Act Your Age... Dancing to the Music of the 70s, 80s, and 90s

First appeared on Retirement News Weekly, Issue 31

I hate dancing.

Correction: I hate dancing without a partner.

Certainly one can find joy in dancing with someone you love. And surely one can appreciate dancing with someone you’ve just met. But for a man, dancing alone is akin to giving a speech in English to thirty drunken strangers when all you can speak is Mandarin. Despite this, I still go “dancing” and it’s a testament to just how much I enjoy the company of my friends and how eager I am to get out of my apartment on a Saturday night. This week, like many before, I was invited to attend Retro Night at the Paragon Theatre. This local club plays music from the past four decades once a month. Of course, I was going to go with only slight trepidation.

Wearing a Ghostbusters T-shirt and a hoodie, the closest thing I have to retro clothing, I headed to the Paragon around 11. The frigid air cut through my thin sweater as I climbed in the cab with the troop of girls coming with me. The line at the club’s entrance was short and after having our IDs checked at the door, we entered the main lobby. Once in the bar, I got a beer as the girl’s rushed to the dance floor. I in no way encourage indulging in social lubrication, but when it comes to dancing having a beer in hand doesn’t hurt. I could see the girls on the floor having a ball. After another swig, I headed to the dance floor.

When I’m uncomfortable in a situation I begin to study my surroundings like a scientist. Thus, on the dance floor with dozens of my peers grinding and jumping to retro music, I sought direction through observation. I searched the crowd looking for any man who seemed to know what he was doing in hopes that I could mimic his actions. What I’ve come to realize is that while women seem to dance with purpose and joy, men dance like they’ve just soiled themselves and hope no ones looking. One arm up, one arm down, awkwardly looking around... or maybe that’s just me.

Through these observations, I’ve narrowed down what men do on the dance floor to five moves. They include:

#1) The Sway, when a man stands on the dance floor, usually holding a beer or drink, and sways side to side.

#2) The Cool Guy Nod, when a man leans against a table, bar, or post and just nods his head to music.

#3) The DJ, when a man pumps his fist in the air or air plays an imaginary turntable.

#4) The Grind, when a man finds a woman, stands behind her, puts his hands on her hips, and wiggles… in a way that doesn’t look incredible silly. This one often gets more graphic, but that’s the tame version.

And #5) Wild Abandonment, when a man just wants to dance and with wild abandon throws himself into his moves.

Without fail, there’s at least one of these on every dance floor. I spotted him early on that night. He kind of looked like a young Patrick Swayze in a flowery t-shirt with three too many buttons undone. With little inhibition and a lot of hip thrusting, he danced alone while people watched with dropped jaws. The occasional girl tried to engage him for the sake of humor, mockery, or an interesting story.

Personally, I tend to go with the sway. Far from cool, but as I feel awkward already, it tends to bring the least amount of attention my way. I find myself incredibly conscious of the degree of my sway. Am I swaying too much? Do I look like the hand on a grandfather clock? Maybe I’m not swaying enough. What if I look like I’m just standing there? The easiest thing a guy can do with a group of girls he knows is prevent unwanted guys from joining in. It gives you something to do. So in between my sways, I’d spot the girl’s trying to thwart unwanted advances and stand between them and the violator.

As the night progressed, the dance floor got more and more crowded so that my degree of sway became less of an issue. I could barely move. Being a giant, my concern shifted to a fear that I’d crush someone if I moved too quickly. Streamers flew through the air and beach balls bounced through the crowd. People tried to slip past me as they made their way to the bathroom or another group of friends. I was left wondering if I was wet with my own sweat or the writhing bodies surrounding me. One of the guys who’d met us at the bar saw my discomfort and pulled me aside.

“You just need to point and stare intensely in random directions,” he said with only a hint of mockery in his voice. “That’s the best dance move.” He proceeded to demonstrate and the stranger beside him joined in.

