It don’t mean a thing if it ain’t in Berlin
my two left feet
It don’t mean a thing if it ain’t in Berlin… Matt Robinson dons his two-tone shoes to investigate the city’s ongoing swing dance revival
words by Matt Robinson
I dance like a wounded animal. That I inherited my father’s cumbersome sense of balance and ‘girl’s knees’ (the doctor’s term) doesn’t help. Alcohol, strangely enough, seems to. At least initially. But what often looks promising from the outset is soon followed by a descent into flailing limbs, poorco-ordination and seizure-like actions.
Not quite the beginnings of a great tango master. But as it turns out, a good starting block for an introduction into the realm of ‘Lindy Hop’ swing dancing.
Every Wednesday night in Berlin, cool cats, and kittens, from all corners of the city meet at Clärchens Ballhaus Mitte to jump and jive up a sweat on the club’s worn wooden dance floor. Clärchens was one of the most popular of the many Berlin dancehalls that flourished during the 1920s and 1930s, and has recently become a beacon of the city’s ongoing swing dance revival.
Today’s ‘swing kids’ of Berlin come alive each week beneath a huge glitzy disco ball, driven by the contagious rhythms of pulsing upbeat jazz and big band records from the ’20s, ’30s and early ’40s. Scratchy gramophone sounds of Duke Ellington, Count Basie, Benny Goodman and Glenn Miller echo out into the open night as the sweat-drenched swingers wildly shake off the cobwebs from a dance that can be as feverish to watch as it is liberating to try.
Lindy Hop relies on a basic eight-beat rhythm and evolved during the 1920s as a fusion of a number of well-established styles, such as the Charleston, the Texas Tommy and even the foxtrot. With roots that can be traced back to the Savoy Ballroom in Harlem, New York, it’s characterised by free-flow jazz improvisation, including embracing holds and turns, sometimes punctuated with jaw-dropping, plate-smashing aerial moves, referred to as ‘airsteps’.
“Luckily I’ve never broken any bones or seriously injured myself or anyone else whilst dancing,” explains Berliner Lotta Weidl, “I’ve only sprained a few ankles.”
Dividing her life between the dance floor and the artist’s studio, Lotta is the main driving force behind Wednesday nights at Clärchens. As I nervously drag my partner onto the wooden ballhaus’ boards to try my hand (or weak knees) at ‘hopping like Lindy,’ I can’t help but wonder how soon it will be before one of us beats Lotta to the hospital finishing line as the first casualty in the ‘I-broke-something-while-swing-dancing’ stakes. Intoxicated with the idea of attempting an ‘apache swingout’ or ‘sugarpush,’ my movements quickly shift from exaggerated to reckless, especially as I have no idea what either of these manoeuvres actually are. Before long, sensing my partner’s rising alarm, I revert back to basics, refraining from any further aerial acrobatics. I can sense her relief.
Wednesday nights at Clärchens start at about 9.30pm, with a short beginner’s introduction to some basic swing steps and moves each week. Instruction is in German, but also available in English, and performed as bow tie and waistcoat wearing waiters shuffle back and forth and the smell of fresh baked pizza lingers in the air. It may seem out of kilter with the theme, but the kitchen at Clärchens serves Neapolitan pizza and traditional German dishes – perfect carb-loading for hungry dancers.
Etiquette is on the light side. Whether you arrive with someone or intend to find a partner with whom to shake your two-tone shoes on arrival, spending the night alone is rarely an option. The crowd is playful, the ballhaus ‘closes when it closes,’ and the informal if rather abrupt-sounding “Tanz du?” (Do you dance?) introduction makes approaching people easy.
“You don’t need to be reckless and jump around to enjoy swing dancing,” says Lotta. “Plus, there are different styles where you can really dance to the music. Blues when it’s slow and Balboa, which is a much less exaggerated style, when it’s fast. But for most people, Clärchens on Wednesdays means Lindy Hop.”
The origin of the name ‘Lindy Hop’ is unclear but it’s widely assumed to be linked to aviator Charles Lindbergh, who made his record-breaking solo transatlantic flight in 1927, around the same time as the dance was breaking into the mainstream. Internationally the related ‘Jitterbug’ is perhaps more widely known – a name which I must say paints a more illustrative picture – but ‘swing dancing’ is the umbrella term used to describe almost all related styles.
Although it started in the US, swing quickly worked its way to Europe. Germany’s historic ties with the swing dance movement were brought back into the limelight in 1993 with the release of the film Swing Kids, which starred a young Christian Bale, and this is said to have sparked one of the first waves of swing revival in the country. Based on a true story, the film focuses on the lives of a group of swing dancing friends during the 1930s, as National Socialism is on the rise and clamping down on this ‘degenerate’ art-form. Looking at present-day Berlin, it’s not hard to see why this exuberant, free-form dance is back.
