8. R(h)umba

It stands to reason that any dance style characterized in part by sustained eye contact and sexual tension would, naturally, be embodied in compulsory dance form by a pattern skated almost exclusively in killian hold.

Rumba hit the ice in 1938, in the process acquiring an "H" in its name that binds it quite closely to its time and context. Name notwithstanding, this r(h)umba shouldn't be confused with the later-established International and American ballroom forms, and the pattern might, in its own way, be the purest legacy existing of the style's first introduction to American and European society. This first wave came not through exposure to the actual Afro-Cuban dance (which is a very different entity), but popular new Cuban music -- and, at that, in possible error, with hit song's "El Manisero (The Peanut Vendor)" identified to its American audiences as a rumba rather than a son. The dance that subsequently emerged may have been characterized by a certain style of music and movement, but what it was not bound by was tempo. The possibility for an upbeat rumba, while anathema to its subsequent ballroom development, was actually preserved in its compulsory dance counterpart, with its 176 bpm tempo requirement a rather startling contrast to International rumba's range of around 96-112 or even the faster-paced American's of 120-144.

So what was created by Walter Gregory in London lived on through a standard compulsory pattern, demonstrated here by Marie-France Dubreuil and Patrice Lauzon:


Despite the couple's chemistry, the dance by its general nature is peppy and fairly devoid of the lusty tensions and conflicts by which both ballroom and Afro-Cuban form of the dance are characterized, to say nothing of its choreographic questionability. It has little to do with the dance outlined here, and certainly juxtaposing it against this example of a basic rumba from Franco Formica and Oxana Lebedew does little to justify the pattern's name:


But while ice dance may have liked its r(h)umba kicky and killian-heavy, the ballroom would take the greater share of influence in later years.

Much discussion of on-ice rumba zeroes in upon a program some expected to become the pattern for a revised take on the compulsory: Jayne Torvill and Christopher Dean's "Historia de un Amor" original dance, one of the vehicles of their 1994 Olympic comeback:


This piece is closer to a recognizable rumba than any compulsory pattern, but there's enough that's very much bound to the competitive ice. Most notably, the frequent closed holds, typically emblematic of a faithful recreation of ballroom, unusually here run somewhat counter to rumba's more open holds and separations. Certain choreographic flourishes, like the knee bends from 1:22-1:26, while well-suited to the music, don't contribute strongly to the rumba flavor and would serve equally well in any dramatic piece. For the limitations imposed on it, though, this program does convey direct Latin movement where it can. The hip sway is immediately noticed and present throughout, and the turns are a familiar touch, as is the somewhat languid pot-stirrer at 2:53. There are obvious injections of Latin passion with moments at 1:18 and 1:38. It is, overall, more of an ice dance rumba -- one much more familiar than the compulsory version -- than a rumba on ice, but its style is certainly drawn from its source dance.

The rumba returned to the original dance in 1999-00 and 2005-06, though in both cases in required combination with at least one additional (faster) Latin rhythm. Such a rule makes it trickier to scout out lengthy-enough examples of the style's further on-ice development, but a few can be spotted, and reflect a gradually growing influence from ballroom. The 1999-00 OD from Margarita Drobiazko and Povilas Vanagas -- scored in part, incidentally, to "Historia de un Amor" -- includes an authentic leg-wrap; Dubreuil and Lauzon's 2005-06 salsa/rumba combo must grapple with the inclusion of quite a few more required elements than the previous examples necessitated, but does incorporate a lot of rumba-esque flourish into its slow section.

But even as the feeling of an International ballroom rumba intensified, the choreographic division between that made for the ice and that for the floor certainly remained. Take a careful look, for example, at this 2010 exhibition performance from the high-profile if short-lived coupling of ballroom champion Slavik Krylklyvy and Anna Melnikova:


While there's much here to take into consideration, a few movements worth noting upfront are the opening pose at 0:52 and the rotational lift at 1:04, as well as the in-hold side-by-side work beginning at 3:01. There's also a fairly spectacular pot-stirrer at 3:47 which points up the possibly surprising fact that certain rotational footwork seems destined to be more smoothly executed on floor than ice. Overall, while rumbas designed for exhibition can take on a variety of elements and tricks while remaining in the simple framework of tempo, attitude, and general quality of movement, this particular piece presents a nice choreographic selection -- and is also one of the more-viewed strictly ballroom examples on YouTube.

When the rhumba was revived as the source pattern for the 2011-12 short dance, the vast majority of teams elected to pair it with the samba or another of the recommended quicker rhythms. And one team, working with choreographer Romain Haguenauer, went a very different route, choosing instead to highlight the rumba of the rhumba:


Any actual choreographic inspiration behind Alexandra Paul and Mitch Islam's program is unknown, but watching in conjunction with the above sample is interesting. The style is, like previous goes at rumba, designed to echo that of the floor, but certain elements are more striking than others. The rotational move at 1:44 is the most obvious derivation; the brief pot-stirrer at 2:20 and leg-wrap at 0:53 are slightly more general callbacks to ballroom Latin as seen in the other ice dance programs, much as particular moments in the no-touch step sequence, like the arm motions from 2:58-2:59 and hip and shoulder sway at about 3:04, are also suggestive. The quick flip lift at 3:27, though imperfect, can in ballroom context perhaps be considered a very simplified take on something like the movement at 1:20 in Slavik and Anna's dance. In this same context, even Paul and Islam's straight-line lift at 1:23 -- a particular element of the team's carried through several programs and dance genres over the seasons -- echoes just a little something along the lines of 4:21-4:23 in Slavik and Anna's performance. There's also a bit more in the general way of rumba movement here: the transition to the quicker "Havana Slide" -- less pure rumba than the 2046 Theme of the program's first half -- provides an opportunity for a few seconds of side-by-side in-hold "walking" movement.

