Let's Get Physical

After a few years of serious inaction, Kristian and I have become quite the active couple lately. Kristian plays squash three times a week and I've been enjoying intensive two hour dance classes at the Sydney Dance Company for the past two months.

It's interesting to see how things have changed since I last enjoyed these classes. It's been around five years. I used to dance with friends and then started with a small Japanese crew before becoming distracted with other pursuits - in particular, Kristian and my career.

The only studio I still remembered was the Sydney Dance Company so I started attending Sunday afternoon hip hop classes and then ventured into mid-week territory, incorporating funk too.

The atmosphere of a dance studio is truly something electric. I'm almost always nervous in anticipation... the smell of the studios, the creativity, the discipline, and the way dancers totally submit and release to the shameless blasting of music that shakes that area in your centre (where rumour says your soul sits). Mine certainly doesn't after a good class. The aftershocks can leave me giddy for days afterwards. It felt right to be back.

I know that mainstream hip hop and pop charts often intertwine (for instance, Justin Timberlake can be found here on the hip hop, pop and dance charts), but I've been recently shocked to discover how this has translated into the dance arena.

My first experience was during a funk class. Mid-week on a Wednesday night, the studio was nearly overflowing with funky young professionals in fitted, coordinated outfits with perfectly styled hair, girls with make-up on, designer bottles of water littering the black corners. Warm- ups were a challenging combination of sit ups, push ups, dance stretches and strengthening exercises, all in anticipation of the routine ahead. And despite men making up around a third of the class, we learnt choreography to the Pussy Cat Dolls song, "Beep". I was surprised that a teacher would stand the risk of alienating such a large percentage of her audience with an admittedly 'girly' routine, but thought it had been a while and was time to get with the times.

I also thought it would be my last funk class. As catchy as they are, the Dolls aren't for me.

Conflicting work and family adventures meant it was couple of weeks before I returned to a class and I couldn't contain my disappointment when after another gruelling 3o minute warm up, the 'hip hop' teacher warned the class that the routine was to the Pussy Cat Dolls song, "Buttons". WTF??

I tried to stay open-minded when he told us to 'release the sexual tension within', I tried to get into character when the choreography meant that the girls had to act like literal sexed-up cats with the boys gawking at the back of the room (but only did it once as it truly felt too demeaning), thanked the Lord I have short hair when the instructor asked for the girls to take their hair out as he thought it was sexier for the routine (none of the girls did it though), but my anger and frustration won when the WHOLE routine resembled something I learnt at Alicia's hen's night.

Don't get me wrong, I'm absolutely fine with learning that style of dancing if that's what I've paid for and I understand that the sexualisation of women in hip hop film clips may justify this sexed-up style being taught, but am still pissed off.

The teacher spent a lot of time talking about himself (even asking the class about his hair before discussing his recent drunken cut) and was blind to the fact that his class was clearly uncomfortable, which made the room feel awkward, which made the teacher talk even more. There were a lot of young girls, six boys who learnt about two bars of eight and stood at the back of the room for the majority of the class and when we were asked to team up with the opposite sex, no one was willing, even after a lengthy pep-talk. It just didn't work.

I left the class right on the time it ended, despite moves still being taught, apologising to my partner (yes, I felt sorry for the dejected guys at the back and helped to team three of them up). We both agreed this wasn't hip hop and shook hands. On my way out, I heard another guy from the class complaining to a friend about how shitty it was.

I drove home full of rage, particularly at the sexualisation of girls and women. I was angry that young women were being taught to 'sex it up' in a local dance class by a self-engrossed and immature boy. I understand that some think the Pussy Cat Dolls encourage empowerment in young girls, but I don't agree when their lyrics talk of stealing your sista's boyfriend and their style encourages young women to look like cloned strippers who use sex and stimpy outfits to gain power - why not use your intellect, sense of humour, character and personal style? This is not girl power, even if it does sell records.

Anyway, my livid state fuelled me to search for an alternative, so if anyone is looking for an authentic, humble and grassroots hip hop class to attend in Sydney, I'd recommend you skip the Sydney Dance Company (unless you go to Sunday afternoons hip hop, which isn't soooo bad) and go to Dancekool. Their classes are central, cheap and everyone there is friendly and unpretenious when they almost have every right to be because their moves absolutely kick ass.