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Rantings, thoughts, diatribe. Anything that captures my interest and hangs around long enough to capture on a keyboard.

Tuesday, 4 September 2012

Cha Cha Charleston!

I've been back at work now for three months and boy, those three months have been jammed pack. As any working parent knows, to work at your job, to look after your family, to look after yourself, to look after all the infrastructure (house, plants, etc) to have a social life, to keep doing some things that are important... you gotta be on the ball 24/7. You have to have the organisational skills par excellence. You need to be Superwoman!

Which I believe all mums are.

This mum looked after herself a few weeks ago and took herself, her husband and some friends to watch Cantina at the Priceless London Underground;  a carnival site that has been set up next to the Southbank Centre.  Cantina caught my eye because it is an Australian show that it is held in a Spiegeltent.  Spiegeltents really capture the romantic, lavish and slightly dark entertainment quality pertaining to carnival/burlesque/cabarte/circus acts of years gone by. The one that hosted Cantina was from the 1920s and looked something like this:

Inside the Spiegeltent during Cantina
Cantina itself was a show worth seeing. Dark, slightly twisted, humorous and at times, uncomfortable, it was not your normal cabaret-circus-one-trick-pony. I loved the atmosphere, I loved the performances, I loved the live music and I just loved the sections where the performers did the Charleston.

They all look slightly bonkers. What's not to love?

There is something about the Charleston that makes me happy. I am no expert but whenever I break out into those jerky moves, I can't stop smiling.

So inspired was I by the tone of the evening that I decided to go to a Charleston dance night. I found one happening four days later hosted by The Bees Knees at Wild Times which is an evening run by the London Swing Dance Society.

A friend gamely came along for the ride and after a swift drink at the local pub, we found ourselves flapping and swinging, twisting and kicking in a underground basement that looked like a studio den from the 1970's. Our teacher taught us a whole routine and whilst her teaching manner was a bit under par; the moves she taught us were pure 1920s jazz, baby!

It was a big dose of performance and dance bliss. Something I sorely needed and won't neglect for too long again.

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