To Dance or Not to Dance: A Conversation with John Harris

Kelsa: Hey, John! I’ve been wondering…Why don’t we present more Cityfolk shows at venues that have a dance floor? I’ve worked 5 shows so far this season, and I’ve struggled to contain my composure during every single one of them. If I could have let loose in the way the music was compelling me to, I would have been clogging down the isles at Victoria Theatre during An Irish Homecoming, John Jorgenson would have had me jumpin’ and jivin’ on the tables at Canal Street Tavern, I would have grabbed a partner and swayed romantically to Brazil Guitar Duo’s traditional songs, and I probably would have jumped on stage during one of Winard Harper’s drum solos at the Frank Wess show. I must admit, I did find a corner in the back of Victoria Theater last November, where I could follow all of Soweto Gospel Choir’s sweet moves, but I stopped myself from imitating those crazy high kicks only because I was afraid I might catch the ear of someone sitting in the back aisle on my way down.

So what’s up, John? I can’t be the only one who experiences the music in such a physical way? Don’t you ever want to let loose during these incredible musical performances? Perhaps I should pose my question another way…Picture yourself back at the Jorgenson show. There is a V.I.P room at Canal Street and YOU are in it. You can see and hear the band as if you’re in the same room, but NO ONE CAN SEE YOU! What do you do? I’m so curious!

John: Well, Kelsa, it’s funny you should ask! To tell you the truth, I’ve been worried a few times. In the three years I’ve known you, I don’t think I’ve seen you still for more than a few minutes at a time, and there have been a couple of times I was afraid you were going to fly out of your chair and hurt somebody! I understand it’s in your blood, but I always wondered, too – why is it that some people have to dance and some people feel it inside? For me, there are probably a few reasons. For one thing, I had the misfortune to come of age during the 70s – not exactly the golden age of dance music. The 40s had the jitterbug, the 50s got the twist, the 60s had all kinds of cool dances, and what did we get? The Bump! You gotta admit, enough teenage dances doing the Bump is enough to keep even the most soulful among us off the dance floor! (And don’t give me that line about the great Chicago dance movements of the 70s. I’m from Lexington, Kentucky – not exactly the most cutting edge place on the planet).

But my youthful emotional scars aside, I’ve just always internalized music. There’s something I love about sitting completely still and getting lost in the music. And maybe it has something to do with how I was introduced to music. When I was a kid I listened to Brahms and Beethoven, Bob Dylan, Miles Davis, Flatt & Scruggs, Led Zeppelin (and some others I refuse to even admit). Hmmm, see anything in common there? Not exactly Tango material!

But, hey, I’m not made of stone either! I have to admit I can be caught flying around my living room from time to time. Just ask Natalie. She has a few smashed toes to prove it! So, to answer your question: if I was all alone in the VIP room, you might find me sliding across the floor once or twice. But more often than not, you’d find me moving ever so slightly. But what’s dancin’ is my brain!

And my question to you is this: What if James Brown is playing live? He’s 10 feet from you and you’re tied to your chair. Think you’d survive?

Kelsa: Absolutely not. I would go berserk! Or else, I’d find a way to dance on my hands with my butt waving in the air.

Do you really find this odd? Perhaps I do have some sort of personality disorder. But I prefer to believe that our true human nature is to respond to music and rhythm through our bodies. I think those who experience the music in their minds alone, are actually being stifled by their brains due to internalized insecurities, socialization, and cultural cues that say, “DON’T DANCE!” If people could remove all of these mental barriers and constraints, I think we’d find that most people would explode into whole body action at a James Brown concert. Of course, I agree that the style of music does make a difference. I’d rather lay back in a Lazy Boy while listening to Enya. And given that you grew up in Lexington, KY, I can understand how you missed out on the funky chicken, and Campbell locking in the 70’s. Poor you! But even if we presented James Brown at the Victoria Theater to a bunch of 40-something’s who grew up in Lexington, KY, I think everyone there would find some way to dance in the aisles…that is, if we could remove the fear of dancing from their psyches.

I must admit, though, I do completely relate to your experience of always having had the same response to music. I can remember dancing around my living room from as early as 3 years old to anything my parents played on the radio or their record player (yes, I’m old enough to have had a record player in the house), and yes that includes Prince, but also the likes of Beethoven and Bob Dylan, and I danced to it all! So, when it comes to the age old nature vs. nurture question, perhaps it is a “nature-thang” after all. I suppose we all just have a different nature. And that is certainly all right with me…as long as Cityfolk humors us dancers with at least one or two opportunities to get down to some great live music every year. And I promise I won’t tease you anymore about the closed-eyed, grinning, head-bob thing you get goin’ on when you’re internalizing the music.

Man, I’m glad we finally got this all out in the open. I feel much better about our differences now!

John: Well, I guess it just goes to show that the magnificent thing about music is that it speaks to each of us in our own way. Maybe I’m stifled by internalized insecurities, but at least I can revel in the music while I’m at it! And I imagine there are as many ways people feel the music as there are people on the planet. So maybe we should just ask our readers.

How do YOU experience the music?
Join the conversation by sharing your comments with us!