direction demands full attention. There is no space for to-do reminders, checking phones, or the distractions of daily life. True connection requires us to be fully present – whether on the dance floor or in our relationships.

In our fast-paced world, filled with deadlines, technology, and constant notifications, this kind of presence feels rare. Yet it is the lifeblood of connection. When we show up fully for one another by listening, noticing, and responding, the co-created space between us comes alive. Presence is what allows trust, play, and dialogue to flourish, whether in dance or in a relationship.

Non-Verbal Communication

In swing, so much of the conversation happens without words: the subtle shift in weight, a raised hand gesture, a shared glance. The lead offers a signal, clear but not forceful. The follower responds with their own expression, not submission, and shapes the dance as an equal partner. It’s a dynamic, silent dialogue, co-created in real time, neither passive nor dominating.

In relationships, it’s no different. Most of what we communicate isn’t spoken at all. Studies suggest that only about 7% of making meaning comes from the actual words we use, while 93% of meaning is carried through our non-verbal communication. Through eye contact, facial expressions, tone & intensity, gestures, body language, proximity, and timing, we do the bulk of our communicating. Even in silence, we are communicating.

It’s in non-verbal communication that true connection emerges. When our words, non-verbal expressions, and presence align, trust deepens. And, like on the dance floor, when we stop trying to control the steps and instead truly listen –  with our eyes, our hands, our awareness – the rhythm between partners begins to shift, and something alive and responsive takes shape.

Trust and Vulnerability

I’m learning that to follow in swing is to let go, and to lead is to guide. I smile thinking about how many times a lead has said to me, “Relax your arm.” Both roles ask for vulnerability: a willingness to listen, to give, and to be changed by the other.

Swing reminds me how essential trust is to creating a safe connection, and vulnerability allows it to deepen. The safer and more trusted a relationship feels, the more freely each person can express themselves. This means being open to another’s experience, allowing their view of the world to make sense within their reality, even when it differs from our own. It’s a gentle kind of faith: through listening, attunement, and respect, the two perspectives can move together without losing their individuality. 

Connection Beyond Technique

I sometimes see dancers who know all the steps but never quite connect, and others whose technique is imperfect yet whose presence lights up the room. The same is true in relationships. Magic doesn’t come from seeking perfection or rehearsed lines; it comes from showing up fully in the moment.

Of course, there are skills to learn, techniques to practice, and processes to understand – both in swing and in relationships. But what transforms a sequence into a living connection is awareness, curiosity, and the willingness to respond, adjust, and stay attuned to the other person. Care and curiosity allow each dance, each interaction, to become unique and meaningful. In the end, connection happens not in flawless execution, but in presence, responsiveness (even through imperfection), and the co-created rhythm that emerges between two people.

Playfulness and Improvisation

Swing dance is joyfully unpredictable, with neither partner knowing exactly how it will unfold. In the space between, there’s laughter, surprise, and the freedom to make mistakes. When I mix up my 6 and 8 counts, step on my lead’s toes, or turn the wrong way, there’s always room for adjusting, pausing, and restarting (and gratitude for the generous dose of patience I get). Missteps aren’t failures. They become part of playful improvisation when needing to adapt, or adjust, and to keep moving together. What a lesson for relationships!

Playfulness is just as essential in relationships. Over time, work, family, and daily pressures can cause partners to disconnect from play, laughter, and spontaneity. Yet connections need and thrive in lightness, curiosity, and delight. Approaching each other with a playful, open spirit keeps dialogue alive, transforms mistakes into opportunities for growth, and reminds us that fun and joy are as important as trust and communication in sustaining a meaningful connection.

Swing dance reminds me that true connection is an alive, vulnerable, responsive energy shaped by two people. Relationships, like a swing dance, exist in this shaped energy. Whether your dance lasts three minutes or thirty years, both swing and relationships ask the same question: “Would you like to dance?”  And by accepting the dance, what matters most isn’t a perfect step, but the shared creating, the rhythm, the trust, the laughter, the vulnerability, the joy, and the courage to stay present when missteps happen. The dance belongs to the space between – that living, co-created space, built together, moment by moment, step by step, dance by dance.

The post The Space Between: What Swing Dance Teaches Us About Relationships appeared first on Cape Town Swing.

I’m going to be honest. Solo jam circles make me panic. Sure, it can be fun and inspiring to watch great dancers pull out their best moves, and I admire their bravery and confidence. But the thought of jumping in makes my palms sweat, and there is something about the energy I perceive around me, which may be a projection of my own reaction, that puts me on edge.

I feel reasonably confident when I social dance, and I often solo jazz on the sidelines. At parties and gigs, I dance my socks off without much care for who is watching. In my younger days, this would require vast amounts of alcohol, but now dancing feels so natural that I don’t need a drop. But put me on a stage or in a circle and I freeze. I don’t know what to do with my limbs, and I seem to lose all sense of rhythm. Cape Town Swing’s first competition was introduced last Swing Camp – The Jazzicat Solo Jazz Competition – and I was chuffed to be selected to compete, but soon horrified. My minute or so went by in a whirl of uncoordinated amnesia: I had forgotten almost every solo move I’d ever learned. Perhaps a Hallelujah Rock and a Camel Walk made it in there, I’m not sure- I daren’t recall. Luckily, we danced in pairs, and I was with my dear friend, with whom I’ve shared many a silly dance, and who gets far less fazed by these things, and he reminded me to just have fun.

I know I’m not alone. I’ve spoken to many people who recoil at the idea of jam circles, whether birthday steals, partnered jams, or solo performances. We are all infected with the “I’m not good enough” epidemic so prevalent in our society. We watch others let go and enjoy being the centre of attention, and believe that something is fundamentally wrong with our personality because we can’t feel the same abandon. We worry about being rubbish, so our anxiety makes us rubbish. I’m being open about my feelings in the hope that others will find comfort: you are not alone!

Indeed, this focus on the self as being separate from the collective, and the subsequent feeling of exposure and vulnerability, is a symptom of our individualistic, Western culture. Through capitalism and urbanisation, we have lost, to a large degree, our sense of interconnectedness, and we strive for individualism and personal success. I could go on at length about the causes and effects of the “cult of the self” that has emerged over time, but don’t worry, I’ll stick to dancing.

