A friend listed her essential components of Lindyhop: athletic posture, pulse, and stretch. Unsaid, but assumed: the music swings.

I’ve been learning a variety of dance styles. I’ve spent the most hours practicing Lindy. I’ve gone through some balboa phases, and am excited for the upcoming Great Lakes Balboa Escape. I’m a regular two-stepper at the Empty Bottle. I’ve recently dipped my toe into hip hop and waacking at Rhythmhood. Salsa was the first style I practiced at length. I waltz casually.

Learning a variety of dances helps one differentiate styles. I sometimes feel a bit awkward at the Honky Tonk Happy Hour, because my two-step often turns into a walking swing. That same friend mentioned above clarified that traditional Texas Two-Step is more up-right and glidey. She likened it to a Fox-Trot. The follow often walks backwards, whereas I generally lead a two step side-by-side in a slight V-Shape.

Defining dance styles rigidly is itself a bit awkward. Stylistic syncretism makes dance interesting. Dance taught in studios often adds more definitions and structure to an art form that was born out of informal exchange of movement ideas at social events and informal dance sessions. Still, differentiation of certain key stylistic characteristics can be a sign of respect. Dance involves the creation of safe community spaces. Sharing a stylistic vocabulary can deepen trust between individuals. Coming into a new dance space and dancing a different style may feel threatening.

I’ve dance Lindy long enough now that I feel I can experiment with my personal definitions of the dance without blatantly treading on its traditions. I generally agree with my friend’s three points, but lately, have come to suspect that end-points are crucial to what Lindyhop is and can be. The end-point seed was planted when I walked in on a group of seasoned Lindyhoppers gathered in a backroom at Uptown Swingout. They were teaching each other West Coast. I heard one person say, “In Lindy, we talk all the time about end-points…” In two-step, the circular progression helps feel a connection to one’s partner. The lead is always directing the partnership in a clear direction. The lead can’t help but lead with their body. In Lindy, there is no set direction, and the axis of movement is always changing. Often times, the sensation of a partner connection gets lost. One may feel as if they are moving independently. It no longer feels like Lindy. I recently been seeking out those endpoints. That is, the “end-of-the-rope” Nicole Wood talks about. This is the inherent stretchiness John Hölmstrom and Kerry Kapaku emphasize. From these endpoints, the partners feel one-another. When the end-points are reached, then redirection is possible. So much of the dynamism of Lindyhop movement comes from reaching those limits of moving away.