We eventually made our way to the outskirts of the dance floor and people started to sit down: a little tired and a little bored. One of the girl’s we’d come out with was a salsa dancer and I took her hand and asked for tips. She proceeded to show me some moves: a lot of hip wiggling and special steps. I failed horribly, but when asked to dip her, I was all aces. I think I’m an excellent dipper.

“If I were to dance with a girl, could I rely entirely on dipping?” I asked her.

“Probably not,” she replied and laughed. Oh well.

We stayed out until around 1:30 and then took a cab home. A night well spent. The music that played during the night ranged from Duran Duran to Air Supply to Def Leppard. But it didn’t matter that the music was at its peak popularity before most of us were born. Dancing to these ageless songs connected us to a different time in the same way that in 15 to 20 years we’ll be finding Snoop Dogg and Eminem in the oldies section of an online store. So dance! Dance for exercise! Dance for fun! Or just dance to reconnect to a different time and place!

I Can Explain… Justin Bieber

Justin Bieber; upon the utterance of his name pre-teen girls across the country squeal with glee. But who is he, why is he famous, and why is his hair so long? Don’t worry. I can explain!

Justin Bieber (Pronounced Bee-Bar, though it kind of rhymes with “beaver”) is a 16 year-old R&B singer from Stratford, Ontario. Raised by a single mother, he showed signs of musical talent from a young age, teaching himself how to play the piano, drums, guitar, and trumpet. His mother began to post his vocal and instrumental performances on Youtube.com. Watching the short-haired Justin playing a guitar that seems far too big for his 13-year-old frame, one can see why his videos were watched by so many people, including Scooter Braun. This record producer flew Justin and his mother to Atlanta where he met and impressed Usher. Mentored by Usher, Justin earned a record contract and his first single “One Time” launched his career.

Like the dozens of children artists that came before him, Justin is now a pre-teen heart throb, that’s heavily publicized and manufactured. His short hair has grown into his famous shag known as “The Bieber” and is imitated by fans and non-fans alike. His face is on t-shirts, posters, and coffee mugs and he’s currently attempting to transition into movies. A rumour began about Bieber staring in a remake of Back to the Future, and while it proved to be just a rumour, it certainly is a sign of things to come.

Of course, Justin does have his haters. There are those who feel he’s just one more child, in a long line of children, whose careers are manufactured by publicists and whose fame will last about as long as it’ll take to text “I <3>

If you do happen to listen to his music, he uses the term “Shorty” at regular intervals. Confused I asked my girlfriend what “Shorty” meant and apparently it means “girlfriend” or at least a serial monogamous female partner of some sort. Just so you know!

So what does the future have in store for Justin Bieber? It’s hard to say. Though given the string of child singers we’ve seen in the past decade, it’s not looking good for Bieber. Likely he’ll end up yet another sacrificial celebrity that the world will love to watch fall (Read: Britney Spears, Lindsay Lohan, etc.). Alternatively, he could continue to make music as his fame slowly fades (Read: Lil Romeo, Lil Bow Wow) or disappears altogether (Read: Well… they’re long gone so I can’t remember their names). Or maybe, just maybe, he’ll be the next Justin Timberlake.

So, in conclusion, if you’re interested in listening to the music that your pre-teen granddaughter listens to or are just curious to find out if a 16-year-old Canadian has what it takes to be hip hop, then take a listen. And if not, be glad that I can explain!

The Power of a Little Finger: A Profile of Robert Cooper

From the June 25, 2010 issue of Retirement News Weekly/Niagara

In the late 1960s, Robert Cooper was 14 and living in London, England with his parents. Walking pass the Royal Albert Hall one day, young Robert was intrigued by a large, door-sized poster promoting a variety of choirs and on a whim he bought a ticket for 60 cents. As Robert stood surrounded by hundreds of young people, the conductor came out causing the crowd to go silent. Then Robert’s senses were flooded by what he later found out was the Symphony of a Thousand No. 8 by Gustav Mahler. This moment is one of those moments that help define a man’s life.