I find it interesting that despite the overwhelming resistance to jam circles, they are pushed in the Lindy scene. The introduction of the Jazzicat competition in Cape Town Swing was an endeavor to introduce a competitive element, raise our dancing standards. We can’t just comfortably plateau forever; we need to leave our comfort zone and find new levels to conquer. It’s difficult to argue that there’s nothing like competition to raise the bar. Back at the Savoy Ballroom, regular competitions inspired new, innovative moves: Frankie Manning was famous for inventing competition-winning aerials. The desire to win catapulted Lindy Hop from a niche social dance to a global phenomenon. Whitey’s Lindy Hoppers became so good that they travelled the world and featured in Hollywood movies.

But then again, Lindy Hop back then was very different from what we know now, and let’s not forget that its roots lie in African American culture, influenced by African philosophy. The jam circles that our Western minds fear were born from the idea “we are because I am”, of being a unique individual within a collective, a place where individuality is celebrated in community.

While drafting this post, I received input from CTS teacher, Rozanne Jonck, that has changed the way I view jam circles, and, in fact, makes me feel guilty for holding such negative ideas. It’s always good to have unhealthy thoughts challenged and realise that it’s not the situation or other people, but you who holds you back!

Rozanne’s take on jam circles

I totally get why many people dislike jam circles. It’s easy to see them as “oh look at me” moments, and that can feel uncomfortable. But I think that perspective comes from looking at them through a more Western lens, where being in the spotlight = performance = showing off. Maybe there is a small component of showing off, but I think there is much more to it than that.

In the original cultural context, jam circles aren’t about ego. They’re a celebration of life and individuality within the community, rooted in African traditions, where call-and-response, Ubuntu, and collective encouragement are central. The circle exists so the group can lift you up, not judge you.

With social media mainly being a platform where the best “you” is shown, and with independence and isolation of most areas of our lives being the norm (like living alone, being financially self-reliant vs living in community), it makes sense that we are uncomfortable with this at first.

Of course, confidence plays a big role. Most people don’t feel ready, and that’s normal. But confidence doesn’t arrive before we try; it comes from doing. In a way, faking it is the best way to find it. Like being thrown into the deep end, it feels scary, but that’s how you learn to swim, or shall we say to “swing”. The more we practice anything, the more natural it will feel. It’s just a matter of keeping on putting your most authentic self out there.

For me, jam circles aren’t about “showing off.” They’re about being inspired, encouraging others, and allowing yourself to be vulnerable in a joyful, supportive space. When handled with inclusivity and warmth, they can shift from a feeling of pressure to one of empowerment and celebration – no matter the level of the dancer. Oftentimes, I have enjoyed seeing people‘s smiles on the dancefloor, doing silly, made-up moves more than carefully thought-out choreographies.

They help condition us out of imposter syndrome. They ask us to initiate our own participation rather than being pressured into it, even if it feels uncomfortable at first. That act of stepping in willingly and without direct invitation is what makes it powerful.

So, in short, I think it is mostly a mindset change that will be the most impactful in handling that discomfort, but practicing solo jazz and really just dancing your heart out in a room with no judgment, whether by yourself or in a non-judgmental community, can help build confidence. But ultimately, throwing yourself in there (regardless of confidence) is going to be the best way to overcome the fear.

The power of choosing to step in

Although solo jam circles still fill me with dread, I want to step out of my comfort zone and embrace their joy and liberation, because nothing good ever comes from listening to the voice that says “I’m not good enough”. And I love the idea that your uniqueness as an individual is vital to the collective: that you are no better or worse or more or less important than anybody else – you are an integral part of the whole. This idea shifts attention away from the self and onto the cohesiveness of the group, which I find quite comforting.

But let’s be honest, it’s not all about philosophy, psychology, and the human condition. As Rozanne pointed out, part of the reason I dread solo jam circles is that I simply don’t train enough! I forget the moves because I don’t learn them with intention. I dance around on the sidelines, not thinking too much about which move is which and if they fit together coherently. It’s kind of like speaking a language that you never really studied, and not giving too much thought to grammar, as long as you have some basics to get by. You can enjoy your holiday, but you’re not going to give a presentation to a board of directors.

So, Cape Town Swing community (and beyond, I hope), how can we feel more confident about our solo jazz? I reached out to the team and got some great ideas from them.

Jazz’s training tips

• I find doing solo jazz by myself at home and filming it to be the most helpful thing.
• Pick a few moves and drill them, and then add them to lots of different songs. I have a pretty decent vocabulary, but it’s really hard to remember in the moment.
• Learn some solo routines because when you learn a choreography, you have to drill it, and then you’ll just have it in your back pocket. You can choose a phrase from the trickeration to throw into a solo jazz circle, because it’s just much easier to remember that way.
• Write down on a piece of paper a few solo jazz moves, stick it to the wall, put a song on (doesn’t have to be a swing song- try different genres), and play around with the same few moves. Having them written down on a piece of paper means you don’t go blank, and then you can play with musicality in different genres.

Rozanne’s training tips

• Throw yourself in there more often.
• Try dancing more alone during socials to become comfortable solo dancing in front of people.
• To find your own voice – dance your heart out alone in your own home, without any eyes on you.
• ⁠Watch videos or attend solo jazz classes to practice the moves to get them part of your muscle memory (Laura Glaess and so many resources are on YouTube). That will definitely lessen the discomfort to some degree, but I don’t think it is required to have fun in a jam circle. Come as you are, and if you have more to give, give what you have! Because it might just inspire someone or bring a smile to someone‘s face.

Nicole’s jam circle tips

• Keep it short to start – you don’t have to feel you need to be in the centre for the full “chorus”.
• Prepare an entrance (eg, Camel Walks/Suzy Qs/Shorty Georges) and exit (boogie back/fish tails) you can always use to “round off your turn”.
• Go into the middle with someone else (you could do a call and response)
• If you have another dancing background, feel free to throw in your own style/moves to make it your own.
• When you enter, exaggerate moves (big movements with body/arms/legs, and maybe add a height change. Snapping/clicking might also be a cool addition) to make it clear to the person in the middle that you are coming in. It also makes a stylish entrance!
• Fake it till you make it! The audience resonates with confidence rather than fancy moves.

