Someone stands on the sidewalk outside 212 45th Street at 12:55 on a Saturday, looks at the door of Attack Theatre, looks at their phone, and considers walking back to the car. I know this because new people tell me, after class, that they almost did. This guide is for that person on the sidewalk, and for the one who has not gotten that far yet.

What does a beginner adult dance class involve?

In Pittsburgh you can find beginner classes in ballet, modern, hip hop, salsa, swing, contact improvisation, and a dozen other forms, and the word beginner means something different in every room. Some classes assume you have never moved to music in front of other people. Others assume you took ballet as a child and stopped, which is a different starting point and a different class.

Three questions sort most listings. Does the class require prior experience, and does the listing say so in plain words? Is it a drop-in or a series, and can you try one before paying for all of them? What happens in the first twenty minutes? A class built for true beginners starts with warming up and paying attention to the body before asking it for anything, teaches anything new slowly and in pieces, and makes room for people to do less. A class that opens with a phrase across the floor is for someone else, and that is fine, but you should know before you walk in.

What happens in my class?

My class is called Come and Dance with Me! It meets Saturdays, 1 to 3 pm, at Attack Theatre, 212 45th St, in Lawrenceville, and the class itself runs 90 minutes. Four things happen in it.

  • Somatics. We arrive, which means noticing where you are in your body before asking it to do anything: feet on the floor, breath, the weight of the arms. I am a somatic coach as well as a dance teacher, and this part of the class comes from that work, so it is slow on purpose.
  • Conditioning. Warming up, building a little strength and stamina, getting the joints moving through their range. Nobody is counting your reps.
  • Choreography. A short phrase, taught in pieces, repeated until you can do it without thinking about it. You will get it wrong, as everyone does, and the getting-it-wrong is most of the learning.
  • Improvisation. There are no steps: I give a prompt, the music plays, and you move however you move. People who dread this part on the sidewalk tend to name it afterward as the part they came back for.

The music is fun, which is a deliberate choice, since people learn faster and stay longer when they want to hear the next song.

Do I need any dance experience?

None. The class assumes nothing, and all bodies are welcome, which I mean in the literal sense: any size, age, or level of mobility and coordination, and any history with movement, including having been told at some point that you could not dance. If you have an accessibility need, call or text me before your first class so that I can plan for it rather than improvise on the day.

What should I wear and bring?

Clothes you can move in and sweat a little in, and a water bottle. If you are unsure about shoes, ask me when you call. You do not need to bring a partner, a playlist, or a reason.

What does it cost?

$25 per class or $125 for the series. If you have never taken a class and are not sure, drop in for one. The series makes sense once you know you want to be in the room every Saturday, and the choreography builds more easily if you are.

What if I am bad at it?

You will be, at first, in the sense that you will not know the phrase and your feet will do their own thing during the improvisation, and this is the condition every single person in the room started in. Nobody is watching you, since they are watching their own feet, or the mirror, or the teacher, and by the third song they have stopped watching anything. The class has no audience and no recital, and the mistakes are the material it is made of.

How do I sign up?

The schedule, the series dates, and the registration link are at /dance/. If you have questions before committing, call or text, and I will answer them.

The person on the sidewalk, in my experience, comes in four minutes late, takes the spot nearest the door, and by the improvisation section has forgotten the door is there. The next Saturday someone else is standing on the sidewalk, and they walk past them and in.