"I am so hot..." I muttered as we sliced through the crowd, spun to the right and collided with a man who was whirling past a collection of suits and dresses bouncing in amused denial. "Quick, let's head to the fan by the window."
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The orchestra presented the final few bars of "The Beautiful Blue Danube," which had been playing for 10 minutes. With a bright-sounding flourish and the familiar pounding of the final eighth notes, the audience erupted with applause and cheers.
This weekend marked the annual presentation of the renowned Viennese Ball, held on the campus of the University of Wisconsin-Eau Claire. Liz and I were in attendance, along with friends Ben and Heather from the Moonlight Dance Club in La Crosse.
After passing on the event last year, we were excited to spend the night and give it a try.
After passing on the event last year, we were excited to spend the night and give it a try.
For the past thirty-eight years, the university has assembled an amazing collection of singers, musicians and dancers to celebrate the culture, history and music of 19th century Vienna. It promised the opportunity to dance waltzes and polkas from the Strauss Era in Vienna (1800's and into the 1900's), known as a golden age of romance and elegance.
It was a chance to dress in a formal tuxedo (me) and ball gown (Liz), eat a few tortes, drink some Gewurztraminer Riesling, and dance the night away to the sounds of "The Beautiful Blue Danube," "Emperor Waltz," "Serenade in Blue," "Cotton Tail " and "Thunder and Lightning Polka."
As a dancing event, it's the second largest Viennese ball in the world, next to the original in Vienna, Austria.
My mind was a jumble, as Kellen Burgos, our dance instructor continued.
"The Viennese Waltz is a classic, with quick rotating steps done to fast 3/4 time waltz music. The main difference between the American Waltz and Viennese Waltz is speed." He added, "The Viennese Waltz can be up to four times faster than the slow version. A true Viennese waltz consists only of turns..."
My mind started to panic as I tried to grasp the significance of doing something I was terrible at, only four times faster. "Is it too late to back out of this?" I mumbled.
"What was that?" Kellen asked.
"I think I'm having trouble backing out of the second turn," I lied, and smiled.
"Ok, let's try it again. Now watch." He grabbed his wife, Kathy, and gracefully maneuvered her through the steps -- turning toward his right (1, 2, 3), then to the left (1, 2, 3), interspersed with non-rotating change steps between the direction of his rotation. It looked beautiful, graceful, fun -- and next to impossible.
It was the Friday night before the Viennese Ball in Eau Claire, and Liz and I had decided to get a quick lesson in the waltz to prepare ourselves for the big event. It was beginning to look like an impossible task. Despite the odds, I placed my right hand behind her shoulders, arched back slightly and stepped to my left. And...
Modeled on the historic New Year's Eve Kaiser Ball, the Viennese Ball had transformed the Davies Center on the Eau Claire campus. Included was the cabaret-style Blue Danube Inn, Bosendorfer Salon, the festive Zum Goldenen Lowel Festsaal room, the park-like Liedergarten and a club venue called the Rathskeller.
The ball showcased the University Symphony Orchestra, who would perform the evening's waltzes and polkas; Jazz Ensemble I, who would perform music from America's Big Band Era; and the Dorkf Kapelle (Village Band), which would play traditional ethnic music from the German-speaking countries.
As we arrived, the building was packed with young and old -- I saw a line of guys wearing black tailcoat tuxedos, a band member wearing German lederhosen, someone wearing a Scottish kilt, and in true Viennese tradition, someone wearing a Civil War uniform. The ladies were beautiful in their formal floor-length gowns, some with wide hoops and elegant white gloves. Jewelry sparkles, from simple earrings to expensive diamond tiaras.
Between dances we sampled tortes, kasekuchen, Bavarian pretzels, rindfleisch baguettes, pork schnitzel. Beverages included German and Austrian wines, as well as full bodied beers from Germany. Capping the evening off was a katerfruhstuck -- a tom cat breakfast with omelets, smoked ham, eggs, potatoes and apple wood bacon.
Ich wunsche Ihnen Gesundheit und Freude (to your health and happiness)!
