With twangy old-time music being played in the background, about 75 dancers, ranging from children to senior citizens, filled the hall on the second floor of Central United Methodist Church, 215 N. Capitol Ave., in Lansing, on March 15.

A caller started shouting dance moves, directing the group to form two lines facing each other before leading them to bounce, swing and do-si-do.

Dancers dressed for comfort, be it flowing skirts, jeans, sneakers or no shoes at all, to take part in this repetitive style of dancing, called contra.

Stemming from old European dances, contra is similar to square dancing. Though it’s traditional, people still gather in Lansing at least twice a month to take part in dances sponsored by Looking Glass Music and Arts Association or the Ten Pound Fiddle.

Bonnie Wheeler, dance coordinator for Looking Glass, said in order to contra dance, “you basically just have to be able to walk forward.”

Dancers stand in lines facing each other and follow directions from the caller to move up or down the dance hall.

“You meet everybody,” Wheeler said.

“You get to flirt with everyone in the line, and originally, it was a social dance so people could meet other people in the community and it was an acceptable way to flirt.”

Tinisha Kuykendoll – who was on her feet nearly the whole night — said she fell in love with contra dancing when she was 14.

“The atmosphere is amazing,” the 19-year-old Lansing Community College sophomore said.

“It’s so energetic.”

Bob and Laura Stein, both retired MSU professors, said they have been dancing since they were kids — sometimes as many as five nights a week.

When the couple moved to Michigan from Massachusetts in the late 1970s, they couldn’t find any organized dances, so they gathered local musicians and started their own.

“I organized the first dance and sure enough, musicians showed up and people showed up to dance,” said 73-year-old Bob Stein.

“It’s just exploded since then,” Laura Stein, 70, said, noting the dances used to be held in the Union Ballroom.

Wheeler said there’s a big feeling of community and there’s no pressure to get all the moves right.

“It’s a participatory thing, it’s not a performance thing,” she said.

From street to stage

Ashley Wade tells people she was raised in a dance studio.

But even though she serves as performance director for Urban Dreams dance team at MSU, she was trained in almost everything but hip-hop — the group’s main style of dance.

“I’ve been trained in ballet for about 10 years, modern about 12, tap, jazz, lyrical,” the kinesiology senior said.

“(Hip-hop) was just something I picked up.”

Wade said people on the team come from different levels of experience, but many have backgrounds in other types of dance, all of which are incorporated into performance routines.

During Urban Dreams’ March 19 rehearsal in IM Sports-West, sneakers squeaked on the wood floor of a racquetball court as dancers prepared for a Thursday night performance.

Dancing to a mashup of hip-hop tracks, the team practiced fast-paced routines of fancy footwork.

Urban Dreams – an acronym for United Races Blended as Notorious Dancers Representing Each Aspect of Modern and Street — was formed in 2002 and rehearses at least twice a week for performances throughout the school year.

Wade said street dancing is made of moves not likely to be taught in a studio.

“It’s really like you see somebody do it and you just try to pick it up,” she said.

Aisha Lee, who joined Urban Dreams earlier this semester, said she has never had formal training but has been dancing for about 10 years.

She said dance for her is more than a hobby.

“I really love to perform onstage … but it helps me in my everyday life because I stay conditioned and it keeps me grounded,” the accounting junior said.

“Being part of the team give me the extra energy and determination.”

Another dancer on the team, Samantha Brown, also said it helps her during school.

“This is the only thing I do that lets me release myself,” the interdisciplinary studies in social science and health studies senior said.

“It’s like an outlet.”

Wade said because she’s come such a long way with dance, she feels like she’s been taught more in dance than in school.

“That’s crazy, but that’s how much I’ve studied dance and I have a really strong passion for what I do,” she said.

“It is a lifestyle.”

Storytelling in motion

When Lexi Moeller stopped dancing during her freshman year of high school, she felt a huge void in her life.

“I totally lost my sense of direction and I figured out, OK, I have to dance,” she said.

When her mom found Ruhala Performing Arts Center, she started taking classes and said her intuition told her it was the right place for her.

“It’s where I belong,” the 19-year-old said.

“My body knows that, and my whole being knows, OK, this is where you are.”

Since graduating a semester early from Okemos High School, in January 2007, Moeller has been a full-time student at the center.

She is there almost every day, totaling up to 45 hours per week, participating in several ensembles.

She also assists other dance classes.

On March 18, Moeller and the rest of the center’s dance theater company practiced four pieces that will be performed during a production of “The Vagina Monologues” this weekend in Lansing’s Old Town.

Each piece told a different story — one represented violence and used self-defense-like moves to a tribal drum beat, and in another the girls sang along to Jill Scott’s “Hate On Me,” representing what Moeller called “pure womanly power.”

Moeller said the dances express everything from innocence, to empowerment, to comfort, to oppression.

Mark Ruhala said dance for theater incorporates different genres and disciplines of dance, along with different types of theatrical work.

“Our dancers are based in storytelling and rooted in acting work — emotional, truthful acting,” he said.

Moeller said the style is hard to describe.

“It’s not really modern, it’s not contemporary dance, it’s not ballet, it’s not jazz,” she said.

“If you want to go into the emotional truth, I’d say it’s emotional truth through movement.”

In September, Moeller will move to New York to pursue a professional dance career.

“It’s life to me,” she said. “It’s movement, it’s vitality, it’s feeling the most a human being can feel without using words because that’s, I like to think, how we started — through communicating. We communicated through our bodies, through our behavior, which is movement, which is dance.”