Both Jazz and Nicole recommend participating in the Jazzuary challenge. Several people at CTS have undertaken this challenge and agree that the daily practice and accountability have a big impact on dance confidence and fluency. You can read about Jayne’s Jazzuary journey here.

Solo jazz makes us better dancers

It’s not all about the circles. Having fluency in solo jazz improves our partnered dancing exponentially. You add little flourishes and bring the dance to life. Jazz told me, “I’m super passionate about [solo jazz], and it has made me a far better dancer, especially follower, as I have learned to find every single second that I can experiment and play with. And I think a better leader, too, because I have fun doing simple things but in an interesting, new way, and I think it makes me a more considerate leader, I hope, leaving more space for my followers to play.”

This playfulness is key to Lindy Hop. You don’t want to stick to a “rock step triple step, triple step” forevermore, do you? No, you can do so much more within a dance: play with the music, experiment, express yourself, and interact with your partner in different ways, as long as you stay in time and don’t mess up your partner’s experience. My favourite dances are not the ones with a load of complicated moves, but the ones where we play with the music and with each other, where one of us does some footwork that the other likes and then copies, and maybe two phrases later, you sync that footwork and you get a rush of exhilaration because you connected so seamlessly and invented your own little dance conversation.

Let’s solo jazz and join those jam circles! Because it’s fun (once we let go), because it makes us better dancers, and because we get to connect to a partner or group as a unique individual. And remember, no one is judging you except yourself!

The post Dancing Through Doubt: Lessons from the Jam Circle appeared first on Cape Town Swing.

I love Lindy Hop because it’s high-energy, bouncy, and fun. I love West Coast because it’s languid, stretchy, and musically diverse. What they have in common is that they provide space for creativity and improvisation. In both dances, the follower can instigate a conversation, add their flair, and redirect the dance. In both, the leader allows for and enjoys this autonomy, rather than dictating the dance. While many of the moves are similar, the general feel is so different that it’s hard to believe that West Coast grew from Lindy Hop.

Since I often seem to be persuading people to take up one or the other (or both), I get asked a lot, “What’s the difference?” And then East Coast Swing also enters the picture: Surely it’s regular Lindy Hop; two variations of Swing Dance: East Coast (Lindy) or West Coast? Maybe they’re thought to be rivals, like hip hop in the 1990s. 

This is certainly not the case, and with this blog, I hope to shed some light on the origins of and differences between Lindy Hop, East Coast, and West Coast Swing. 

Swing dance is the umbrella term for a group of lively partner dances that originated in the 1920s–40s to swing jazz music, characterised by rhythmic footwork, improvisation, and a joyful, energetic style. Lindy Hop was one of those Swing dances (along with Charleston, Balboa, and Collegiate Shag), and from it, East and West Coast Swing were born. They share a common ancestor, but each has its own personality, music, and movement style. 

Lindy Hop: The Original Swing  

Origins

Emerging in Harlem around 1928, Lindy Hop evolved naturally among African American dancers, blending jazz, Charleston, tap, and breakaway into a high-energy partner dance. It quickly gained prominence in the 1930s during the swing era, especially through the Savoy Ballroom, and featured iconic moves such as the swing out and air steps (though these are reserved for competitions, not the social floor). Whitey’s Lindy Hoppers helped launch the dance to fame, with international performances and Hollywood movies. It began as a Black, vernacular dance, but Lindy’s popularity spread like wildfire and became extremely popular among white dancers. 

Lindy Hop enjoyed a whirlwind heyday, and people all over the world couldn’t get enough of it. But, as we will see in the next section, it ran out of steam and was taken over by a simpler form. However, the dance experienced a revival in the 1980s, thanks to original Lindy Hop dancers like Frankie Manning and Norma Miller, who worked tirelessly to keep the dance alive. Swing became a subculture, and Lindy Hop became a craze once more, but this time it endured the passing of time and remains popular today. 

Charactaristics

• Lindy Hop is not a pattern dance. Although it became somewhat codified in learning spaces to 6- and 8-count, dancers completely break out of those patterns and expertly follow individual weight shifts. 
• The swingout is an 8-count staple.
• While the swingout is linear, partners often rotate around each other during a dance.
• It’s athletic and improvisational, with signature, aerials, swingouts, and a distinct “bounce.”

Music

• Classic swing jazz and big band music from the 1930s–40s—think Count Basie, Chick Webb, and Duke Ellington.

East Coast Swing: The Simplified Cousin

Origins

If you watch old footage of the original Lindy Hop dancers, you’ll see how wild and unconstrained it was! As it gained popularity among white folk, it was somewhat tamed to be more teachable. So, in the 1940s, a simplified, studio-taught version of Lindy Hop was designed by ballroom dance instructors—particularly within the Arthur Murray and Fred Astaire studio networks—to make swing dancing more accessible to the general public.

While Lindy Hop was improvisational, East Coast Swing standardised the steps into a basic 6-count pattern (rock step, triple step, triple step), which was easier to teach to beginners in a short time. This codification coincided with the rise of big band swing and early rock ’n’ roll music, making it a perfect social dance for the era’s popular tunes.

By the 1950s, East Coast Swing was widely taught across the U.S., became a staple at high school dances and community events, and served as the foundation for many later swing dance variations. It became synonymous with the Jitterbug and even influenced Rockabilly dance styles. The Jitterbug had instilled itself in US culture, spread to other parts of the world, and become disassociated from its Harlem roots. 

Why did East Coast Swing become known as the Jitterbug? Well, in 1934, Cab Calloway wrote a song called “Call of the Jitterbug.” In African American jazz slang of the time, a jitterbug could mean a nervous or hyperactive person, or someone who’d had a bit too much “jitter sauce” (alcohol). It is widely thought that white audiences, hearing the term through music and films, began using “jitterbug” to describe Lindy Hop. However, Norma Miller states in her book that the name was coined by black Lindy Hoppers who thought the white dancers looked like “jitterbugs” jittering around the floor with no real sense of rhythm and style!  

