DANGERS' FACES

Evening Star, Issue 19661, 14 September 1927, Page 14

DANGERS' FACES

HOW SOME MUST SUITER! Not being a dancing man, in the real sense of the word, i have plenty of time when I am literally dragged to a dance by my wife to study the dancers —and lately it has struck me what an extraordinary variety of expressions dancers register—to use a film expression—when gyrating round the room (says a writer in ‘Horae Chat’). . First of all there is the serious face, the owner of which seems to consider that dancing is a serious undertaking. The whole time he is dancing his face is as solemn as that of an owl, no matter how cheerful his partner is or how gay the music. 1 often wonder if the owner of the serious face really enjoys dancing, or whether ho merely indulges in order to stimulate his brain, and whether, as ho jigs and prances up and down the ballroom, he is turning over some knotty problem in his mind. Then there is the ferocious face. .As I watch him pushing his way through tile crowd of dancers I quake in my shoes and ‘hank my stars that 1 am not a dancing man, for his brows are drawn together and his chin sticks out like that of a heavy-weight champion about to deliver a knock-out blow.

His partner never glances up at him, her eyes being fixed on the top button of his waistcoat or the gloaming expanse of his shirt front. Poor soul, 1 expect sho is praying for the dance to end before he murders her or something. Following close upCm the heels of the ferocious-i'acc* man appears the man with the sentimental face. What a contrast! This face seems 1 o have slipped. The mouth is drawn down at tlio corners, and the eyes arc misty with unshed tears of love. He gazes down into the eyes of his partner, and I am suro lie is murmuring through those tremulous lips: “ You sweet little girl!” or “Your dancing is divine, dear!” Anyway, he appears to ho rather a nuisance, because ho is so occupied in making love to his partner—or attempting to make love—that he rarely looks where he is going, and in consequence ho is continually barging into other couples, which, however, disturbs him not at all On tho other side of the room, jigging up and down in the throes of a violent exposition of tho Charleston, gleams a jazz face. It is red —very, very red—and it perspires freely. The hair is long, and dances in time with tho music. The mouth is open, while the eyes are fixed noon the owner’s feet. The whole exoression can only be summed up in the word jazz. Tho face is symbolic of this cod which rules in tho hearts of misguided mortals who place jazz before everything else, not excepting their food. Slightly to the left of tho jazz face is a talkative one its tongue is never silent from the first crash of the cymbals to tho last whine of the saxophone. Uenerally, as in this case, the owner i= short and rather on the plump side while his partner is quite a head taller A.h! They are coming this way! “Ha, ha! He, he! My dear girl he was. , . . Yes, really. . . . No, not on Sunday, my dear. I’m sure it was a Saturday. ... I didn't tell yon about Jack. . . .” But I mustn’t forget tho bored face. These faces are not very numerous, hut if one is lucky one can generally manage to pick out at least one dancer head and shoulders above everyone else dancing with such an expression of boredom on his face that one wonders whether his partner is his country cousin sent to town to he.amused by a rich aunt from whom he has expectations. Ho pays not tho slightest attention to Ins partner, and should she he so unwise as to make a remark lie elevates his chin a little higher and drawls out an unutterably bored “ Really!” Then, apart from the faces I have described. there are many others of less importance. For instance, there is the painful face. This face can readily be understood because it belongs to a man who lias been unfortunate in the choosing of his partner, having asked her for the dance on the recommendation of a so-called friend who was anxious to gel rid of her.

She is stumbling all over "the place, and his pained expression is his way of registering “ I-am-a-good-danccr-really-but-just-look-at-this-girl!” Then there is the vacant face. This is quite distinct from the bored face, because whereas the bored faco has got an intelligent look about it this vacant faco is completely devoid of intelligence. With eyes fixed unseemingly in front, its owner dances, answers questions, makes remarks and says “I’m sorry!” as in a sort of imbecile dream. Then finally one gets the happy face. The face which belongs to tho man who likes dancing, but not too much; tho face of the man who can dance, but not too well to get swelled-headed about it; the face of the man who is determined to get the maximum of enjoyment out of the dance without going to extremes in order to try to get more than the maximum. And then, of course, there is the shy face—or perhaps I should say the shy person. The man, and lie’s usually rather young and new at the job, who cannot say a word to liis partner for fear of being put off iiis stride—who daren’t hold a girl in a reasonable embrace for fear—presumably—that she may stick! It has occurred to me that I Jiave dealt entirely with the faces of the mule dancers. That I have only mentioned tho feminine jiggers and gliders and prancers cn passant, so to speak, and considering the matter I can only conclude it is because women, when they dance, remain just—themselves. They havo no dance faces. They only have their ordinary faces attached to bodies which are dancing.