Back in my old stomping grounds of Sacramento, the swing venue of choice is called Midtown Stomp. It’s a weekly event that has changed locations more than once in it’s lifetime, but has continued to expand and influence not only the local swing scene, but the entire city. Recently, the Sacramento Bee had a wonderful article about Midtown Stomp, and I’d like to share with you what they had to say. My congratulations go out to Midtown Stomp for all of their successes, and the amazing difference they have been able to make in Sacramento. My thanks go out to Anna Ritner for writing this article.
“Sometimes, when the mood strikes, you just gotta dance. Yet I often hear people complain, however lazily, that there’s nowhere good to exorcise dancing demons in Sacramento.
The Park is too processed, they say, Press Club loses its sheen at the exact moment your ex decides to start hanging out there, and the music at Badlands is so canned, you risk hearing ‘All the Single Ladies’ playing on a continuous loop in your brain for a week to follow your excursion.
For those who desperately want to rock, may I offer a solution. The venue is romantic, the music has withstood the test of time, and the crowd oozes rhythm and style to the extent that – get this – it doesn’t even need a bar to get down.
Midtown Stomp is the name of the organization that’s keeping swing dancers swinging in Sacramento, and it offers beginner-level East Coast swing classes – often to the tunes of a live band – for singles, couples and anyone who’s ever dreamed of teleporting to the Cotton Club circa 1930 for a Sazerac and some healthy, arm-flailing jive.
Every Friday night, while you’re sitting at a nightclub and gazing longingly at an empty dance floor, the Stompers are stoking the embers of tradition as they steam up midtown’s Eastern Star Ballroom with the Lindy Hop, Charleston, Balboa and a handful of other old-time dances that look even sweeter than they sound.
Showing up for my first swing-dance lesson was a little like visiting the high school prom experience of several decades past, minus a corsage. And a date. The lobby of the grandiose Eastern Star Temple, with its decadent spiraling staircases and ancient smells, instantly transported me to the 1920s, the era in which the K Street building was constructed. While waiting in line to register, a gaggle of teen girls, outfitted in T-strap shoes and loose skirts, chatted with another newcomer.
‘We never miss a week,’ they beamed, their limbs already bouncing in swing time rhythm.
I ascended the spiral staircase leading to the temple’s gorgeous and expansive ballroom. Teens, adults, couples and singles were scattered across the floor. They were practicing moves from last week’s lesson and warming up for a night of hopping, twirling and rock-stepping – the latter a back-and-forth weight-shifting movement that is the keystone of the swing dancing experience.
Within minutes, the crowd blossomed from about a dozen people to more than 100, and the group’s composition was so diverse in age, height, ethnicity and appearance, it rivaled the human smorgasbord found at any DMV.
And here’s the very best part of the class: Because you constantly change partners, you get to meet almost every single person (at least those of the opposite sex) in attendance.
I saw meticulously slicked-back hairstyles, bald heads, plenty of fedoras, sneakers and high heels, the only common denominator being that crowd had an air of old-fashioned manners. The men were wearing cologne; the women were lipsticked and standing up straight. And the phenomenon of existing in a little-known midtown hideaway under the chandeliered ceiling of an all-original ballroom, listening to ‘Stormy Weather’ echo out over the wood floor, was sublime – in the most dreamy, vintage sort of way.
Perhaps I channeled the spirits of bygone Sacramentans, who, in the midst of swing fever, attended dance parties in the very same location.
Like the most adept and sanguine Disneyland tour guides, our cheerful instructors quickly had us grouped in pairs, with our right hands clasped and our left arms gently placed on the appropriate body parts of our partners.
After a minute with one partner, the ladies rotate counter-clockwise, creating a social phenomenon that’s kind of like speed-friendship-dating set to music. Some of my partners were beginners and struggled with the movements. Some of them had sweaty palms. And some of them had me twirling around in ways that were far beyond my skill set within 10 seconds of making their acquaintance.
Swing dancing saw its rise during Prohibition, and the dance’s frisky style and unbridled energy explains why its enthusiasts don’t need booze to boogie. In fact, for beginners, impairing coordination before the lesson would probably be a very bad idea.
In an era when bumping and grinding and solo dancing in noisy, shadowy nightclubs is considered apropos to many, the Midtown Stomp experience is refreshing and completely unfamiliar. The rules of the dance are older than you are, so you must face your partner directly, an arrangement that has a funny way of inducing smiles and laughter, even among strangers.
And the music, of course, is the most delightful reason to learn. Set at a comfortable volume, it allows something you can’t find on any average dance floor these days: that good, old-fashioned intimacy called real conversation.”