The Dorf Kappelle leader's hoarse voice easily carried across the throng of bodies, despite the lateness of the hour. Standing in front of the collection of brass and woodwind instruments on stage, he shouted, "Ein prosit! Ein prosit der Gemutlichkeit! Eins, zwei, drei, g'suffa! Zicke, zacke, zicke, zacke!"
The crowd roared back, "Hoi, hoi, hoi!" and I grabbed Liz's hand and dashed to the center of the room. As the music began, we leaned back and spun around the room, kicking our legs and feet in our best effort to polka. We were miles from the bleachers of Michigan's football stadium, and months removed from our very own Oktoberfest in La Crosse -- but we danced away to the festive sounds of the tuba, button accordion and trombone.
Laughing, I thought to myself that this isn't that different from the waltz. Yet it felt comfortable and relaxed. Instead of the frenzied take-off and colliding bodies in the Grand Ballroom, everyone seemed to sense each other here and managed to sing and dance in unison. Tux jackets and shoes were removed without any sense of inappropriate behavior or traditional decorum.
But the evening wasn't over.
And Liz and I weren't finished with our waltz. We headed back toward the ceremonial room to eat then try the Viennese waltz a few more times.
It was approaching 12:45 a.m. by the time we approached the dance floor again. My jacket was back on, but Liz had blisters on her feet and decided to try the final few dances without her shoes.
The dance floor was much cooler and less congested as we stood facing each other. I smiled, despite the fatigue of dancing throughout the evening, knowing that it had been a fun night, one I would remember for a long time. The lighting in the room was dim, providing cover for the few bodies that were darting back and forth to the second playing of "The Beautiful Blue Danube."
As we started our right turn, followed by a left turn, Kellen's words from Friday night came back to me. We continued around the floor, unexpectedly finding a rhythm that matched the swelling notes of Strauss' masterpiece. Right turn, left turn, intermixed with the change steps in the direction of my leading foot. Repeat performance, then a quick stop to collect our thoughts. Before I knew it the song had reached its conclusion and I felt the faintest stirrings of what it must feel like to dance the Viennese waltz without the confusion I had felt earlier in the night.
That's not to say that we made no mistakes. Far from it, but I can honestly say that I felt that we were making progress. And for us, that was success, and another reason to dance out the last song of the night.
As we decided to switch to the American dance version of the waltz, we were surprised to find a mass of young students sprinting around the outer lane of the dance floor. They were laughing, jumping and running to the sounds of "The Radetsky March," which unlike the seriousness of most of Strauss's waltzes, was jubilant, playful and hopeful.
Much like the feeling I had as I swept Liz up in my arms and spun into another cycle of alternating spins and steps.
an deinem schönen Strand." (with your beautiful shores.)
As a dancing event, it's the second largest Viennese ball in the world, next to the original in Vienna, Austria.
My mind was a jumble, as Kellen Burgos, our dance instructor continued.
"The Viennese Waltz is a classic, with quick rotating steps done to fast 3/4 time waltz music. The main difference between the American Waltz and Viennese Waltz is speed." He added, "The Viennese Waltz can be up to four times faster than the slow version. A true Viennese waltz consists only of turns..."
My mind started to panic as I tried to grasp the significance of doing something I was terrible at, only four times faster. "Is it too late to back out of this?" I mumbled.
"What was that?" Kellen asked.
"I think I'm having trouble backing out of the second turn," I lied, and smiled.
"Ok, let's try it again. Now watch." He grabbed his wife, Kathy, and gracefully maneuvered her through the steps -- turning toward his right (1, 2, 3), then to the left (1, 2, 3), interspersed with non-rotating change steps between the direction of his rotation. It looked beautiful, graceful, fun -- and next to impossible.
It was the Friday night before the Viennese Ball in Eau Claire, and Liz and I had decided to get a quick lesson in the waltz to prepare ourselves for the big event. It was beginning to look like an impossible task. Despite the odds, I placed my right hand behind her shoulders, arched back slightly and stepped to my left. And...
 |
The ball showcased the University Symphony Orchestra, who would perform the evening's waltzes and polkas; Jazz Ensemble I, who would perform music from America's Big Band Era; and the Dorkf Kapelle (Village Band), which would play traditional ethnic music from the German-speaking countries.
