Strangers connect by slow dancing
Parties purge awkward teenage memories
What better way to get to know somebody than to slow dance with them? MARK HOPKINS
Every few months, Calgarians of all ages spend hours swaying the night away in the arms of a partner, friend, or stranger.
The combination of dim lights, slow songs and the sheer silliness of a bar full of adults slow dancing serves as the perfect way for attendees to have fun while connecting with friends and strangers at the aptly named Slow Dance Party: Calgary.
Organizers say the “delightfully charming” events are also a chance for participants, who have ranged in age from 18 to 60-something, to slow down in today’s fast paced and digital world and connect with friends or strangers away from a screen.
“What better way to get to know somebody than to slow dance with t hem?” said Mark Hopkins, who helps organize the events.
Hopkins is the same community-building Calgarian who regularly invites strangers into his living room for an event he started more than five years ago called We Should Know Each Other.
He sees the slow dance events as an extension of the work he’s done within Calgary to help people connect with each other.
A total of seven slow dance parties have been held in Calgary since the first event was hosted at a now closed Calgary nightclub in May 2011.
The parties allow attendees to slow down in a fast-paced world, said Patty Thille, who brought the Slow Dance Party concept to Calgary after attending similar events in Ottawa. There have been others in Montreal as well.
“It’s a different speed of interaction. It’s not a speed I see a lot of in general and in Cal- gary in particular,” said Thille, a PhD candidate in sociology, who recruited friends, including Hopkins, to help organize the parties.
Songs selected for “maximum slow dancibility” allow attendees to both relive and redeem their previous slow dance experiences, typically nervous, hormone-fuelled events.
“It’s definitely a reclamation of those experiences that we had in middle school or whatever. Those were awkward,” Hopkins said.
Lindsay Ross, who puts the music playlists together for the events, said she thinks of them as a chance for participants to redo their teenage slow dance experiences.
“A lot of adults feel a lot more confident hopefully than they did then, so it’s a chance to make better memories,” she said.
The Calgary events have grown into a warm and welcome space that attracts a diversity of people from both straight and queer communities.
The evenings, which have been held at a variety of local bars, typically consist of three hours of slow songs, broken into three 50 to 60 minute sets. Attendance numbers have ranged from 60 to more than 150 people.
All attendees wear name tags and volunteer “designated dancers” help keep wallflowers dancing. Every event raises money for charities, which have included Camp fYrefly and Possibilities Calgary.
While a few slow favourites are played at almost every dance (power ballad November Rain by Guns n’ Roses, Bonnie Tyler’s Total Eclipse of the Heart and Truly Madly Deeply, by Australian pop duo Savage Garden have become Slow Dance Party staples), Ross strives to play different songs at each event.
The variety of ages who attend the parties has caused Ross to pick at least a few songs each age group will remember from their junior or senior high school slow dancing days, resulting in a slow playlist that spans the decades and unites strangers.
“I love seeing people on the floor dancing and reminiscing about songs or getting excited about newer songs,” Ross said.
“The concept is pretty silly. People laugh when they hear about it. People feel like they can be silly and just have a good time.”