(aka. A Winston-Flavoured Salsa Lesson)
It was a bit of a mad dash yesterday. I raced back from this nation's capital barely in time to make it for the last of three taster salsa lessons which had been running weekly in Sheffield's newest salsa night 'Barrio Latino' in Platillos. The previous two I had contrived to miss through a conspiracy of circumstance, and I would not to be foiled again (even if it meant getting out and manually locomoting East Mainline's ageing locomotive).
I walked briskly into the newly revamped and swanky Leopold Square, smack-bang in Sheffield's city centre, and a medium-sized stone's throw away from the veteran Bar Cubana - past the eateries and purveyors of libations which were standing forlornly empty. It was Sunday night and the Square, packed to the gunnels on Fridays and Saturdays, felt as if tired from its exertions.
Platillos is a well-appointed establishment: a bar downstairs and a tapas restaurant upstairs. Entering the lower floor, I encountered a rectangular room with stairs upwards on one side, a bar on the opposite side, DJ booth at the far end, and seating along most of the periphery. The unsprung wooden floor which would have been a tight squeeze for thirty-plus dancing couples, was interjected with two structural columns. The decor is warm and plush; a perfect small venue for a salsa night.
Rob's grin was there to greet me and coax my details onto his organiser's mailing list. We made our first-time acquaintances (he'd heard of me via Facebook apparently) with amiable chatter as I fished out my taster dues - the lesson had been billed as "New York-style" salsa; a mode I'd not revisited in the better part of a decade. What-is-more, the charismatic Winston Mitchell, friend and pillar of the salsa community was doing the teaching. I'd never had a Winston-flavoured salsa lesson before, so I was very much looking forward to this.
Spying him in the far corner, I snuck up to say "hello" and to extort him into accepting a beer using the good ole, "we gotta keep the bar happy to keep the venue ticking over" thrust. He countered with the reliably effective, "you're good, you shouldn't be doing this class"; which I deflected with the philosophical "one's basics can't be too strong" manoeuvre. The riposte he was gathering was beginning to look mighty when, as luck would have it, the exchange was blunted by the appearance of a Winston-fan. I hid behind the decoy and made good my escape.
Winston's lesson was co-taught by Sophie, and structurally contained a bit of everything as all tasters should: basic steps, a short combination with turns evenly distributed across both gender roles, a simple shine, technical pointers, and a bit of styling. It was ably presented with the setting of achieveable goals, and the class was split on the odd occasion as Sophie went through the women's part whilst Winston the men's. The learning atmosphere reminded me very much of Ces and Kerry's (of LatinXces) manner where a patient, easy approach is the hallmark.
If I had been tasked with designing a single-hour taster of NY salsa, it would have borne a similar form.
I had heard from some salseros that they thought Winston's pacing was a little slow. I now I understand why. The perception is based on a comparison with some other instructors who cram their hour with one combination, packed wall-to-wall with turn elements. Like proverbial sardines in a can. Winston on the other hand, resisted the temptation and opted for a short, balanced combination; and used the available time to explain fundamental technical details AND allow sufficient practice of the component parts. It was clear he was after quality.
Next week he and Sophie begin a six-week course. I'm sure that they've already begun addressing their vocal projection (the room is not acoustically kind to an instructor's voice), and will continue to accumulate their range of teaching metaphors. And as experience lends them more polish, I have no doubt that calls for them will increase in volume. NY salsa has stylistically changed since I last was a beginner, and would myself have signed up for its duration had it not been for commitments to Conjunto Laloma. I cannot give a more honest recommendation.
The normally interminable wait between the end of a lesson and the full pace of social salsa didn't happen. Whilst I blinked, Platillos filled up; and suddenly there was pedal-to-the-metal dancing. Ana, Rob's partner-in-crime, was on the decks playing modern dancefloor favourites. As a DJ she set up a strong party atmosphere like in Manchester's long-running Copacabana, mixing it up salsa with merengue, bachata, reggaeton and kizomba. Everyone: the Kenyans, Brits, Angolans, Spanish, Asians, Latins, ate it up - I waited for zouk to come on as the kitchen sink.
...denied...
It was all hot, sweaty fun. But sadly I can't feature a full review, as I had to make an early exit.
'Barrio Latino' is still very much in its birthing phase: enjoying the euphoria of being young, new, and the rapidly escalating success that that conveys. It has all the right ingredients for success: welcoming hosts, a dynamic energy, strong instructors, a crowd-aware DJ, a tremendous amount of goodwill and a clientèle who appreciate that the bar needs to be fed well for the night to prosper.
Whether it can sustain itself to become an established favourite? It's too early to tell. In Winston and Sophie are instructors more than capable of introducing newcomers to salsa and growing the base. The hardest part will be in keeping the product vital; by avoiding the attentions of Complacency in the format - especially in music policy. To the protagonists of 'Barrio Latino' I say,
"It's there for the taking."
Loo
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