All the Way Around

Before heading West, we decided to take in one last North Carolina dance. We drove East from Tennessee, and found ourselves next to the white water rafting site for the ‘96 Olympics. Our destination was the John C. Campbell Folk School, and we didn’t want to be late; the dance would last for only one hour. We asked directions at a gas station to see if we had gotten turned around.

“Do you know how to get to the Folk School?” I asked the cashier as I paid for a rushed, improvised meal: two bags of Combos, a PayDay, and a Whatchamacallit. But I realized as soon as I said it that she might not even know what I was talking about.

The Folk School was more famous than I thought. Not only did she know exactly what the school was and how to get there, so did everyone else in earshot, and they all had their own version of the best way to get there.
We arrived in plenty of time and stepped inside to find the band tuning up. I had been told that sometimes the Tuesday night contra sessions at the Folk School are done to recorded music, and seeing the band was a welcome surprise.

The building was called the Keith House. Downstairs was a beautiful dance hall with a dark wooden floor, a fireplace, and a high stage with a piano. Upstairs were dorms for the school’s work-study students: people who work for the school for two weeks in exchange for tuition for a week-long class. Most of the students who attend classes at the folk school are retired, and the work-study program program has been instrumental in bringing younger people to the school.

The caller and organizer, Bob Dalsemer, came over to us and introduced himself. When we told him about our trip, he explained the purpose of these short, weekly dances. “We get new students here each week,” he said, “and most of the time, they only stay for a week. This contra dance is to give each of them a chance to see what contra dance is like.” He went on to explain that the dance is only an hour long so that the students aren’t overwhelmed and they can leave feeling that they succeeded in learning a new dance form.

When it came time to dance, the room was filled with well over 60 people. Bob started with a circle mixer that had all of the basic moves: alamandes, do-si-dos, swings, and promenades. Next, he called a circle contra, in which couple faced couple around a large ring. That dance featured more complicated moves, such as right and left throughs and balances. Then, we were ready for a real contra dance. This was a great way to introduce beginners to contra from what I could see. Most everyone understood the basic moves, and by the time we were dancing improper dances, each person in the room looked confident.

The attendees were not restricted to students. About half the people in the room were from the surrounding community. What Bob started as a weekly one-hour contra lesson had turned into an event everyone was interested in joining. These more experienced dancers provided skill and teaching that mixed with the beginners’ energy and excitement, making for a wonderfully dynamic dance.

I danced a contra with a young girl who had started coming to these weekly dances a few months before. She pointed down the line to a guy in a grey shirt. “That’s my father,” she said. “I brought him here for his first contra dance tonight.”

After we had gotten through some contra dances, Bob told everyone to form squares. He walked the first one through, then sat down and played the accordion as he called. The squares were not easy, but the dancers understood them, even the ones who had never been contra dancing before. My square was a great group, made up mostly of work study students and other people who worked for the school. Some I had seen in Asheville the week before. One guy added twirls to every right-and-left grand, and the woman on my left helped explain the moves Bob called. Most of them were from other states, but had begun dancing in North Carolina.

Rather than end with a waltz, the evening ended with the last contra. Bob Dalsemer explained that he wanted each part of the dance to be accessible to everyone. The dance left almost everyone wanting more, which was just the way it seemed Bob wanted it: a completely positive experience that would bring them back next week, or have them searching for a dance in their own communities.

The next day, Sue, who had told me about the dance in Asheville, took Lisa and I on a tour of the school. Both of us fell in love with the place as we looked in on classes and the students, many of whom had danced with us the previous night. My square dance corner showed us her latest chair caning project; a neighbor gent explained the finer points of wood vs oil fired pots as he showed us a drying clay birdhouse he sculpted. Other students carved wood, or stoked a red hot forge in the blacksmithing shop. Both of us picked up catalogs, and mused about working two weeks, then learning a folk art during a third week–it sounded like a great stay in North Carolina, as long as we got to dance each Tuesday.

-Brasstown, NC

This entry was posted on Wednesday, March 14th, 2007 at 11:14 am and is filed under 10 North Carolina II. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.