12. Foxtrot

Where foxtrot meets ice, the primary takeaway should be less on specific steps or even hold or frame, and more on a general rhythmic quality; the dance is marked by its slow-slow-quick-quick pattern, creating a sense of rise and fall that, when done well, can be reflected in a program.

What's particularly of note where the foxtrot is concerned is its two strands of history. While today it's classified as a standard ballroom dance, it originated as a product of the popular successes of vaudeville -- attributed in its barest form to namesake showman Harry Fox -- and performance ballroom exemplified by Vernon and Irene Castle, trendsetters of the gradually emerging Jazz Age (seen here performing their own namesake Castle Walk). The dance that began as an emblem of the ragtime era would, however, with the passage of a little time and a migration overseas, become refined in that ballroom-crazed period of 1930s Britain that also saw the development of the foundational compulsory ice dances -- including, but naturally, the foxtrot, demonstrated here. This new "slow foxtrot" essentially supplanted the jazzier social style from which it originated, rendering the dance somewhat more staid in perception than is necessarily true to its essential spirit and fairly adaptable rhythm.

To establish some footing in what's currently understood by a social but still fairly formalized approach to foxtrot, this tutorial provides a quick and clear visual breakdown of the basics:


Confusing matters slightly, slow foxtrot may be synonymous with foxtrot overall -- as separate from quickstep, originally a variant of the dance -- or may refer to a specific subgenre of foxtrot. The ISU, for its part, has distinguished between the two, and while a quicker-paced foxtrot ruled the day this season and in others (as demonstrated in 2001 by Marina Anissina & Gwendal Peizerat) most original dances from the 2004-05 season utilized the slow rhythm, including -- and pay attention -- this one from then-juniors (and national seniors) Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir, a particularly solid demonstration of hold-heavy foxtrot.

And from the history page linked above, let's also take a moment to note the described "theatricality" of an American take on the form -- and that the couples covered in the previous entry here all utilized a foxtrot rhythm in their season SDs.

And while most teams this past season did incorporate the foxtrot, as suggested by those theatrical examples and many others, fewer programs focused in on a more traditional ballroom-oriented interpretation. This dance from Maia & Alex Shibutani is, however, one of the clearer, playing to the team's strengths:


The slow-slow-quick-quick pattern is discernible here, especially at the top of each foxtrot segment; the choreography from 0:34-0:38 is a little like a promenade. The sense of lilt is apparent in their second foxtrot section particularly, with a notion of rise and fall, if less of sway.

But least common of all was reference to foxtrot's initial roots, and to explore those, let's first set the stage with a look at the real thing in the 1920s and 1930s. The comparison is instructive; while the 1920s clip retains a jazzy sensibility, that of the 1930s suggests a smoother, more standard ballroom interpretation:



A few teams elected to call back to that early-mid-century feel, though in varying degrees of faithfulness to actual dance movement. The Charleston-inspired short dance from Danielle O'Brien and Gregory Merriman nicely utilizes its middle foxtrot rhythm (beginning at 1:55) in terms of bounce and sway, though the openness of hold outside of the midline step sequence distances it from its floor forebear:


And after their youthful take on the ballroom-based slow foxtrot, Virtue and Moir elected to travel the jazz club route with this Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong program, which wraps its quickstep middle with two foxtrot sections:


Again, the concern is more general feeling than specific translation, but the in-hold moments present something like a heightened conception of the real thing, performance more than a direct presentation, particularly with several early sequences, and the bulk of the "Cheek to Cheek" section, marked by rise and fall but also a quite nonstandard degree of flash. But compare also the interplay of the no-touch midline step sequence to the responsive steps of the traditional dance, with the step-back/step-forward slow-quick rhythm suggested a bit by the patterns and rhythms carved out as one partner seems to move more in reaction to the other than out of any simple choreographic scheme. The attitude of reaction and response is what grounds the rise and fall here.

Among the spectrum of fundamental dance styles, foxtrot poses more difficulty than most in its move to the ice -- its composition so rooted in actions so incompatible with both the physics of skating and the requirements of competition that isolated elements and rhythms must take precedence here. But that flexibility of tempo and rhythm also makes its application as a secondary rhythm -- an addition to a quickstep or waltz or other standard ballroom form -- certainly points to its overwhelming popularity of use. The result, though, is a style that can lose its identity in ice dance form; those references, then, to its primary roots are all the more unique.

11. Theatrical Dance

The Finnstep, paired with this season's accompanying rhythms, lends itself to a nice range of interpretive approaches, from standard ballroom to social swing or Charleston. Its tempo requirements, as well as the perceived character of the dance, also tend towards more traditional or standard musical selections -- and, in a few cases, selections from the great American theatrical songbook.