As we arrived, the building was packed with young and old -- I saw a line of guys wearing black tailcoat tuxedos, a band member wearing German lederhosen, someone wearing a Scottish kilt, and in true Viennese tradition, someone wearing a Civil War uniform. The ladies were beautiful in their formal floor-length gowns, some with wide hoops and elegant white gloves. Jewelry sparkles, from simple earrings to expensive diamond tiaras.
Between dances we sampled tortes, kasekuchen, Bavarian pretzels, rindfleisch baguettes, pork schnitzel. Beverages included German and Austrian wines, as well as full bodied beers from Germany. Capping the evening off was a katerfruhstuck -- a tom cat breakfast with omelets, smoked ham, eggs, potatoes and apple wood bacon.
Ich wunsche Ihnen Gesundheit und Freude (to your health and happiness)!
The Dorf Kappelle leader's hoarse voice easily carried across the throng of bodies, despite the lateness of the hour. Standing in front of the collection of brass and woodwind instruments on stage, he shouted, "Ein prosit! Ein prosit der Gemutlichkeit! Eins, zwei, drei, g'suffa! Zicke, zacke, zicke, zacke!"
The crowd roared back, "Hoi, hoi, hoi!" and I grabbed Liz's hand and dashed to the center of the room. As the music began, we leaned back and spun around the room, kicking our legs and feet in our best effort to polka. We were miles from the bleachers of Michigan's football stadium, and months removed from our very own Oktoberfest in La Crosse -- but we danced away to the festive sounds of the tuba, button accordion and trombone.
 |
But the evening wasn't over.
And Liz and I weren't finished with our waltz. We headed back toward the ceremonial room to eat then try the Viennese waltz a few more times.
It was approaching 12:45 a.m. by the time we approached the dance floor again. My jacket was back on, but Liz had blisters on her feet and decided to try the final few dances without her shoes.
The dance floor was much cooler and less congested as we stood facing each other. I smiled, despite the fatigue of dancing throughout the evening, knowing that it had been a fun night, one I would remember for a long time. The lighting in the room was dim, providing cover for the few bodies that were darting back and forth to the second playing of "The Beautiful Blue Danube."
As we started our right turn, followed by a left turn, Kellen's words from Friday night came back to me. We continued around the floor, unexpectedly finding a rhythm that matched the swelling notes of Strauss' masterpiece. Right turn, left turn, intermixed with the change steps in the direction of my leading foot. Repeat performance, then a quick stop to collect our thoughts. Before I knew it the song had reached its conclusion and I felt the faintest stirrings of what it must feel like to dance the Viennese waltz without the confusion I had felt earlier in the night.
That's not to say that we made no mistakes. Far from it, but I can honestly say that I felt that we were making progress. And for us, that was success, and another reason to dance out the last song of the night.
As we decided to switch to the American dance version of the waltz, we were surprised to find a mass of young students sprinting around the outer lane of the dance floor. They were laughing, jumping and running to the sounds of "The Radetsky March," which unlike the seriousness of most of Strauss's waltzes, was jubilant, playful and hopeful.
Much like the feeling I had as I swept Liz up in my arms and spun into another cycle of alternating spins and steps.
"Donau so blau, (Dabube so blue,)
so schön und blau, (so bright and blue,)
durch Tal und Au (through vale and field)
wogst ruhig du hin, (you flow so calm,)
dich grüßt unser Wien, (our Vienna greets you,)
dein silbernes Band (your silver stream)
so schön und blau, (so bright and blue,)
durch Tal und Au (through vale and field)
wogst ruhig du hin, (you flow so calm,)
dich grüßt unser Wien, (our Vienna greets you,)
dein silbernes Band (your silver stream)
knüpft Land an Land, (through all the lands)
und fröhliche Herzen schlagen (you merry the heart)an deinem schönen Strand." (with your beautiful shores.)
Sounds like a great time. Good for you guys giving it a whirl. Loved how you layered in the instruction from your dance lessons. EO
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