Mr. Cooper, now 62, continued to follow this engrained passion for choir music, which he traces back to that moment, and is currently the Artistic Director of Chorus Niagara, the Orpheus Choir of Toronto, the Opera in Concert Chorus, and the Faculty of Music Women’s Chorus, University of Toronto; additionally he teaches when the opportunity presents itself, presents at conferences like the 33^rd Annual Chorus America Conference last week, and guest conducts a variety of choirs on the side. He accomplishes this all, while making time for his wife, a school principal, and his two sons, 21 and 25.

While Robert lived in London for a year, he travelled all over Canada in his childhood. Robert was born in New Brunswick to a father in the RCMP. He lived everywhere from Halifax to Ottawa. His parents were not musically inclined, but never discouraged him and did the best they could with their gifted child. Robert performed on stage for the first time at the remarkable age of six in Ottawa’s Little Theatre production of Rumpelstiltskin.

He didn’t get any formal training until high school, where he performed in a variety of high school musicals. A performer at heart with a passion for his art, Robert continued his education and received a Bachelor and Master degree in music at the University of Western Ontario. He credits this formal education for his focus and discipline.

“When I look back, I knew I had some kind of innate raw talent,” he explains. “I had a talent and I had a way to be just… larger than life, but it was all unfocused. University gave me more discipline, a little more humility, and a greater depth of understanding of what our culture is. So I could bring more to what I’m doing and not be all surface-y and flash and dash.”

But practical experience was also necessary to get Robert to where he is today. He went to Germany to study under Martin Stephani and Helmuth Rilling. He then worked for the CBC for 31 years producing choir programming, while developing his own choirs. He’s been the president of the Ontario Choral Federation and the Association of Canadian Choral Conductors. He taught as a guest lecturer for two 7 year stints at the University of Toronto. In 2003, he received an Honorary Doctorate from Brock University and was appointed to the Order of Canada for his contributions to Canadian choir music. For his connection to Niagara, however, we have to go back to 1989.

It was Bob and Joe Henderson, friends of Robert’s and singers in the Niagara Symphony Chorus, who invited Robert to lead their choir through their transition. At the time, there were only 42 people in the chorus and it took four to five years to turn the group around. Today they’re called Chorus Niagara and they’re a full-fledged arts organization with over 100 members, a concert series, a board of directors, a budget that is well over a quarter of a million dollars, and a children and youth choir component.

As artistic director it’s Robert’s job to provide artistic leadership, programming ideas, and creative impetus to the group, while pushing them to reach their musical ambitions. And Robert has his share of musical ambitions for the group. In the short term, he wants to see his chorus singing at the new art centre that is being built in St. Catharines. He’s also commissioning works for the opening of the new health centre and for the celebration of the 200^th anniversary of the War of 1812. Primarily, he strives to take Chorus Niagara to a level where “when people come they know that they’re going to get a high standard of performance every time.”

He also wants to challenge the audience to reach new levels of appreciation for his music. He recalls, “In one performance we did a work that was quite complicated. And I said to the audience, ‘You know what? I’m not going to tell you to sit back and enjoy. I don’t necessarily want you to enjoy it. But I want you to be touched by it. I want you to be poked by it… prodded by it. I want you to close your eyes and listen to it. Just let the music seep into your pores and see what effect it has.”

He seems to always come back to this; the importance that the people and the music play. He explains that the real satisfaction is working with the 18 to 80 year-olds that make up his choir.

“When you leave you feel like you’ve touched people,” he explains, “and they’ve touched you and you’ve come together in a collaborative situation all because of the music; that uniting spirit that the music brings to the rehearsal.”

Last year, Robert brought Chorus Niagara on their first international tour. While in London, right off of the airplane, the tour organizers needed to keep his group busy, while the hotel was getting ready. They took his group to the Royal Albert Hall. With his career coming full circle like this, Robert took time to pause and consider where his life has taken him; a life filled with music, people and a professionalism that has helped take Chorus Niagara and Robert to the level that they are at today.