A few weeks ago I went out on Saturday with high school aged friends to what I was told was a school-based sort of club night but not a school disco, although the fact that the Italian word for club is discoteca always makes me think that they will be full of people with afros and flares. As I was unsure on the etiquette for this night since I didn’t really know what it was all about, I prelashed a bit before assuming I could have something to drink there.
The location was something akin to a town hall that had been decked out with decks, flashy lights and some artsy sofas to make it seem more clubby. My best guess is that this is an event that happens once a month to please the people of Spoleto since there are no clubs here. When we got in, I was confused by the age range since there were people as young as 14 but also people my age and a few random 50 year olds.
The first thing I usually do when I get into a club is grab a drink, but apparently that wasn’t the done thing. I don’t even know if alcohol was on sale, but if it was, no one was buying it. In fact hardly anyone was buying anything from the bar, not even water despite the ridiculous temperatures inside, which just adds to my believe that Italians run solely on caffeine.
To paint a picture, I’d describe the general vibe as being like Bunker if no one was drinking but smoking was allowed inside, which is an unpleasant combination. One thing is for sure: young Italian people LOVE to dance. Never anywhere else have I seen a group of sober 14-18 year olds dance for 3 hours straight without a break to drink, chat, or just sit down for a bit.
What I particularly enjoyed is how even towards the end of the night at 3am when the dancefloor had cleared substantially and there were only guys left, they were still dancing. Many young men here favour an Inspector Norse style dance, complete with arm movements, which perked up my night a huge amount when I was struggling with being very sober in the middle of the night in a smoky room full of teenagers.
The standard dress code for girls was: slightly eurotrashy, synthetic materials, stuff you would never ever see people wearing even on the hottest summer day. For guys the uniform haircut of the moment is a short back and sides, quiff on top kinda deal, although there was one excellently dressed young gentleman who I recognise as a friend of a friend who wore a suit and bow tie complete with a moustache like Michael Cera’s alter ego in ‘Youth in Revolt’. I take my hat off to him for his ballsy choice in facial hair.
I got home at 3.30am, completely sober and wondering exactly what my €10 entry fee paid for. And so ended the tamest 20th of April that ever there was.
Even more dancing:
The last 2 weeks were completely taken over by rehearsals and shows, as I have mentioned, although now that’s all over I am taking a break from dance to write my essay (kill me now).
Here’s a few funny show-related tales:
Each of the 3 shows I was in were with other groups of dancers, so I got to witness a few different (and often weird) styles of dance. In the first show we were on after a contemporary group. Contemporary has never been my favourite style since I find it a bit too wishy-washy and ‘interpretive’ for my liking, which was exemplified in the one I saw where they swayed around stage to a soundtrack of a classical piano piece with a woman saying random German words and numbers over the top. I’m still not persuaded.
Another dance involved three women on skis wrapped in tight gold foil outfits with pointy gold hats shuffling around the stage. I don’t really know what else to say about that. To balance out the weirdness they were followed by two finely chiselled topless men doing acrobatic stuff. I don’t know why they had to be topless but I’m not complaining.
In the final show, which was performed with a dance school, I really got to understand why they always say never to work with children in theatre. Trying to explain to 5 year olds why it’s important not to talk in the wings is practically impossible, as well as trying to stop them pulling on various ropes/curtains/cables backstage.
The best bit was at the end of a dance where the girls must have only been about 4, when the lights faded they decided to stay on stage and chase each other round in the dark, then one girl sat down in the middle of the stage and started to take off her tutu. In the end a very angry ballet teacher stormed out and dragged them off stage, which was lucky since they were very close to have a lemming moment involving the orchestra pit.
Overall I had a great time though and it made me miss Bristol Uni’s Dance Soc show which I couldn’t be involved in this year, but I’ll be back!