Characteristics 

• Predominantly a 6‑count dance, though some 8‑count variations exist.
• Basic footwork often follows rock step – triple step – triple step (chasse) 
• Bouncy, energetic, with rise-and-fall dynamics and playful flicks and kicks 
• Circular or spot-style movement.

Music

• Fast swing, rock ’n’ roll, jump blues, rockabilly—the faster, the better. 

West Coast Swing: Smooth, Slotted, and Versatile

In the 1930s, Lindy Hop made its way to the West Coast, where it was adopted by white dancers. Probably of most importance was actor and dancer, Dean Collins, a Lindy Hopper from New York who was heavily influenced by the Harlem dancers. He moved to Los Angeles in the late 1930s and brought that Harlem style to dance halls and competitions. It was unlike anything California had seen before! Collins won numerous competitions and starred in movies with partners Bertha Lee and Jewel McGowen. The dance’s popularity led to a smoother, more linear adaptation of Lindy Hop, shaped by both the constraints of crowded dance floors and the influence of Hollywood film choreography. By the 1940s, it had become more like the slotted style we see now, where partners move back and forth along a line rather than in a circle.

This evolving style was later influenced by Western swing music, blues, and slower tempos, which encouraged a more upright posture and an elastic connection between partners. By the 1950s, the dance was sometimes called “Western Swing” or “California Swing.” It was only in the 1960s that it became widely known as “West Coast Swing”.

From the 1970s onward, instructors like Skippy Blair helped codify the dance with modern teaching methods, introducing the term “anchor step” and developing a clear syllabus. Over time, West Coast Swing expanded beyond its jazz and blues roots to embrace R&B, funk, soul, and contemporary pop, making it an incredibly versatile Swing dance. 

In her biography, Norma Miller observes the emergence and takeover of West Coast Swing as a matter of inevitable societal change. While she laments the demise of Lindy Hop and worked hard (along with others such as Frankie Manning and his son Chazz Young) to keep it alive, she shows no hostility or resentment towards the direction the dance took: it simply became the new flavour.

Its versatility has allowed West Coast Swing to endure. Musically and stylistically, it is incredibly adaptable, and with my Westie friends, I’ve danced to a huge variety of tempos and genres, even electronic house music. With the changing music through the ages, the dance itself changes and adapts. Nowadays, contemporary dance influences can be seen at the competition level; the balletic pirouettes and expression make the footwork rule almost obsolete. But within the same competition, you will see hip hop, blues, and funk influences, too. Plus a great deal of artistic licence and humour in interpreting the songs. 

Characteristics

• Known for its “slotted” movement—partners travel back and forth in a narrow line rather than rotating in a circle.
• Basic patterns like push‑break, side pass, whip, and sugar push; includes both 6‑ and 8‑count structures and the characteristic “anchor step”. Like Lindy, patterns are broken to allow for improvisation and interpretation.
• Smooth, elastic connection with emphasis on stretch and compression.
• Highly improvisational, with room for both partners to add styling.

 Music

• Originally danced to big band swing, it later became highly adaptable: blues, R&B, contemporary pop, funk, and even slower tempos. 

So, we can think of Swing dance as the collective term for the dances that emerged during the swing era. They paved the way for new styles to emerge from them, or to simply keep evolving, until almost all traces of the dance that birthed them are erased. East Coast Swing is not another word for Lindy Hop, nor is it the rival of West Coast Swing! Both grew from Lindy Hop as a result of the changing times. To use East Coast Swing as a synonym of Lindy Hop is to deny the latter’s importance in history as a pioneering, rebellious, and society-changing Black dance. Being so musically and stylistically different from the original Swing dances, it’s easy to think that West Coast Swing is a style all of its own, born perhaps from contemporary or Latin dances. Yet it emerged as a direct result of Lindy Hop’s popularity, and at first was not so distinct.  

Personally, I don’t believe that one dance style is superior to another- if they get people moving and smiling, then great. I do think, however, that we should know where our dances came from and credit them correctly.

The post The Evolution of Swing Dance: Lindy Hop, East Coast, and West Coast. What’s the Difference? appeared first on Cape Town Swing.

“Well I was born to dance. It’s a sacred duty, like being in love, and eventually I’ll reach some great conclusion.”  Frank O’Hara, Lunchtime Poems.

This piece is one part of a series of informal conversations centred on the theme of dancing and dating, addressed by two members of the Safer Spaces team: Alex and Selina. Alex, as a newbie to Swing, wanted to explore some of the tangible and intangible aspects of dance and romance with the better travelled Selina and so Alex asked the questions. What follows is an edited version of that conversation. 

Alex: In the world of ideas, it’s easy to feel like you are all “mind”. While listening to music and dancing, I am “body” with somebody else, I am touched. 

Selina: For me, dancing is partly about touch. When I think about the continuum of touch, touch can be platonic, joyful, playful and it can also be erotic; it can signal intimacy, connection, affection, sensuality, and can be but it doesn’t have to be connected to sexual interest. 

I feel that dancing also has a wider aura of romance. Whether that’s constructed through films and weddings and it probably is, we are primed to look at two people dancing together —and say, “Oh, that’s romantic”. And maybe there’s some truth to that. When we are invited to dance by someone else, we are invited to connect, to feel, to touch. We can connect that with romance. 

But whilst dance and romance may sometimes accompany one another, like two friends, I don’t think they are fused like siamese twins.

Alex: Can you say more about that fusion?

Selina: When I dance, my main ‘romance’ is with the music and the movement. I may invite someone to share that wider ‘romance’ with me. If I invite someone to a comedy show, I invite them to share laughter with me. While we may share laughter together, we won’t fuse each other with the source of our laughter: the comedian. We would be confused if we did. While dancing with someone else to music, we might confuse the source of our joy—the dance and music—with our specific dance partner. There is such a wonderfulness in sharing that dance moment too, especially if we feel like we are floating on air after the dance is over, that it’s easy for some to confuse the romance of the moment with a romance with the person.  If a comedian and a stage can create moments of shared laughter, dancing to music can create moments of shared romance. 

