Spotlight turns to dancing

BY MICHELLE DUFF

When a stocky, shiny-domed Rodney Hide swung his sultry partner around the floor on Dancing with the Stars, he could never have known what it would do for the sport of ballroom dancing.

Not that Rodney Hide was cool or anything. In fact, quite the opposite. Across the country, men and women watched from their armchairs and thought: If he can do it, surely it's not that hard.

That's what Shirley Wall thought, anyway.

The former New Zealand professional ballroom dancing champion, and long-time dance teacher, has seen a massive increase in popularity of her classes since Dancing with the Stars hit national screens.

"It has showed that it's OK to be a rugby star and dance, it's OK to be a councillor and dance. A lot of those people are total beginners; some of them are quite awkward, but they can dance.

"It's broken down a lot of barriers, and the social side of dancing has increased and that's great."

In fact, she likens the effect of the television series to what racy Australian movie Strictly Ballroom did for ballroom dancing in the 1990s – took it out of the local RSA and into the limelight.

Kiwis have embraced the style – and none more so than the 70 couples from across New Zealand who will take the floor next weekend at the Dancesport Spectacular competition in Palmerston North.

Though the term "ballroom" is used to refer to traditional social dancing, at competition level there is a focus on the most popular steps.

For nine hours, dancers will twirl and dip through the main ballroom dances – the waltz, foxtrot, quickstep, tango and Viennese waltz – and the raunchier Latin American steps, including the rumba, samba, cha-cha, jive and paso doble.

Upstairs at the Regent on Broadway on Monday night, the Shirley Wall School of Dance advanced Latin American class hold their heads high, arms extended elegantly as they run through a complicated dance sequence.

Oddly, they manage to look graceful even as many of them sport the rather strange combination of sweatpants, socks and high heels, typical of a practice night.

"Turn, turn, and spin, change hands," Wall cries, as dancers whirl around her.

After reigning over the New Zealand ballroom dance scene in the late 1980s, Wall and her then partner started up a dance school to fund their travel to international competitions.

Fast-forward to 2010, and Wall now teaches more than 200 students ballroom dancing – from absolute beginners right through to the best.

"People come for two reasons – they want to learn to dance, but they're at leisure so they want to have fun. I teach with those two things in mind," she says.

She passes on knowledge on everything from nailing a difficult move to applying spray tans and dealing with unexpected wardrobe malfunctions.

Competitive student Brendan Marshall, 26, groans at the reminder of his major costume defect that occurred in the middle of last year's national competition.

Partner Aimee Whitfield, 17, had spun in towards him and he tried to push her away, only to find she was stuck to him – by her dress.

The mesh had hooked around a loose button on his plunging, lacy top, and the partners spent precious moments attempting to untangle the snarl.

Marshall is hoping their dances will go more smoothly next weekend, with the pair putting in plenty of extra hours in the lead-up to the big event.

His favourite dance is the cha-cha, he says.

"It's pretty up-tempo; they call it the cheeky cha-cha. You can have a lot of fun, and shake your booty."

But the slower, more dramatic tango is good too, he admits.

"It's the other end of the spectrum. There's kind of an elegance and a strength in it that I find really awesome."

When he first started dancing, he found it "weird" being so close to a stranger, and having to lock eyes while dancing.

After a while, though, he adapted to the forced intimacy.

"You spend a lot of time with the person and in their body space. By nature, that's an uncomfortable thing to do. It doesn't bother me ... you get used to it, but you forget that beginners are like `oh you're in my space, buddy, back off!"'

Even after four years of dancing, Marshall still feels "bizarre" donning the fake tan, spangly costume and 3.8cm heels for competitions.

But on dance day, surrounded by a crowd of hundreds, it's all worthwhile.

"You get to go out there and feel a bit special, and be a bit excited."It's $16 for a day pass to Dancesport Spectacular, held at the Arena Manawatu ballroom, from 1pm until about 9pm, on Saturday, September 11.

The bartenders

If you notice some hip-swinging behind the bar next time you're at The Cobb, it could well be Nickie Smith, 23, and Stacey Maree Mulholland, 20, practising their moves.

The friends have always been keen on Latin American rhythms, and signed up for classes after seeing an advertisement in the Manawatu Standard.

They've been dancing for six weeks, and Smith is now biding her time until she can drag her fiance to class.

She is due to be married next year, and wants her partner to get some practice for their romantic first dance.

"He has no rhythm whatsoever, I'm going to rope him into ballroom classes closer to the time."

It's also easy fitness, and much more dynamic than the gym, she says.

Mulholland, who has Cuban ancestry, wants to travel to South America – particularly Rio de Janeiro, for the famed Carnaval – and will now be able to shake her booty to the Brazilian samba.

"It's so much fun, I'm always gutted when the hour is up."

The hospital orderly

Julian Kissock is the first to admit it's a strange irony that the daughter who forced him to give up ballroom dancing also cajoled him back into it.

A couple of decades ago, Kissock, now 49, was spinning up a storm on the dance floor.

But the birth of his little girl, Eloise, meant nappies and storytime took priority, and he gave up his night-time hobby.

That was until this year, when 18-year-old Eloise – herself now a ballroom dancer – pleaded with her dad to give it another go.

Since Kissock works lateshifts at Palmerston North Hospital, the only class he could attend was Latin-based. And his first response?

"You've got to be kidding, not with my rhythm."

Though the first class was nerve-racking, and Kissock jokes he needed "novacaine in my hips to get them moving", he's now in love with the smouldering dances.

"It's good exercise, good rhythm, good music, usually you get good company. From my point of view Latin American is more how people dance today, rather than ballroom.

Even if your partner doesn't know Latin American, you can still have the moves there."

- © Fairfax NZ News