Mormons Got Dance

We went to last night’s presentation by the Brigham Young University Ballroom Dance Company and let me tell you…I don’t know if they can jump, but those white kids can flat-out dance!

Proceeds from the hour-and-a-quarter program at the Lee High School auditorium benefitted Safe Place and Harmony Home, both of which serve families trying to escape abusive situations. They are fitting recipients for LDS beneficence; whatever you might think of that organization’s religious doctrine, its commitment to the preservation of traditional family values is admirably strong.

BYU’s Ballroom Dance Company represents the cream of the crop in worldwide amateur circles. They have won just about every national and international dance competition you can name, and have done so for literally decades. It’s all the more amazing when you consider that of the 35 performers — all of them full-time students — listed in last night’s program, only four were dance majors.

I’m far from expert but I do have more than a passing interest in ballroom dance, and from my perspective, last night’s performance was scarily flawless. Some of the moves were simply breathtaking in athleticism and grace. The choreography was imaginative, as were the costumes and music (although the latter tended at times to overpower the school’s sound system). Case in point: the number entitled “Baliwood” was performed under UV lights (aka “black lights”) with the dancers wearing head-to-toe costumes in eye-popping fluorescent colors. In one scene, two dancers wore black tops and two others wore black tights (I initially typed “bottoms” but that didn’t seem to sit right. Ha!), giving the effect of torsos and legs moving about independently, seeking to re-unite.

The dance routines were offered non-stop, and covered the gamut of traditional ballroom: fotxtrot, waltz, tango, rumba, swing, cha cha, etc.

Granted, none of their steps resembled what I and MLB are learning — which would have been somewhat demoralizing to beginners like us, if it hadn’t been so downright entertaining.

I feel compelled to finish with what I started in the first paragraph.

While their precision was such that the term “Stepford Dancers” comes to mind, this allusion is reinforced by the sheer physical uniformity of the troupe. The guys were clean-cut, the girls were — what’s the female equivalent of “clean-cut”? Their audience generally reflected the west Texas demographic (almost equal parts anglo and latino), but the troupe was completely anglo, with one exception, a fellow hailing from Lima, Peru. I’m not offering this observation with any sort of judgment; it just struck me as interesting. I suspect the dance troupe’s demo is an accurate microcosm of the university’s student body as a whole.

One final observation. The performance proved that dancers don’t have to be suggestive or crude to be sensuous. There was no crotch-grabbing ala Michael Jackson or “dirty dancing” ala just about every hip-hop “artist” in existence, but there was passion and fire, romance and exhilaration. And if you think ballroom is for sissies, you need to catch a future performance and you’ll re-think your perspective.