Alex: Ah, that’s lovely! 

Selina: And I love being able to do that with dance; the chance to experience shared romantic moments with dozens of people. It doesn’t have to mean all the other things that romance can mean. And what a relief! Like, what if you want to dance with a friend or a family member? I started learning Swing dancing with my Dad! With Kizomba in Angola, everyone dances it with their grandmothers. Our definitions of touch in dance need to encompass all of these possibilities. 

Ultimately, I believe that dance and dating should be things that, if they happen, take place in parallel. If  dating becomes the secret or sole priority behind partner dancing then the questions a person may ask in a dance space may not be primarily about dancing but become about other aspects: what should I wear to dance class? Who do I find most attractive here? Who are the people my age? Are they wearing a wedding ring? How can I try to only dance with them? Of course, if you are single, these may be valid questions, but it can reduce the wider joy of dancing! You want to dance with fewer people, or specific people, and may also share fewer invitations.

Dancing should be something we come to because we love dance and music and have a romance with those things. If romantic love for another happens along the way, then wonderful! But there are other wonderful things that can happen too, like learning other ways to touch through dance or experience other meanings of joy, romance or intimacy. 

Alex: For my first Swing class, Brendan said Swing helps people learn how to touch platonically.

Selina: The notion of platonic touch is incredibly important. Just because I have focused attention above on how dancing can feel romantic in some ways, I think it’s equally important that we can connect into touch without romantising it.  There are some cultures and places where touch is abundant. In other places, touching other people safely has to be learned, and Cape Town Swing can play a role to help people learn this. And that’s a massive statement in this country! In South Africa, and in many other parts of the world, touch is hyper-sexualised, it is often unwanted, and many people, especially women,  find it difficult to describe their own boundaries and have their boundaries respected. This can create problems in dance spaces in particular. 

Our society may become much healthier when people can connect within a song and enjoy a few minutes with someone else. If this safe touch has to be learned, then we have to be intentional about creating safe spaces where touching, feeling and connecting through dancing can be both consensual and are protected from abuse or misinterpretation. 

In being consensual and intentional, it’s not about being the safety police or consent cops or whatever, it’s about saying: how do I learn to do touch? How do I learn not to sit and wait for a man to ask me to dance? How do I learn to feel like I can say no? How do we navigate dancing well in close holds? How can I put someone else at ease? Can I enjoy the feeling of romance in a dance and learn to let go of it after it has ended? How can I be sensitive to the other person’s needs?

Alex: Cape Town Swing seems intentional about helping people do that.

Selina: Yes, at Cape Town Swing, I feel that we are intentional in at least two ways. 

We protect the experience of dance from our socially defined pre-existing boxes about what touch means. Otherwise, taking someone’s hand or moving them closer to you on the dance floor can be unintentionally interpreted as something other than dancing. We want to protect people from these misinterpretations. Since the dance community is an open community, new people arrive to connect and some people may even arrive with intentions to get close in uncomfortable or inappropriate ways. Our space has to be able to also protect dancers from people like that.  

So, to get back to your question: if we are intentional, then we also protect the space against unintentional misinterpretation and against people entering with harmful intentions. 

We do this for a simple reason: to realise this beautiful thing that makes us vulnerable. 

Alex: On that point… Suppose there’s a duck-outta-water (me) who has never learned how to dance before but has been raised in a culture where prolonged touch is often erotic by default but wants to learn. What’s your advice to make that shift?

Selina: That’s why I feel it’s important to have agreed verbal and non-verbal cues in dance spaces so we don’t default into the erotic. It’s particularly important for new people in Swing and also for those coming into the scene from other dance styles. We need to know what those cues are and to have those conversations because what feels OK is also different with each style. 

Swing and Lindy Hop focus on joy and a kind of open-holded connection which makes it more clearly platonic. There are other styles of dance that are more sensual, like Burlesque or Kizomba, and there’s also Blues. Blues comes from a tradition of lament and so while there is a slower tempo and at times a closer embrace it’s not by definition sensual because there are many ways to do Blues. 

I did a Blues night at my house and one of the things we did was talk about how we each like to dance Blues and what we are comfortable with. It gave us the chance to speak freely. Some people liked closed embrace and some preferred solo dancing. What was nice about that was when I started dancing with people there, I already had a sense of what someone liked. Without having that conversation, I may have taken it personally if someone said no to dancing with me which can happen in the scene. Talking about it, having the conversation, makes things easier. 

And what a gift the dance community is if we can practice ways of making people feel comfortable whilst being vulnerable! What a gift it is if it helps us to realise how to touch one another in a way that feels safe and joyful. Where there is so much talk of what we might call ‘toxic relationships’, it matters that we are able to create spaces where people of all genders and sexual orientations can learn to dance together.

The post Touching Matters: Dance and Romance appeared first on Cape Town Swing.

Set in 1980s New Orleans, the birthplace of Swing, the story revolves around the wedding of a Louisiana governor. The two men who work for him as secretaries are in love with his cousin’s daughter. This leaves another southern belle – who loves one of the lads – out in the cold. The “plantation hands”, Carter wrote, “decide to perform A Midsummer Night’s Dream as the wedding entertainment, and the four lovers wander into the magic woods where their love affairs are first entangled and then straightened out by the magic of Oberon, King of the Pixies. All of this forms a background for Jackie Mabley and her company of actors to stumble through the lines of a mock rehearsal of their play” (The Guardian, 2021).

This no-holes-barred production at the 3,700-seater Center Theatre on Broadway, New York, was sure to bring in a crowd. In her book Swingin’ at the Savoy, Norma Miller describes the lead-up to opening night with great enthusiasm: the star treatment they received, the plushness of the theatre, the sets (based on Walt Disney’s designs), the stars, the musical greatness of Mugsy Spaniel, Lionel Hampton, Charlie Christian, Benny Goodman and more. I’d love to hear Bill Bailey singing a capella with a choir. I wish I could see how the story was adapted to be relevant to the Swing-era U.S.A. I’d give anything to see Louis Armstrong as Bottom! 

