Thursday
Nights @ Ryles!
From Stuff@Night
Feb 3-16, 1998
"Close Encounters", p 25
Muy caliente!
Tired of dancing 10 feet away from
your partner? ALICIA POTTER finds salsa
offers the perfect opportunity to get
close and generate some heat. ERIC
ANTONIOU snaps the action.
At
Upstairs at Ryles, in Cambridge,
conversation stops abruptly and all
eyes fix on the slim, springly man
at the front of the room . Jaws drop.
Raul Nieves is swiveling his hips.
The dance instructor's undulations
are so fluid, so smooth, it's hard
not to stare at places one usually
doesn't stare at.
"Oonka-ha! Oonka-ha!" he
chants. Nieves is limbering up to teach
an advanced salsa class, a popular
offering at the club's cayenne-hot
Temporada Latin night on Thursdays.
Nieves puts the needle to the record,
and a calypso pulse of horns, bongos,
congas, and timbales sends his pelvis
into overdrive. He hops to the stage,
smiles broadly, and trills, "Are
you ready to Mambo?"
Oonka-ha! His 20-odd students of all
ages take to the small dance floor.
They whirl and swivel, all the while
watching the infallible metronome of
their instructor's hips. "Yes!"
Nieves cries.
But what about those poor souls who
think salsa's just something you dip
your chips in? No problemo. Temporada
Latina (smoke free, 21 plus, $10 cover)
is not only for salsa aficionados.
Following the advanced class which
begins at 8:30, is a beginner class
at 9.
The beginner class is more this senorita's
speed. As Nieves salsas with the experienceddancers,
instructor Suzanne Steele gathers us--about
50 students--for a crash course on
the basics. First, we mimic Steele's
sensual swivel. Then, we try with partners.
"Oonka-ha," we murmur. "Oonka-ha."
We add a step, practice, and then switch
partners (a good girl-to-guy ratio
lets friends go together without dates).
Feminism flies out the window--I am
quite happy to let my partners lead.
As a result, I graze only three ankles
and elbow two rib cages. I think I've
got it!
Steele explains salsa's crescendoing
appeal. "People don't necessarily
want to dance 10 feet away from their
partner with 10 people in-between,"
she say, describing most clubgoers'
typical night out. "With salsa,
you have physical contact, but there's
none of the stiffness of ballroom dancing."
In fact, despite the pedagogical focus,
Temporada Latino couldn't be any looser.
At 10, the lessons halt and the house
lights dim. It's open dance time. A
DJ spins the beats, and a disco ball
dapples the ceiling with scarlet. A
steady crowd of regulars starts filing
in, stomping snow from thier shoes
or kicking off boots for sexy heels.
An hour later, the room's packed shoulder
to shoulder; couples spill off the
dance floor. The more experienced dancers
like Bolivians William and Edith Mahin
strut their stuff next to novices like
Paolo Rocchietta, 25, and Rebecca William,
22, who at first do more talking than
dancing but eventually find their groove.
"It may be cold outside, but this
generates some heat," Rocchietta
tells me.
Suddenly, I learn just how much. Nieves
beckons me. I protest, "Oh no!
I'm not ready for you yet!" But
it is too late. His hips swaying almost
to his elbows, he swings me, he twirls
me, he whirls me across the room. "My
hips hurt!" I shout above the
beat as I try to keep up.
"Relax, " he says. "your
hips are the ocean; your ribs are the
atmosphere." If this is true,
I am an environmental disaster.
Nieves presses his body to mine and
growls, "I love the element of
danger." He lets out a whoop.
He spins me some more, and the crowd
blurs around me. I almost--almost--let
out a whoop myself but I am distracted
by my shortsighted decision to eat
black beans for dinner.
The song stops. I am breathless, sweaty,
dizzy. As I pant my thanks to Nieves,
I can't help but realize that, in spite
of my churning stomach, I also feel
very, well, womanly.
Steel was right. She had warned me
that the magic of salsa in not what
it brings out between partners, but
what it brings out in a the individual.
Never mind a beer, a rose between my
teeth sounds perfect about now.
|
|
