| 06 August 2011
A dance marathon that’s a bit like They Shoot Horses, Don’t They? Professional dancers alongside a bunch of amateurs, grooving along to a foot-tapping band? Great, I thought. Sounds like just the sort of thing I’m in the mood for...watching.
True to the Edinburgh audience member stereotype of chin-stroking observer, the fear factor started to kick in when a numbered bib was thrust into my hand in exchange for my ticket, along with a disclaimer to be signed as a precaution should any injuries take place during the performance/marathon/trauma. Uh-oh. Any faint glimmer of hope that I might be able to slink into the background, sip on a beer and peek voyeuristically at everybody else being flung around this dancing derby was shattered as we walked into a room with numbered feet stuck to the ground—the numbers, of course, tallying with those on our bibs—upon which we were directed to stand, partnered with an unknown.
Once the shock of forced participation had subsided (when I say ‘forced participation’, I really mean ‘suggested participation’ in the way that scientists ‘suggested’ participants give electric shocks to strangers in Milgram’s experiments of the 1960s), I found myself getting strangely seduced by, or subverted into, the spirit of the proceedings.
Dance marathons, or ‘walkathons’ as they were commonly known, were a craze that swept America in the 1920’s and ‘30’s. These gruelling events that stretched on for as long as two months, organised by opportunistic promoters, played on the desperation of a nation in the midst of a punishing depression. Hopeful amateurs danced alongside planted professional marathon dancers who were competing to win an ever-evasive pot of prize money. With just fifteen minutes of rest every hour—and with increasingly regular ‘endurance’ events added to the marathons once contestants started to show strain—casualties often emerged in the form of fallen arches, shin splints, hallucinations and heart attacks, all played out in front of a wide-eyed audience.
At just four hours, the Dance Marathon at the Traverse is a very much shortened version and is a far cry from the derbies as presented in the cinematic classic, They Shoot Horses, Don’t They. Appeasing me further was the fact that skilful or coordinated movement is thankfully not a requirement and the ‘suggested participation’ meant that there was, on the evening I attended, no audience to laugh at any dad-at-an-office-party style dance moves. Phew.
However, the sinister nature of the original events was certainly hinted at throughout the show and intensified in its latter half. Within a vibrant, inclusive, party atmosphere—with genres ranging from disco to the Charleston, from hip hop to ceilidh, from the hula to house, and even encompassing a mass-crowd rendition of YMCA —the beautiful MC’s commanding presence at times felt mocking and cold; the camp referee on roller-boots, although mostly comical, seemed occasionally unfair and harsh in his judgements; even some of the partners were not who you thought they were.
Drawing comparisons between the public humiliation on reality TV shows of recent years and the dance marathons of old, the singing presenter dragged eliminated contestants onto the stage for an ‘exit interview,’ which was projected onto video backdrops. Small competitions that interspersed the dance sessions, such as the ‘moral walk forward,’ ensured the darker side of humanity was always bubbling on the sidelines of this unique and engaging show. The deception of dancers being mixed in with the rest of us was both exciting and unnerving. Being part of the show provided a connection between audience and cast that I have never quite experienced before and made the fascinating historical theme all the more tangible.
I awoke the following day thinking that I had had the weirdest dream about dancing in a show with a load of strangers and a referee on roller-boots and disco lights. Then I remembered the YMCA bit and knew it couldn’t be true. I mean, me dancing to YMCA? Me? YMCA? With an Edinburgh audience? I don’t think so.
Dance Marathon, Traverse Theatre, 3-14 August, 7:15 pm
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