Have you ever wished to experience the Lindy Hop like they did at the Savoy Ballroom back in the 1930s? Or to sway your hips through a mambo reminiscent of the Palladium Ballroom in the ’50s? Or strike a pose in an ’80s vogue battle? All this can happen within a museum setting. If you’re in need of a dance lesson, the Museum of the City of New York has got you covered.
In the exhibit “Urban Stomp: Dreams & Defiance on the Dance Floor,” you can select a record and place it on a turntable. Sounds simple enough, right? But here’s the twist. As the record spins, dancers appear around you through video, encouraging you to join in.
This exhibition takes visitors through 200 years of social dance in New York City, showcasing artifacts, photos, wall texts, and video clips you would typically expect in a museum. However, it also features video screens with friendly instructors who teach the basics of different dance styles. By the time you reach the interactive dance floor at the end, you’ll have learned a thing or two.
The unique concept reflects the exhibition’s theme. “Urban Stomp” explores New York City as a hub for creating new dances or borrowing from other styles to forge unique expressions, as noted by Sarah Henry, the museum’s chief curator. More importantly, it highlights what Henry describes as “the ongoing creativity and evolution of New York.”
“The remixing and blending, the collaborative spirit that has existed since the 19th century, captures the essence of this city,” Henry explained.
The initial tutorial video showcases ballroom dances popularized in the early 20th century by Vernon and Irene Castle, who were significant figures of their time that borrowed from Black dance forms and collaborated with Black ragtime musician James Reese Europe. Nearby, a case displays some of the Castles’ instructional manuals and a lock of Irene’s hair, cut when the bob hairstyle became fashionable. You can explore these pieces and then learn the fox trot and the Castle Walk.
The exhibition encourages participation to create a more immersive experience, especially given the subject matter of dancing. “One challenge we face,” Henry mentioned, “is how to honor the art of dance in an exhibit since it is dynamic and cannot simply be confined.”
Henry aims to create a blend of “rich historical elements,” such as an invitation to the 1860 Prince of Wales ball or a collage of salsa club flyers and tickets, along with tangible items that bring movement and life — for instance, the trumpets of Louis Armstrong and Miles Davis, Celia Cruz’s platform shoes, and Big Daddy Kane’s flashy tracksuit. “This is our way of incorporating these artists within the exhibit, and along with historical videos and the instructional segments, it brings the past to life.”
As the dancing animates the display, the exhibit’s topics come alive too. Scholar Derrick León Washington, the show’s co-curator, remarked, “The dance floor serves as a place where individuals are constantly exploring and redefining concepts of identity, race, and gender. It tells the stories of migration and immigration, alongside narratives for those who have been marginalized.”
Essentially, “Urban Stomp” builds upon Washington’s earlier exhibit, “Rhythm & Power: Salsa in New York,” presented at the museum in 2017. That exhibit highlighted the mix of Afro-Caribbean and European music and dance termed salsa in the 1960s, looking at the rise of Puerto Rican immigrants in the 1950s and the Afro-Cuban mambo phenomenon. (That show was also bilingual, as is “Urban Stomp.”)
Following the salsa exhibit, Washington initiated a community-focused project, “Urban Stomp: From Swing to Mambo,” which traced the history back to swing jazz and dances such as the Charleston and Lindy Hop, primarily created by Black residents in Harlem during the 1920s and ’30s.
The “Urban Stomp” exhibit connects the past of the 19th century with the present, highlighting genres like bachata and merengue from the Dominican community, which has become the largest immigrant group in the city since the 1980s. Towards the end, you’ll find a section dedicated to vogue, hip-hop, and the hustle, three styles that emerged around the same time (from the 1960s to the ’80s) and shared cultural roots in neighborhoods like Harlem and the Bronx.
“Vogue, hip-hop, and the hustle converse with earlier dance events,” Washington explained. “They represent unique spaces for expression, showcasing inclusivity and exclusivity, as well as diverse costumes and regalia.”
While guiding visitors through the exhibition, Washington highlighted a dress from the 1970s worn at Studio 54, showing its resemblance to a tango dress worn by Irene Castle 60 years earlier. “The changing same,” he noted. Attendees might also notice that a step learned in the swing section appears again in the hip-hop section under a different name.
Promoting inclusivity, Washington emphasized how the exhibition embraces various aspects of diversity. This includes not only gender, race, and ethnicity, but also age, borough, and body types. The short and simple tutorials also showcase the variety within each dance style, like the different types of salsa or vogue, as well as the range of hip-hop dance trends across generations (like the Cabbage Patch and the Sturdy).
Crucially, Washington pointed out that leaders from each dance community contributed significantly. The vogue lessons are led by LeFierce LaBeija from the Royal House of LaBeija, which was established by Crystal LaBeija in 1972, and was the first ballroom house — serving as a home and a family for queer people of color.
“We take great pride in showcasing our identities for 10 months,” said Jeffrey Bryant, the global overseer of the Royal House of LaBeija. Being featured in the museum, he remarked, “is a bold statement to affirm our presence and our deserved recognition.”
“Much of our culture has become mainstream now,” he said. “We…
We appreciate your admiration, but it’s important to recognize the rich history behind it. We want to use this platform to help educate people.
Bryant explained the term “dips” for the dramatic drops dancers make: “Let it be clear that Kiddie Liddah LaBeija”—Bryant’s house name—“has stated that it is neither the Death Drop nor a Shablam. It is simply called a dip.”
Karel Flores, one of the salsa instructors at the show, mentioned that Afro-Latin dances, like salsa, are frequently overlooked in discussions of dance history. “This is a significant advancement, as we are finally recognized for our contributions.”
While the exhibition cannot cover everything, it includes a variety of dance styles in a section titled “Traditions Remixed.” Here, you’ll find contemporary city blends, such as the Colombian cumbia evolving into a New York variant and the fusion of Punjabi bhangra with hip-hop, along with Chinatown block parties. A sign from the Urban Contra Dance community reads: “Anyone Can Ask Anyone to Dance.”