But sadly, I never will because the play tanked, with no footage or recordings to resurrect it. After only 13 nights, the final show was “performed with a lot of tears and heartbreak” (Miller, 1996). As Young Vic’s artistic director,  Kwame Kwei-Armah, rather dramatically puts it, “It’s almost like a kind of murder mystery. The play was butchered by the press, and somehow the body has disappeared” (New York Times, 2021).

What went wrong? There is no footage and only fragments of the script, so the reasons for its failure will never be clear, and we only have reviews and opinions of the time to go by. According to Norma Miller, the audience reacted positively on the opening night: “We had a big number in the second act which opened with Goodman playing a number. The applause seemed to go on forever”. However, she goes on to say how they were “devastated by the reviews that came the next day, which called the show a “mishmash of Shakespeare and Swing”. 

Swing was the craze of the day, and the jazz adaptations of the Gilbert and Sullivan operetta, The Swing Mikado (1938) and The Hot Mikado (1939), both with black casts, had enjoyed success, despite debates over negative racial stereotypes. Reviews of these shows were positive, albeit rather condescending, with the usual racial slurs of the 1930s. But something didn’t hit right with Swingin’ the Dream. It didn’t even provoke cringingly racist reviews like “The performers grin and strut and begin stamping out the hot rhythms with an animal frenzy. ‘Za-zu-za-z”, as The Swing Mikado did.

It also couldn’t have been the concept of Swingin’ Shakespeare because The Boys from Syracuse, the first major Shakespeare musical based on The Comedy of Errors, was a roaring success. “Its all-white cast made effective use of swing, and the show ran for 235 performances” (The Guardian, 2021).  As James Shapiro pointed out, “The defining feature of the emerging Shakespeare musical was hybridity: mixing musical styles, mixing Shakespeare’s language with contemporary American idiom, mixing highbrow and lowbrow – and, in Swingin’ the Dream mixing races, establishing a precedent for Kiss Me, Kate and West Side Story. But getting the mix right wasn’t easy” (ibid).

So, the success of these adaptations shows that a black cast would not necessarily close a show during this racially oppressive time, nor was it the incompatibility of jazz and Shakespeare. Perhaps, then, the problem was black people performing Shakespeare.  A review in the Time suggests, in no uncertain terms, that white audiences may not have been ready for a predominantly black Shakespeare production: “No self-respecting Bard-hunter would stalk such mongrel prey”. The Boston Globe simply warned, “The cast will be Negro”. 

Yet, there was an audience for the opening show, and as Norma Miller pointed out, plenty of applause for the jazz numbers. So it wasn’t necessarily the blackness of the cast that was off-putting, but perhaps the dynamics of the creators’ seemingly progressive vision that missed the mark.

For a start, the venue was all wrong. Reading Norma Miller’s memoir, it becomes clear that the most successful Lindy Hop performances were those with audience interaction, in which the performance fed upon the audience’s enthusiasm and vice versa. The shows she recalls as the best were the ones with the whoops and hollers of the crowd, their closeness and excitement. The Centre Theatre was vast and cavernous and didn’t allow the intimacy and engagement that such an art form thrives upon. According to a postmortem in Theatre Arts Monthly, “A dreadful distance separated the audience from dancers and music alike. Even the Pied Piper of Manhattan, Benny Goodman himself, could not draw his followers from the misty wastes of that huge and too elegant auditorium” (The Guardian, 2021). 

Equally, while praising the production’s “sheer mass and charge”, the review concluded that the “showmanship was not there, nor any ingenuity in direction or planning which would have made a collection of brilliant ideas a functioning whole” (ibid). It seems that director Erik Charell did not understand the essence of Swing and what made it so popular. It was improvised and vernacular; each musician and dancer brought their flavour: Norma Miller describes how each of Whitey’s Lindy Hoppers had their distinctive trademark move or style, even within a tightly choreographed piece, and it was understood that no dancer was to copy another. This freedom of expression can be seen clearly in dances like the Big Apple and even in Hollywood movies like Hellzapoppin’. However, according to critics of the day, Swingin’ the Dream’s black performers were not given the improvisational freedom that would have made this ambitious show a success. Writing in the Pittsburgh Courier, William G Nunn faulted Charell for failing to “allow his super cast of stars to be themselves” (The Guardian, 2021).

Critics agreed that there was too much Shakespeare and not enough Swing – I guess an audience attracted by the jazz giants that the show had to offer wanted to see Jazz. They wanted to see Louis Armstrong blow his horn, not recite monologues. In fact, frantic revisions were made in an attempt to save the show, giving Armstrong more trumpet time, but it was too little too late, and it couldn’t raise the sinking ship.

Erik Charrel clearly had an eye for stage production, but he didn’t understand that Swing had soul. The play contained no vernacular language or autonomy on the part of the performers. Bud Freeman, one of the few white artists in the production, later wrote in his autobiography that “if Charell had known the greatness of the black people, he could have had a revue that would still be running”. For Jeffrey Horowitz, the founding artistic director of Theater for a New Audience, not bringing in a Black co-writer was a big missed opportunity. “There’s no person in that writing team who knows anything about African-American culture and jazz,” he said. “They could have had Langston Hughes, they could have had Zora Neale Hurston. I don’t think they even thought of that” (The Times, 2021).

The world of the play mirrored this control placed over the artists: the lords and lovers were played by white actors, and the roles of the plantation workers and entertainers fell to the black cast. This, in turn, echoed societal structures of the time, which black audiences probably would not have wanted played out on the stage. I’ve found no complaints from the black artists about the racial stereotypes and typecasting, only enthusiasm for the spectacular. Those were times of financial hardships, and the production was praised for offering jobs to so many black artists. However,  Philip Carter asked in the Amsterdam News (one of New York’s most prominent black newspapers): “There are those who may feel that the Dream deserves the same sort of support of any other enterprise when there are 150 Negroes drawing salaries. But the same high ideals will cause still others to feel that such support only shoves farther into the distant future the day when Negro actors and Negro art will be recognised without lampooning and burlesque” (The Times, 2021). 

