Taxi dancing, in which dance partners are hired for a short periods of time similar to the rental of a taxi, was at its peak of popularity during the 1920's and 30's. In “closed dance halls” only male members of the public were allowed in. All of the women presnt were employed by the establishment. Male patrons entering a closed dance hall would buy dance tickets at the cost of ten cents each. When a patron presented a ticket to a taxi dancer, she would dance with him for the length of a single song. The taxi dancers would earn a commission on every dance ticket that they collected. Typically, half the price of the ticket went to pay for the orchestra, dance hall, and operating expenses, while the other half would go to the taxi dancer.[i] This led to taxi dancers being refered to as “nickel hoppers.”
During the 1920's taxi dancers, who only worked a few hours each evening, frequently made two to three times the salary of a woman who worked in a factory or a store.[ii] However this high salary came at the price of the dancers reputation. Taxi dancers were commonly viewed as women of ill repute and shunned by the community. These Puritanical views were typically unfounded. While there were some dancers who made arrangements to meet their clients at a later time, most would never have been classified as prostitutes.
“Filipinos, workers and students alike, came dressed in McIntosh suits, eager to spend their hard-earned wages on taxi dancers. Here, Filipino men made rare social contact with women—taxi dancers who were largely white, occasionally Mexican, and very rarely Filipina (see Meckel 1995 for a detailed study of taxi dancers). Filipinos would purchase their dance tickets, choose their favorite girl within a group of taxi dancers, and move to the music of a live band. For ten cents per dance number, slow or fast, Filipino men could choose to dance with the same dancer until their tickets ran out or opt for the pleasures of another. Like a taxi ride, each dance came with a ticketed price and the expectation of a tip, either in the form of a drink, a sandwich, or perhaps even a marriage proposal.”
~ Lucy Mae San Pablo Burns[iii]
Popular novels toyed with the public fascination with the taxi dancing “bad girls” for decades. The Victorian ideal of a hearth bound domestic angel still held fast in the heart of the working class white male. A woman with her own money and desires was a threat to his supremacy.
“At Sixth I turned the corner and walked down to Main. I wandered through the crowds of seedy, hungry derelicts without destination. At Second I stopped before a Filipino taxi-dancehall. The literature on the walls spoke eloquently of forty beautiful girls and the dreamy music of Lonny Killula and his melodic Hawaiians. I climbed one flight of echoing stairs to a booth and bought a ticket. Inside were forty women, lined against the opposite wall, sleek in tight evening dresses, most of them blondes. Nobody was dancing, not a soul. On the platform the five-piece orchestra banged out a tune with fury. A few customers like myself stood behind a short wicker fence, opposite the girls. They beckoned to us. I surveyed the group, found a blonde whose gown I liked, and bought a few dance tickets. Then I waved at the blonde. She fell into my arms like an old lover and we beat the oak for two dances."
~John Fante, "Ask the Dust"
Taxi-dancing was a lucrative profession during the 1920’s and 30’s. Popular girls earned $30 to $40 a week
1958 novel with a jacket blurb reading: "For the need of money and desire for sex, the taxi dancers wandered to all corners of life's gutters!"
Most taxi dancers were everyday girls who came from working class families which had fallen into difficult economic situations during the Depression
Songs such as “Ten Cent a Dance” written Richard Rodgers in 1930 for the Florenz Ziegfeld musical “Simple Simon” also cashed in on the taxi dancers mystic.
Hollywood profited by further romanticized and vilified the women who worked in taxi dance halls producing movies such as “The Nickel-Hopper” (1926), “Taxi Dancer” (1927), and “Ten Cents a Dance” (1931).
This still from Stanley Kubrick’s 1955 film noir “Killer’s Kiss” was shot at the Parisian Dance Land at 49th and Broadway in New York City
The busiest taxi dancers were masters in creating the illusion of romance. Often bereft of female company, there were many Manongs who “ate this up.” They lavished their favorite girls with gifts. In turn, many of theses girls became experts in the art of “fishing” and worked their patrons for meals, cash, clothing, jewelry, or anything else that came to mind.
"As soon as the girl receives a ticket from the patron, she tears it in half, gives one part to the ubiquitous ticket-collector; and the other half she blandly stores with other receipts under the hem of her silk stocking—where before the evening is over the accumulation appears as a large and oddly placed tumor. She volunteers no conversation: as the music begins, she nonchalantly turns toward her new patron ready for the dance with him."
