Indianapolis, IN
Lisa and I turned North and headed into Indiana, the Crossroads of America. We were surprised to find that the central part of the state danced almost exclusively on Tuesdays and Wednesdays rather than on the weekend. Excited to attended these weekday contras, Lisa and I made our way to Indianapolis.
The dance started at 8 and was to run only 2 hours, so we didn’t want to be late. As we approached the city, however, the clock read 7:55. “Are we going to make it?” Lisa asked. I wasn’t sure, and sped along the highway, looking for our exit.
Miraculously, the hall, a space called the Athenaeum, happened to be very close to the highway. We pulled into a parking space on the street just a block away at 7:59 and walked confidently back to the building.
However, the woman at the desk on the first floor had never heard of contra dance. “We don’t know about what’s going on in the rest of the building,” she said. “We just work for the YMCA.” The Athenaeum housed the YMCA, a cabaret theatre, and several other activities in addition to the dance. Wandering the halls among intricately carved wooden stairways and old photos on the walls, we eventually found a handwritten sign that said “contra dance” with an arrow down the hall. Back on track, we found the hall just as the caller was walking through the first dance.
The hall was very beautiful, with a shiny wooden floor, smooth white walls, and large windows with wooden frames overlooking the city streets below. Opposite the entrance was a curved space built into the far wall about 3 feet deep and 8 feet high. A detailed archway separated it from the rest of the room, and it was a perfect place to watch the dancers and take pictures. Several lights hung from the ceiling, simple but pretty, brightly illuminating the room.
Lisa and I found partners, and were immediately impressed by the age diversity in the room. There were only enough dancers for one set, but that set was made up of college students and middle aged people alike. My partner was college aged, and told me that many of the dancers there came from nearby Earlham College. “I usually dance the guys part,” she told me. “I haven’t done this much.” She explained that she had heard about contra dancing in school, and decided to go one week. Finding she liked it, coming to dance became a fairly regular thing for her. Lisa danced with an experienced dancer, who tried to do fancy moves with each neighbor in line.
The caller chose a varied program. Just about all of the dances I participated in, which included the Baby Rose, were fairly simple. However, a dance in which I sat out to observe, she called a dance with a hey followed immediately by another complicated move involving a grand right and left around the whole set. Some problems arose with this dance, and she had to stop it in the middle. I watched a couple out at the bottom frustrated that they couldn’t get back in the set, while others found themselves turned around at critical moments during the hey. The caller suggested that more dancers come early to the beginners’ session next week to better understand some of the figures, then started a new dance.
The band played from the floor, and included one man who walked around the room as he played his guitar. The music was solid, and they played good tunes. Late in the evening, I remember an exciting rendition of one of my favorites: The Growling Old Man and the Cackling Old Woman.
During the break, a young girl, probably college aged, went up to do the announcements. The caller introduced her as the treasurer of Indianapolis Traditional Music and Dance Group. Thinking of the struggling dance we attended a few days before in Kansas, I was impressed that someone so young was involved in dance organizing. I talked to her later, and she told me she was just glad to be a part of the dance.
-Bloomington, IN