Apparently, the play appealed to no one then: it offered neither Swinging entertainment nor a racial revolution. It was too black for white Shakespeare aficionados and too minstrelesque for a highbrow black audience. It was too much of a nothingness, by all accounts, and cost the producers today’s equivalent of $2m. By the end of the run, they were giving tickets away just to fill seats.  

Yet in 2020, the Royal Shakespeare Company, the Young Vic and New York’s Theater for a New Audience teamed up to salvage the remaining fragments of the script and attempt to resuscitate this massive flop. I am maddeningly curious to see the final result, but it seems to have vanished from the internet. It was due to stream via the RSC website on January 9th 2021, but I cannot find a shred of evidence that it ever happened. The articles I’ve read about it were published in the lead-up to the streaming, but nothing has been said about its delivery. The project took place during the COVID-19 pandemic, so who knows what may have transpired. I’ve searched the archives, and I’m still trying to make contact with the RSC and the Young Vic but so far, no joy. I hope I’ll be able to report back with the recording sometime in the future.

In the meantime, here is Darn that Dream – the song that far outlived the play. 

The post Swingin’ the Dream that Didn’t Come True appeared first on Cape Town Swing.

So – why is it important for dancers to understand swing music? Here are some answers, in brief – I hope they’ll inspire you to take a dive, too!

1. Dance as a Musical Conversation
Swing dancing evolved with swing music, creating a dynamic interplay. The rhythms, phrasing, and dynamics of the music directly influence the dance’s signature bounce, pulse, and energy. By understanding and engaging with the music, dancing becomes more than just movement; it becomes an expression of the music itself.

2. Dancing “in the Pocket”
Swing music offers a unique rhythmic landscape, often defined by the interplay of rhythm and melody. By recognising the swing feel—especially the triplet-based groove and syncopation—dancers can discover a natural, effortless flow, moving with the music’s heartbeat.

_{* “In the pocket” refers to when a band locks into a tight, effortless groove, creating a steady, swinging pulse. In swing music, this means the rhythm section plays with a relaxed yet driving feel, making the music irresistible for dancers. Count Basie’s band was famous for this deep, infectious swing.}

3. Musicality – Responding with Creativity
Dancing to swing music is an invitation to play and create beyond just executing steps and patterns. When dancers understand song structures (e.g., 32-bar AABA, or 12-bar blues), instrumental breaks, and common phrasing, they can anticipate changes, hit accents, and interact dynamically with their partner and the music. Exposure to a variety of swing music can expand a dancer’s creative horizons, encouraging growth and expressive freedom.

4. Appreciating the Roots of Swing
Knowing the major bandleaders, regional influences, and the evolution of swing styles (e.g., Count Basie’s laid-back groove vs. Benny Goodman’s driving rhythms) deepens a dancer’s appreciation of the culture they’re participating in. This understanding helps dancers adapt and appreciate the full spectrum of swing music. The history of swing isn’t just about nostalgia—it’s about understanding where the music came from, why it swings the way it does, and how it shaped the dance over time.

5. Expressing Diverse Swing Styles
Not all swing music swings the same way. Jump blues hits differently from New Orleans trad jazz; small-group swing feels different to a big-band arrangement. A dancer who recognises these differences can adjust their movement—whether it’s playful and loose for a Fats Waller tune or smooth and grounded for a Basie number.

6. Sharing Energy with Musicians
Live music is a core part of swing dance culture. A dancer who listens deeply can respond to a band’s energy, helping to create a dynamic exchange between dancers and musicians.

7. Contributing to the Community through DJing
Many dancers go on to DJ or influence event music selections. A strong foundation in swing music empowers dancers to build a community-wide appreciation of music that fosters great dancing and an authentic expression of swing dance culture.

Ultimately, understanding swing music transforms a dancer from someone who moves to the beat to someone who dances with the music. It’s what makes the dance feel alive, playful, and rooted in the jazz tradition.

Inspired to dig in? Join me in the workshop, or get in touch if you’d like to join community conversations about music!

The post How an Understanding of Swing Music Elevates our Dance Experience appeared first on Cape Town Swing.

At Cape Town Swing, our DJs are dedicated to keeping the spirit of swing alive, carefully curating sets that bring dancers together in rhythm and joy, while paying homage to the dance’s roots. But which tracks do they love the most? I asked them to share their personal favourites—the timeless classics and hidden gems that never fail to get feet moving and hearts soaring.

DJ Picks

Jazz Hawkins

Lavender Coffin – Lionel Hampton
“There is just something about the whooping and hollering at the beginning of the track and throughout. The energy between the band and vocalist is absolutely infectious, and it’s a favourite of mine to play at socials. It has a rather macabre and sardonic sense of humour that I love, too. The Lionel Hampton Orchestra became known around the world for its first-class jazz musicianship. As a composer and arranger, Hampton wrote more than 200 works.”

Jive at Five – Jo Jones
“I adore this song, no matter how many times I listen to it. I love the routine, the Trickeration that is done to it, and it brings me endless joy when it comes up in a social, and I make a run for the floor along with my friends who know the routine, too. The routine was choreographed as a way of recording solo jazz moves from the era and preserving them for future generations. I love being a part of that. This version is particularly powerful as it stars Jo Jones, the granddaddy of jazz drumming. A band leader and pioneer in jazz percussion, Jones anchored the Count Basie Orchestra rhythm section from 1934 to 1948.”

Money Blues – LaVern Baker
“LaVern is one of my favourite female vocalists. She was one of the most distinctive divas gracing the rock and roll era in the ’50s, but she has such a powerful voice that is so well suited to swing music. This lovely, sassy song is a joy to dance to and is all too relatable in this not-so-roaring era of the 2020s!”

Sarah M’Marete

On Revival Day – LaVern Baker
“I listened to a lot of spiritual and Southern gospel growing up. This song reminds me so much of the feeling of praise and worship with others in a church setting. Also, it’s just a great jam by an amazing vocalist—nothing like a good swinging rhythm-and-blues tune to get dancers on the floor.”