~Paul Cressey[v]
Uncle Eddie (left) and Uncle Raymond (on the right). Uncle Raymond loved to get dressed up and go dancing
A taxi dance ticket. In addition to the dance halls in cities such Los Angeles, San Francisco, Sacramento, and Stockton, "floating" dances followed the Filipino migrant workers from California's Imperial Valley to the central and coastal valleys.
For a single dime, any male patron of a closed dance hall could dance with a “hostess.” While not all of the girls were pretty, most of them were young, slender, energetic, and had the ability to dance well. Taxi dancing was a short lived profession. Very few girls found it possible to continue to attract patrons as they approached middle age.
Knowing all the tricks that would attract men and keeping them willing to pay was what the taxi dancers stock in trade.
"It pays to dance close and fast. Act like you're just full of pep. When I'm waiting for dances I walk along the side acting like I'm full of the Old Nick. Sometimes I feel just the opposite, but I couldn't afford to show my real feelings or I wouldn't get the dances."[vi]
In an effort to be physically appealing, many of girls dyed their hair blond. The fashion of the day called for shorter finger curled hair, pale skin, rouge, lipstick, and eye shadow. Girls who could afford it had artificial eyelashes applied by salons in a process that could take up to two hours. Taxi dancers favored dressing in evening gowns which were long, sleek, and sophisticated. Thick, clinging fabrics and broad square shoulders were wide popular. The dresses were tailored to best flatter their figures.
"Say," Lila said to me, "why don't you blondine your hair? You know all the Filipinos go for blondes.
I'm afraid you won't go so big. You are too quiet and don't fix yourself up enough. And those earrings! Why the hell, if you’re going to wear them, don’t you get some that aren’t so big and don’t look so much like they came from the 10-cent store?
Of all the goofy ideas of makeup - you have the world beat! You come over to my house tomorrow and I'll fix you up before we go to the dance. One bottle of peroxide will do it. Your hair ain't so dark anyway. And then we'll put a hem in your dress and make it tighter. You aren't such a bad looker. Your shape ain't bad, but you don't know how to show it."[vii]
Most of the taxi dance girls were white, a few were Mexican and even more rarely, a Filipina was seen. No matter who presented a ticket, the taxi dancer was expected to cheerfully dance with him regardless of race, religion, social class, or handicap. On a busy Saturday or Sunday night, a good half dozen languages could be heard amid groups of various immigrants engaged in animated discussions. Dance halls became a social melting pot, one of the few places where whites, blacks, Chinese, Japanese, Filipinos, and Mexicans mixed. This was not always without incident. While jealousies and animosities over who had attracted girls or obtained jobs often led to fights between ethnic groups, it is important to note that dance halls allowed racial integration, both on the bandstand and on the dance floor.
The mixing of races, even for a single dance, was frowned upon during this era.
“The dance halls are said to be the beehive of troubles. It is true...Filipinos are sports; they pay a good price for their good times, even to the point of being tricked and ‘fished’ and gold-dug by the girls so that it is the girls and the dance hall owners who are made fat pigs by the sweat of the Filipinos' labor. And they are the ones to starve should the Filipinos no longer patronize the dance halls.”
~ Amado D. Dino 1931[viii]
So if taxi dancing was such an expensive, and sometimes dangerous, proposition, why go? The answers are multifaceted, vary from man to man, and are not always quick to emerge.
Immaculately attired Pinoy
"In the dance halls, Filipino workers developed a dynamic alternative subculture where they celebrated the body attired in McIntosh suits, expensive formal attire with padded shoulders and wide lapels worn by some of Hollywood’s most famous leading men, such as William Powell."
~ Linda Espana-Miram[ix]
Taxi dancing offered the men of the Manong Generation, who faced a daily struggle against of low paying jobs and overt racism, an opportunity to live out a social fantasy of dressing and playing the part of a powerful, successful, virile young man who could have any woman he desired.
“…by wearing flashy suits and dancing with working-class white women Filipino immigrant laborers dared to challenge the prevailing white supremacist racial ideology that forbade their contact with white women. The dance halls also provided a space where Filipino laborers could forge new identities and cultural practices. They flaunted their sartorial flair, traded gossip and stories, danced, played jazz music, and, most importantly, pursued ‘wine, women, and song.’”
