Remember Riverdance? It was that 90’s moment when Irish dance landed on the pop culture radar as a viral sensation before the adjective even existed. The show’s humble beginning as a Eurovision Songfest “filler” opened the way for a full-length production that would ultimately be performed from New York to London and everywhere in between, inspiring episodes of such artistically diverse works as “Pinky and the Brain” (the one where Brain tries to clone himself to create the world’s best-loved Irish dance troupe from which to take over the world)! Who didn’t love or parody Riverdance?
I still listen to Bill Whelan’s masterful soundtrack from time to time and cherish it as an impression of Celtic fire at it’s best—a thought about life frozen in digital time with a feel that is both ancient and modern (and those who know me know that I yearn for that mixture). But here’s the thing—on said soundtrack, in addition to the musical prowess, there are also the sounds of the dancers themselves! When I am listening to the tracks, I can hear the moment Michael Flatley takes the stage for his solo—and the moment the whole troupe falls in behind him like an army as if proclaiming in masse, “we know we are rocking your world right now!” As the famous Irishman, Liam Neeson pointed out in the documentary about Riverdance, it represented a nation and culture whose time had come to be celebrated! Dance was clearly fueling that awakening.
This morning found me listening to the remix at the end of the Riverdance album and suddenly a memory from the time—and an inspiration—captured me! In an effort by a few purists to discredit the uninformed populism of that Riverdance represented, someone had targeted Michael Flatley (a Chicago native) for the arm movements and otherwise non-traditional pizzazz he seemed to be adding in to the traditional dance form. (I mean, there is that moment in the opening number that seems vintage Michael Jackson…but who cared?) The other criticism was the one that spoke to me, however. Someone had tried to expose the fact that—wait for it—the producers of Riverdance had actually mic’ed the floor so that they were actually amplifying the sounds of the dancers shoes! How impure!
I don’t remember thinking it at the time, but this morning, it occurred to me mid-track as if my heart was shouting it back to the critics in the 90’s, “Why NOT mic the floor????” I mean, after all, isn’t the dance the point? When you are listening to the track, how great to also “hear” the dance? And if you are in the theatre for the show, why would you object to an enhanced auditory experience of what you actually came to see? Impure? Or boldly expressive of the grand theme?! Yes, like Michael Flatley, mic’ing the floor represented a showmanship, but thank God for the gift of showmanship when we came to see a show—when our psyches are the canvas for the brushstrokes of impact! Come on, those who can, give us a show!
We have had the good fortune of being friends with some of the members of Delirious?, a Christian band whose impact on their genre was no less “viral-pre-viral” than Riverdance. At a time when American Christian music was languishing, some people were calling Delirious? another British invasion. (For the uninitiated, the question mark is part of the band name, not a typo!) Delirious? shows in America were packed and we were all thankful for their artistry and hearts. I remember one show in particular (“Paint the Town” tour, I think) when the band leaned into some Elvis flair. They sported white suits that featured cape-like “wings” from the arms and the production and effects were a little bit space age (so maybe Elvis meets “Lost in Space”?). It was a blast of creative fresh air!
In a time when Matt Redman was writing about getting back to the heart of worship, here were his friends in Delirious? expressing it quite differently—the opposite of “stripped away”. And that’s when it hit me: Delirious? got it: they “got” what a concert is. They understood the platform they had been given and their responsibility to turn it up loud and “show up” on the night! They were mastering the genre in a way not previously done, perhaps because of the fear—not the reality—of losing the heart of worship. Delirious? knew that the heart of worship resided exactly there—in the HEART that worships! Outward expressions, no matter how creative, are either filled or empty based on the heart that generates them. If their show had featured Irish dance, they probably would have mic’ed the floor and flapped their arms!
Society is filled with shaming of “showboats” and I get that. We all definitely need to be pressing into the life skills of noticing, connecting with, and understanding others. And the most creative among us must have an injection of relational capacity into our otherwise self-referenced inner chambers! BUT, there still is a floor to be mic’ed, a dance to be done and amplified, an idea to be celebrated and a show to be put on! We must hold others in high value and learn to be a team player for sure, but God help us not forget the call to produce our own life’s unique “SHOW”! As Bono said at the beginning of “Vertigo,” after counting to fourteen, skipping a few, “Turn it up, Captain!” I take that personally: I am the Captain of my own ship and there are plenty of folks telling me to turn it down! (For what if Spinal Tap was right, not about an amplifier, but about me or you: “This one goes to 11!”)
Riverdance was not just Irish dance. It was a celebration of many dance styles, including my favorite piece from the show, the Fire Dance, which featured the world class Spanish flamenco dancer, Maria Pages. I remember being fascinated to read that flamenco owed its “stomping” style to its gypsy origins. The gypsies, a persecuted people shaped by their lack of a homeland, developed a style that broadcast defiance. With a forceful heel driven into the floor, it is as if they were saying, “I will be here, fully present, in this territory!” If you don’t know you are permanent, greater force is necessary in showing up with all you are right now in the temporary place! Perhaps that accounts for their passion as a people. But aren’t we all transient, in a way? Shouldn’t we all put our feet down strongly in the “now place” to leave a mark once we have moved on? Shouldn’t we all mic our floors???
There was a man named Shammah in the Biblical narrative who was listed as one of the warrior King David’s “mighty men”. What did he do to earn that “mighty man” status? He defended a pea patch against attackers! He warred single-handedly to secure a single plot of land growing legumes. Surely there were other plant-based protein sources available but evidently, Shammah deemed this patch worth his life—and his honor. The lesson is clear: When is a pea patch not just a pea patch? WHEN IT IS YOURS!! When you have lived into the soil, tended the seed, endured the seasons and invested yourself into what “Chariots of Fire” calls, “your one true chance of greatness,” it might be time, like Shammah did, to take your stand “in the middle of the plot” (and do a flamenco stomp if you have to) to defend it! That dance inside you that just won’t quit will inform your determination!
There are preparation times; there are incubation times, but if Shammah’s pea patch was in harvest time, he knew it was time to give the world a show! If you are (like me) afraid of “showboating,” as long as you have realized that you are not the only show in town, then your answer is “fear not”! (Some creatives are the shyest extroverts in town!) Showboating is a matter of the heart and if your heart is right, sincerely desiring to lift up this world that definitely needs lifting up, go ahead and mic the floor, stomp the stomp and impress the fans! God’s opinion about the gift inside you being expressed was settled when He made you. You are a gift. You are a “show”. You are a wonder. You are an idea whose time has come. The purists might not understand. Smile and dazzle them anyway. It’s not too late. Your pea patch—your inner world—is worth it. The show must go on.