Leapin’ on Lenox – Johnny Griffin & Eddie ‘Lockjaw’ Davis
“From the moment the two saxophonists belt this tune—one later than the other in a staggered fashion—you’re hooked. This song straddles the line between big band, soul-jazz, and bebop, with Eddie’s saxophone keeping the song swinging all through its run time. A fun one to play with on the dance floor!”

Song of the Volga Boatmen – Glenn Miller Orchestra
“The ‘Song of the Volga Boatmen’ is a Russian folk tune I learned from my dad. When I first heard the Glenn Miller Orchestra’s rendition, I was hooked. The low, brass-heavy bass line and the driving rhythm of the drums build a reserved tension for almost two minutes before the band finally lets loose. So much fun to listen to again and again!”

Meritxell Cilliers

Wings and Things – Duke Ellington, Paul Gonsalves, Johnny Hodges
“It’s just 11 minutes of pure party. The live recording at Côte d’Azur, France, transports you to a swing party with some of the greatest swing musicians of the time.”

Beer Garden Blues Pt. 1 – Clarence Williams & His Washboard Band
“This song makes me want to Balboa until dawn breaks on a little street in New Orleans. It’s just so rhythmically interesting and good. The horns are dirty, the washboard rustic—I love it. And there’s a Part 2 as well! Good God, this one will resuscitate me at any party.”

Muriel Gravenor

Vine Street Rumble – Count Basie
“This song just swings! I also love how it starts out quite mellow, but then the energy builds, and you can’t help but swing the F out. This song was written to represent the Kansas City style of jazz: Vine Street was a hotspot for Black musicians in Kansas City, the city from which Basie’s band hailed. Basie, the legendary swing band leader, introduced a strong blues influence and a driving rhythm to the jazz of the swing era, creating a definitive sound that lindy hoppers loved.”

Mack the Knife – Ella Fitzgerald
“This one’s nostalgic; I’ve been hearing it since I started swing dancing. Ella is masterful in how she improvised lyrics on the spot in her famous Berlin performance of 1960, which won her a Grammy Award.”

Things Ain’t What They Used to Be – Duke Ellington
“I discovered this song during COVID times, and it really struck a chord as I was reminiscing on how times had changed. I later learned that this bittersweet song was written by Duke’s son during WWII as a commentary on turbulent change, with ongoing racial segregation and an evolving jazz scene.”

Sam Sserwanga

All of Me – Duke Ellington (feat. Johnny Hodges)
“Smooth and swinging. Showing how The Duke was a great composer/arranger, and how good the musicians in the big bands were. Duke Ellington paid his musicians rightly so.“

Segue In C – Duke Ellington & Count Basie
“The album is First Time! The Count Meets The Duke. Imagine two of the most influential big bands sharing the stage together. You can pick out everything from the bluesy Count melodies to the Duke’s arrangements and how the musicians in the big band play skillfully. Eight minutes of swingin’ bliss.“

Smooth Sailing – Ella Fitzgerald
“One of the most iconic vocals of the swing era. She sings like a trumpeter. Being mentored by Louis Armstrong, you can hear how she adopted the melodies of trumpeters. This whole song is just one big scat and not a note out of place. Being a musician myself, I can only hope to sing as such at my best singing.“

Mikhael Gerhard

Facts and Figures – Chick Webb and His Orchestra
I love Facts and Figures by Chick Webb because it’s a hard-swinging, fast-paced big band track that perfectly captures Webb’s driving, danceable style. The strong brass section, steady rhythm, and explosive drumming—likely led by Webb himself—keep the energy high while maintaining a solid groove. It swings hard, making it an excellent choice for Lindy Hop dancers who enjoy faster tempos and for Balboa dancers, thanks to its consistent rhythm and smooth flow. I also love the cool melodic call-and-response between the brass at the beginning, which adds excitement right from the start. Plus, at just 2:35, it’s the perfect length for a fast dance—keeping the energy up without exhausting the dancers.“

Take it and Git – Andy Kirk and His Clouds of Joy
“This song showcases Andy Kirk and His Clouds of Joy’s hotter side, even though the band was sometimes known for its sweeter style. The arrangement is more minimalist than many big band charts, letting the Kansas City-style rhythm section drive the groove and keep dancers locked into the swing. While still featuring brass, the song’s bluesy undertones and rhythm hint at the future sounds of rock and roll.

One of the highlights is the electric guitar solo in the second verse, likely played by Floyd Smith, a pioneer of the instrument. The third verse is another standout, featuring a cool call-and-response between the vocals and Mary Lou Williams’ complex, twinkling piano lines. It’s full of energy and playful phrasing, making it a blast for improvisational dancing.“

Holiday for Swing – Erskine Hawkins and His Orchestra
Holiday for Swing has a strong, propulsive groove that chugs hard, keeping the energy high for dancers who love to swing hard. Despite its driving rhythm, the core melody is smooth, sophisticated, and incredibly catchy, giving it a perfect balance between power and elegance.

The tight, polished musicianship shines through, with each section of the band contributing to the song’s high-energy feel. The punchy brass section delivers a rich, vibrant sound, while Erskine Hawkins’ soaring trumpet—a signature of his style—adds a thrilling lead voice.

The song radiates an optimistic, celebratory vibe, making the title “Holiday for Swing” feel especially fitting. Even without lyrics, it effortlessly conveys joy and excitement, making it a classic crowd-pleaser that never fails to lift the mood.“

Keep the Music Swinging!

Great swing music is at the heart of every unforgettable dance, and our DJs know just how to set the mood with timeless classics and high-energy tunes.

Listen to these songs, really listen, and embody the music, energy and soul the next time you dance. Feeling the music in your heart and body brings life to the dance floor. The more familiar you are with the songs, the more confidence and musicality you bring to your dance. It’s hard to beat the feeling of dissolving into the music in sync with your partner.

Enjoy exploring the music, and keep on swinging!

A big thank you to our fine DJs for their words and music

The post Swingin’ Selections: Our DJs’ Favorite Tracks appeared first on Cape Town Swing.