Paul's costuming also, incidentally, seems a particularly rumba-inspired choice here.

R(h)umba's history on the ice is both long and relatively challenged. But development certainly points to a growing effort to blend the recognizable components of ballroom work with ice dance's restrictions. A true rumba can not be replicated, but the attempts to honor it more fully can provide a basis for more thorough experimentation in future. And by 2020, perhaps some revolutionary team will even sustain a high-speed pot-stirrer for three seconds or more.

7. Disco

Were it not for the demise of the compulsory dance, the following herein could have been ice dance's 2010-11 season.

The emergence of the hybrid short dance supplanted -- or, rather, subsumed -- not only the compulsory, but the original dance as well, in all its eclectic ballroom to Charleston to folk glory. And with the removal of that segment came the scrapping of not only the ISU's initial planned 2010-11 Midnight Blues compulsory, but, more key to our purposes: the Rhythms of the 1960s and 1970s original dance. The likelihood that every international team would have elected to dodge an option that permitted easy rhythms, in-hold movement, and multiple appropriate lift options is, to be sure, unlikely: Ice disco would have seen its high-profile competitive day.

We are all well familiar with the floor dance, thanks, if nothing else, to the enduring legacy of retro callbacks and parody. But a little history of the genre's development makes an interesting read, illuminating its actual cultural and stylistic origins. Disco was not born of white polyester leisure suits, but of decade-old remnants of jitterbug and swing and more than a touch of salsa and other Latin forms. While formal steps existed, however, disco as a mostly social endeavor was more often, in practice, a little more freeform, following prescribed patterns but mostly comprising walks and flourishes.

Disco also might be remembered a little more for solo showboating than as a partnered style, largely courtesy of John Travolta and a subsequent boom in solo freestyling. That spirit also has its place in skating, as Richard Dornbush can attest -- but the Hustle and its mates are of more relevance here.

This eHow series offers a good instructional look at some general partnered disco movement. Even more of a must-watch for a general understanding of partnered disco is this 1979/80 clip from Disco Step-by-Step, a Buffalo TV series dedicated to all things disco:


Movement is not exceptionally complex. The steps are often of a manageable pace and simplicity, the holds are generally open, and there's nothing too exotic about the turns. It could be replicated on ice with relative ease (and, in its movements as divorced from disco music, has been quite casually), and certainly with greater ease than another social style like hip-hop, but there's a curious fact: on-ice disco is, by and large, all about the flourish and the flourish alone.

The ur-disco program -- at least as far as YouTube is concerned -- is probably Megan Wing and Aaron Lowe's 1998 exhibition to "Knock On Wood":


It takes a little time to move into its danciest groove, but the disco feel is particularly evident at 1:15-1:20 and 2:00-2:07 while 2:11 brings a hallmark of many an ice disco program: the semi-headbanger rotational lift. 1:27 also brings in a through-the-legs move that we'll see again. The gesture, though, is the most obvious reference point to an idea of disco, but it's difficult to describe in any more technical detail; if a thorough glossary of disco arm movements exists, it has so far eluded me.

Well after Wing and Lowe's number came the emergence of several examples of contemporary disco on a popular stage: the choreographic efforts of Doriana Sanchez on So You Think You Can Dance. It's no sure thing that such numbers influenced the next generation of ice dance disco, but at the same time, it offers a rather reasonable point of comparison.

Among the show's disco numbers, it's hard to find many routines that match the energy of Janette and Brandon's while also offering some solid examples of general elements -- the in-hold dancing, the side-by-side gesture, and a few good lifts. The music selection may also sound familiar:


But it's left to a few other routines to demonstrate some key tricks that appeared in Wing and Lowe's number and will be in evidence in later programs. Assisted on-the-floor spins -- which we'll see later -- come in a straightforward manner from Sara and Neil, with the addition of a fun gender equality twist from Kayla and Brandon, and as the entrance and exit from a sequence that evolves into a semi-headbanger courtesy of Chelsie and Joshua. And Mollee and Nathan, for their part, provide us with an impressively gymnastic take on the through-the-legs maneuver.

The standard-bearer for disco on ice might be Emily Samuelson and Evan Bates's 2009 "You Should Be Dancing" exhibition. In-hold action is minimal, but the side-by-side movement is sharp, the requisite tricks are worked in well enough, and Bates even gets a few moments of solo glory:


It might be surprising that a compilation of multiple disco highlight moves comes in a program that should not be a disco number at all. The duets of Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell could by no means be classified as member of a musical genre that hadn't yet come into existence, but Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir still juxtaposed a variety of '60s inspired dance moves with some key disco tricks in 2012's "Ain't No Mountain High Enough":


Not only do we have the semi-headbanger and a through-the-legs move, but they are notably the only team in this group to offer an assisted floor -- ice -- spin, as demonstrated at 1:15.

It's important, though, to consider that each of these examples came through exhibition, a program in which flash and tricks overtake traditional required ice dance movement. What would a competitive take on disco have to offer for in-hold possibilities? Will we ever know?