~ Dawn Mabalon[x]
The Swinging Jazz of the late 1920’s gave birth to a bouncy six beat variant named the Jitterbug. Band leader Cab Calloway made it infamous when he introduced a tune in 1934 entitled "Jitterbug". Filipino musical performers, such as Seattle's Moonlight Serenaders, traveled up and down the West Coast playing the latest music for eager crowds of dancers.
“Should Negro Musicians Play in White Bands?
"No! Definitely No!" said many leaders and side men.
"But why?" asked DOWN BEAT'S reporters. "It's professional suicide" said one, "but don't quote me. It's not fair for Negroes to replace white musicians when there is so much unemployment." "The Union should forbid it!" said another.
"It will break down race lines," said a third. "But in music and art we thought there were no race lines," interposed DOWN BEAT'S reporter. "Of course there aren't," replied the musician, "but dance music is a business, not an art. And we've got to make a living!"
~"Downbeat” October 1939[xi]
In turn, the dances preformed in taxi dance halls evolved from prim foxtrots and waltz to Swing styles which included the smooth, joyful Lindy Hop (named after pilot Charles Lindbergh), the wild, bouncy Jitterbug, and the erotic “dirty dancing” of Slow Drag in which passion and virility were expressed through improvised moves that simulated intercourse. By 1936 the swing was popular throughout the entire United States. Dancers were forever improvising and searching for new means of awing spectators with their self expression by incorporating tap, jazz steps, and acrobatics into their dancing.
"I've never seen a Lindy Hopper who wasn't smiling. It's a happy dance. It makes you feel good."
~ Frankie Manning
Sporting McIntosh Suits and perfectly polished shoes. Flashier shoes drew more attention to the footwork of the dancer
"Filipinos as a rule are splendid dancers"
~ Jeanne de La Moreau, "Confessions of a Taxi Dancer"
Finally, a simple but often overlooked answer as to way taxi dancing was for popular among the Manong Generation was the music and dancing itself. Music, dancing, and having fun felt natural and familiar. Music is deeply embedded the Filipino culture. Almost every region has its own special dance. The music, singing, dancing, and celebratory atmosphere of the taxi dance hall served as a fragile cultural link to celebrations, communal dances, and parties the Manongs had experienced in their homeland.
It thrills me to notice performances such as “Sayawan Na” which use interactive dance and music to relate the stories of Filipino immigrants to the United States. Noel Gamboa is on to something deep and timeless, something beyond words!
"Talk about dance? Dance is NOT something to talk about. Dance is to dance. "
~Peter Saint James
If you live in New York, New Jersey, or Connetitcut, don’t miss “Sayawan Na” which will be playing throughout 2010. For more information visit the website at http://www.carouselpinoy.com/sayawan_na_tagalog_dance_musical.html
ENDNOTES
[i] Cressey, Paul. “The Taxi-Dance Hall: A Sociologic study in Commercialized Recreation and City Life ”
[ii] Cressey, Paul. “The Taxi-Dance Hall: A Sociologic study in Commercialized Recreation and City Life ”
[iii] San Pablo Burns, Lucy Mae. Dance Research Journal, Volume 40, Number 2, Winter 2008, pp. 23-40
[iv] Life Magazine, 1937
[v] Cressey, Paul. “The Taxi-Dance Hall: A Sociologic study in Commercialized Recreation and City Life ”
[vi] Cressey, Paul. “The Taxi-Dance Hall: A Sociologic study in Commercialized Recreation and City Life ”
[vii] Cressey, Paul. “The Taxi-Dance Hall: A Sociologic study in Commercialized Recreation and City Life ”
[viii] Dino, Amando D. "The Filipino Situation in America (editorial)," in The Philippine Review, (Seattle), Vol.1, no. 10 (February 1931), 8.
[ix] Espana-Maram, Linda “Creating Masculinity in Los Angeles’s Little Manila: Working-Class Filipinos and Popular Culture, 1920s-1950s”
[x] Mabalon, Dawn. Review of Linda Espana-Maram’s “Creating Mascullinity in Los Angeles’s Little Manilia” H-Urban, February, 2007
[xi] Downbeat, Vol. 6, No. 11, Chicago, October 15, 1939
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