This installment will now take a slightly different tack from others, focusing here less on technique than a rather more general category of dance to which the Finnstep and foxtrot rhythms have led a handful of teams -- call it show, or theatrical ballroom. Performance-oriented, a little old-fashioned, and very American -- even if executed here by two Canadian couples and one Italian duo.

There might be no better point of reference for the style considered here than the enduring efforts of Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, whose frequent on-screen partnership throughout the 1930s in particular essentially defined the classic dance film, courtesy of numbers like "Pick Yourself Up" from Swing Time:


While their film career brought their styles of popular performance dance and theatrically-inflected ballroom -- along with the debut or popularizing of several classic songs from composers like Berlin, Porter, and Gershwin -- to a far wider audience than stage alone ever could, they were also able to use film to their own advantage. While, of course, the closeness of camera and size of screen help foster both an intimacy and grandeur less easily accessed in live performance, Astaire took pains to instill one key component of live performance to the realm of filmed dance: the single-shot dance sequence, with cameras capturing one performance in full, cut-free and focused as far as possible on capturing the whole movement of bodies. This certainly, in its way, draws a bit of a link between Astaire & Rogers and the efforts of our ice dancers, though, sadly, most event cameras have failed to adhere to their own clean, seamless, dancers-in-full-view half of the bargain.

And in a more fortuitously direct segue to the short dance topic at hand, Rogers was actually introduced to a wide audience via the lead role in George & Ira Gershwin's 1930 debut of Girl Crazy, a production on which Astaire assisted in choreographic instruction. The show, of course, was later revised and revived in 1992 as Crazy for You, from which the music for Alexandra Paul & Mitch Islam's short dance was drawn.


It should be noted that while their program takes from a theatrical score, it does not draw from musical's book, and this 1992 Kennedy Center Honors performance of "I Got Rhythm" also points up the distinction between approaches -- the rousing and rustic group number and the typically elegant duet. But if the couple's interpretation does not derive from its strict source material, the extroversion of its expression and the outward-orientation of movement do point to its tackling a more theatrical than ballroom angle -- and an alternate category of source material might be considered. Take a look again at moments 0:54-1:03 and 2:19-2:30 in the short dance above and then take a gander at 1:00-1:15 in this particular number of legend:


Too, the choreographic aesthetic of Roberta's "Smoke Gets In Your Eyes" is a little like the midline writ large, while 1:28 offers a passing resemblance to the short dance's opening sequence, 1:35 to end pose, and other moments throughout simply suggesting a spiritual kinship.

Film and theatre have an interesting marriage where the short dance source material for two of the world's top ten teams is concerned. 42nd Street, the centerpiece of programs for both Kaitlyn Weaver & Andrew Poje and Anna Cappellini & Luca Lanotte, made its mark as a major theatrical musical in 1980, but drew as its inspiration the 1933 musical film of the same name (which, it may as well be noted, included among its cast Ginger Rogers). As befitting a Depression-era performance dance piece, tap plays a central stylistic role in both productions, though staging is a rather different story. Take this performance of the title number, featuring the cast of its 2001 revival:


Though a group number, its sensibility can be compared readily enough to Weaver & Poje's program, for which the team worked closely with actor and choreographer Geoffrey Tyler. Their take, while more both more abstract and condensed than a musical's number, interprets a storyline loosely based on the musical's themes and works in a few clever moments of tap-inspired ice work at 1:00 and variously from 2:10-2:25:


(As a further note, consider also lead Kate Levering's dress from the 2001 performance above and the number worn by Weaver in the team's first outing at the U.S. International Skating Classic.)

While the two are excellent actors, Cappellini & Lanotte's program, for its part, relies in movement terms more on a standard ice dance vernacular than a clear intent to play off of the theatrical vocabulary. Beginning at 2:45, however, there are a few key moments that tip the hat in their own way to tap:


Cappellini & Lanotte do draw things somewhat full circle with their choice in costumes, which evoke less a show-biz number and more the street scene that comprises the original film's take on "42nd Street" -- along with a gritty pre-Hays Code streak most definitely not apparent in either ice dance program:


Of course, any ice dance program is in its own way a small, often-filmed performance number, albeit one bound to requirements of motion and scored by panels of technical specialists and judges. But the program making overt reference to its own performance nature creates its own category and particular challenges for any team taking it on. An introverted couple can find success by making connection its own projected element; natural showmen can carry off moves that could otherwise seem gimmicky in translation. And in the case of a short dance with its strictly-prescribed necessities, such an approach can offer an alternative, almost self-reflective take on mandatory movement -- a miniature movie in the midst of competition.