25th January 2009 Barrio Latino @Platillos, Leopold Square, Sheffield

(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

29th November 2008 Rob Yoxon's Salsa Party

On the surface it might seem strange that I would choose to blog about, of all things, a house party.

But for me, salsa is not just about the glamour of the shows, the all-nighters in the paid dance halls, the workshops, the routines of Strictly Come Dancing, nor the jet-set 'superstars' appearing at international congresses. That might be very much what it is today, but it was the humble house party that kept Salsa's heart beating during its youth, and through the doldrum years when the record labels tried unsuccessfully to tell us that salsa flojo was the way of the future.

Nuyoricans used it then to raise rent money, helping part-time musicians cobble together a living at the same time. Rumbas, parrandas, bachatas still erupt in houses and backyards in the cities of present-day Latin America. And some have chosen to migrate here to the steely-grey winter of Sheffield.

Rob's been a stalwart of our salsa scene for many years and has been putting on a salsa house party every month or two since establishing himself in his current place. In the many years that I've known him, I hardly recognised in him the urge to instruct or to demonstrate; he never seemed to be distracted from what he loves most - and that is dancing with other people.

Now salsa as a social activity has the potential to become politicised, people jockeying for position on the hierarchy, instructors vying for students. Rob's parties are like a watering hole in the Serengeti where everything's put to one side and everyone simply has a drink and a dance. Nearly a year ago (at another of Rob's salsafests), I said to one of Sheffield's leading salsa teachers that I thought what Rob managed to do was "quite remarkable". The response I got was, "I wouldn't go that far."

I don't think the instructor quite got it.

I asked Rob the other day, how he went around inviting people. He has a large house, and he knows a lot of people - I was thinking that there would necessarily be some sort of selection process to make this work, otherwise he'd be swamped. Rob simply replied that he just invites all his friends, and about half of them turn up... no worries so far. That just sums him up to a tee.

A person who loves salsa so much that he puts on a semi-regular event through his own time, effort and expense; where people are willing to suspend their differences to gather, drink and dance; where the music is generally agreed to be more varied (like kizomba, merengue, bachata) and better than most salsa clubs running; a party that is unintentionally true to salsa's early past.

Rob Yoxon gets it more than most.

Loo Yeo

30th May 2008 Steel City Salsa Social@Millenium Hall, Ecclesall Road, Sheffield

Millenium Hall is a terrific venue located close to the Hunter's Bar end of Sheffield's trendy Ecclesall Road. It's commonly confused with the Polish Club which also features an events hall, to which it adjoins. With a capacity of easily more than a hundred dancers plus peripheral seating, it has a lovely wooden (albeit unsprung) floor, a bar, a low small stage, a high ceiling and decent ventilation. The latter points lend it particular strength as a dance venue, which Bill Newby of Steel City Salsa / Sheffield Tango Argentino has been doing for several years. And once every couple of months or so, he puts on a social which is well supported. His formula is also to introduce something different, like a sevillanas display, and/or guest teachers.

This time, a Kizomba lesson plus demo by Sheffield Angolan resident Antonio and guest DJ Helena of Fuego Latino shared the billing. I'd heard about kizomba, seen it on YouTube, but had never encountered it in the flesh, so last Friday seemed as good a time as any to do so.

It was a bit of a mad dash to get in from work and get there in time for the eight o'clock lesson, and I realised that despite remonstrations on the leaflet to be prompt it was to no avail. I spent the time catching up with some friends. Antonio is a slight, personable character in the local scene and this was his maiden outing as a teacher, having finally succumbed to pester power by friends. With teaching support provided by Bill and two very capable demonstrators, Antonio made it through the session. Considering it was his first time, and his lack of instructor training, I would say without a hint of condescension that he acquitted himself well. The content comprised a line-dance routine as a warm-up which he was to use again later in the night, and a couple of simple pieces of vocabulary.

Wearing my dance instructor's hat, it was most useful for me to observe his quality of movement and which parts of his body held which bits of time. It was also very interesting as a dance system, changes being led by the lead's left leg and a concommitant rhythmic cue by the body in very close hold, and different rhythms for even the basic bits of movement vocabulary. The proof of the pudding is that at the end of the session, I found myself wanting to know more about the dance - the ultimate objective of any introductory lesson.

And then the social dancing started.

I always enjoy Bill's parties. His music policy always has a fit of reggae plus RnB at past-midnight, followed by more salsa, then a smattering of tango at the end. Africando is a constant companion. Impatient salseros tend to leave when the reggae comes on, but if you take the time to enjoy the sounds of Bob Marley, you'll find yourself back in Cuban rhythms before you know it. The formula works well for the night but I suspect that if it were any more frequent, it would assume the guise of the routine.

But I find myself going there as often as I can, not because of the music, but because the atmosphere is welcoming, and the people are friendly... a good number of whom have become friends. Sadly, Sheffield seems to suffer a dearth of mid-sized salsa dance events like that of SalsaWorks in Wetherby, and Dance-Cubana's party in Nottingham. But whenever this is on, it's not unusual to see dancers from the nearby cities turn up.

Bill's social truly lives up to its name.

Loo Yen