“There’s a huge swing revival going on in Berlin right now,” says Andrea Kiersch, owner and main designer of the boutique shop Charming Styles, based in Prenzlauer Berg. “People want to wear the clothes that go with the style of dance and that’s what we sell.” Indeed, the clothing racks at Charming Styles are stuffed with in-house swing-era replica designs, and sandwiched in between these are also a number of much pricier original vintage garments.
At Clärchens Ballhaus, though, you don’t have to come garbed in the full retro gear. There’s no dress code or door policy, and the neo-swing dancers who come each week cover a broad spectrum – from young tattooed couples to spruce old ladies and dapper gents – ready to swing to the sounds of screaming trumpets, walking double bass lines and unforgettable melancholic vocals.
According to Lotta, swing in Berlin isn’t just about dressing up in flamboyant outfits: “It shouldn’t be just a costume party,” she opines. “Wearing the wrong outfit can be dangerous, and you can break things, so it’s best to stick to something comfortable at first.”
A few days after my initial Berlin swing encounter I’m sitting with Lotta outside her art studio, not far from the much-hyped Kollwitzplatz area of Berlin’s Prenzlauer Berg neighbourhood, discussing my progress. “It’s all about having fun, and the good thing about swing dancing is that it’s okay to make mistakes,” she assures me. “Some of the best moves started as mistakes.”
With advice like that I’m almost prepared to pick up my two left feet and try again.
Swing dance nights take place on Wednesdays at Clärchens Ballhaus Mitte, Auguststrasse 24, +49 (0)30 282 92 95, www.ballhaus.de
where to get the kit
Swing dancing isn’t just cool cats in trouser braces and Trilby hats, nor girls being thrown to the ceiling in dresses, stockings and heels. But if that’s what appeals, visit Charming Styles (Paul-Robeson Strasse
47) for original designs without the mothballs from the ’20s, ’30s and ’40s. Herr Von Eden in Mitte (Alteschönhauser Strasse 14) specialises in men’s fitted suit fashion inspired by designs from the ’20s and ’30s. Prenzlauer Berg’s Mauerpark flea market, every Sunday, is also good for accessories.
berlin’s retro clubs
Although most Berlin clubs tend to play German techno, finding one in which to unleash your swing dancing thing in isn’t too difficult. Regular swing evenings are organised at:
Ballhaus Berlin Chausseestrasse 102, Mitte +49 (0)172 327 4169, www.ballhaus-berlin.de
Grüner Salon Rosa-Luxemburg-Platz, Mitte +49 (0)30 2859 8936, www.gruener-salon.de
Café Garbáty Breite Strasse 43, Pankow +49 (0)30 4753 2119, www.cafe-garbaty.de
Taktlos Urbanstrasse 21, Kreuzberg +49 (0)30 683 5835, www.taktlos.de
check out the calendar
The best events are often one-off, promoted either solely through word of mouth or by dance card invitations printed with photos of vintage swing action. Picking up a copy of the Triple Step calendar, available at most dancehalls or online at www.triplestep.de, is a good place to start if you’re new in town and not yet part of the Chinese-whispers-style mode of promotion.
where to get your dancing shoes on in…
Copenhagen
Every Monday night, Copenhagen Swing Shoes host ‘Hollywood lindy hop’ dance lessons in the city’s Vesterbro Kulturhus. There are four different skill-levels of classes to choose from, and all have some 1920s Charleston and 1940s European jitterbug styles thrown in for good measure. Entry is DKK 80 (€11) for non-members, or book 10 lessons for DKK 500 (€67).
Copenhagen Swing Shoes
Vesterbro Kulturhus, Lyrskovsgade 4
Copenhagen, www.swingshoes.dk
London
If you don’t have a partner as keen on learning to jive (or, tango, ballroom, or cha cha) as you are, London’s Waldorf Hilton hotel can provide you with a professional dance partner at one of their Tango Teas. With champagne, dainty scones and sandwiches, and a live band to get you in a dancing mood, you shouldn’t feel too shy to swing dance with a stranger. The next event will be 16 September.
The Waldorf Hilton
Aldwych, London, +44 (0)207 759 4083
www.hilton.co.uk/waldorf
Budapest
Lindy Shock is a long weekend (1-4 November) dedicated to the joys of swing dancing in the Hungarian capital. Prices for the classes and parties at three different city venues range from €50-€170, and the Lindy Shock team can also help you to organise accommodation, sightseeing trips and meals during your stay.
Register online to participate. www.lindyshock.com
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