A Pivotal Moment
In a Newport Beach dance studio, where suburban matrons tango with clean-cut teachers, a steamy session of sweat and passion rages.
It is a longing for stardom that pounds in every step, as Peta Siddall and Josie Neglia, dance teachers and competition partners, lunge and whirl to a paso doble.
Eyes glued to the studio’s mirrored walls, their dance is driven by events past and present--each step built on years of plies and barre work, recitals in tutus for her and tights for him.
If they are to make a splash in the big leagues of dance, if fame and recognition are to be theirs, the time is now. This month, their competition season begins in earnest.
Only a year ago, Siddall found himself burned out, with no desire to dance competitively. Instead, the man who had won numerous international Latin ballroom dance championships devoted himself to coaching others. That is, until Neglia, an old friend who had become known around Southern California as the Salsa Princess, rekindled his love for competitive dance.
For Neglia, 30, who left her partner to dance with Siddall, the pairing vaults her into the big time. For him, it is a vehicle for a riveting comeback. Win or lose, their dancing feels fresh and new.
As the paso doble ends in a flourish, the 31-year-old Siddall, lean in black jeans and a Versace T-shirt, pulls Neglia’s body to his with a growl. She wraps 2-inch fingernails around his neck, then as she catches his expression in a studio mirror, pants, “God, Peta, I’m almost afraid of you when you do that.”
He grins and says, “A paso doble is the man’s dance.”
That they are dancing together at all is a huge gamble in the staid world of ballroom dancing. Their partnership blends Latin ballroom elegance with edgy street-based salsa.
For both, it is the dancing that matters most. It has been each one’s passion since childhood and a source of joy in life. Even the rote repetition of steps cannot dim that thrill.
For years, they’ve lived like most professional dancers: teaching, rehearsing, traveling and performing. They have spent 10- to 12-hour days on their feet giving private and group classes. At night, after their own lessons and practice sessions, they massage sore feet and ankles to ease the cramping.
It’s worth it, they say, to be able to live their passion.
“The gamble is that, at worst, we don’t win,” Siddall said.
There is pressure on both of them, and they practice ignoring it with the same diligence they use to perform their steps in perfect tandem.
“I knew people were wondering, ‘Who is this new girl Peta is dancing with?’ ” said Neglia, who started jazz and modern dance lessons at age 7.
She was in her teens when she began ballroom dance lessons, and only because she spotted her mother’s car parked outside a dance studio in her hometown of Toronto. Inside, she found her mother whirling to the lilt of ballroom music.
Neglia’s eyes half close as she recalls the sensation that such dancing gives her.
“To me, it’s ecstasy . . . complete fulfillment,” she says. “Dancing brings out the womanliness in me.”
Siddall dances because he learned as a boy in his native Manchester, England, that he can drown out the world when he performs.
“Most of the boys at school were playing soccer, and there I was doing ballroom dancing,” he said. “I took a lot of heat for that.
“But dancing equalizes everything--haves and have-nots, money, class, everything. I think we all want to be accepted, and from the age of 11, that’s where I’d get acceptance.”
Siddall has had significant competition experience and won acclaim in the Latin ballroom world. Neglia is widely viewed as one of Los Angeles’ premier dancers, almost a brand name in salsa circles.
A graduate of York University in Toronto with a major in dance, Neglia has parlayed her top-notch teaching skills and “Baywatch”-style good looks into instructional videos sold around the world.
Promoted on https://www.salsaweb.com, the most popular salsa site on the Internet, her videos are in demand in Japan, Norway, England and Germany. Her company, DanceXitement, has grossed more than $100,000 in sales.
Now, tapping into the worldwide craze for salsa dancing, Siddall and Neglia are incorporating moves typically performed in dance clubs into their Latin ballroom performance routines.
They rehearse in the morning before teaching duties begin and often meet again after work and practice late into the evening.
Siddall always seems to be limber, no matter the time of day. But Neglia starts a session with stretches. As a warmup, they run through five complete dance styles--cha-cha, samba, rumba, paso doble and jive--then break each one down into component parts. It is grueling physical work. World-class athleticism shellacked with grace, smiles and sweat.
Usually they count aloud, dancing without music.
Practices at this level are less about learning steps than making the performance sizzle. Each pants out “sorry” when making a misstep as they samba counterclockwise around the room.
They treat each other gently. Criticism and corrections when dancing are proffered as suggestions and ideas.
They also study film of dancers they admire, and each practices alone to perfect the tiniest movements.
In the studio, Neglia even spends hours polishing the way she walks. Keeping both feet in contact with the floor, she caresses the wood with the tips of her toes until one foot slides down in front as she moves in a rumba walk. She does this hour after hour.
More hours are devoted to sharpening the point of her toes.
Salsa is danced with bent knees and loose feet. Latin ballroom, by contrast, requires straight, tall lines. She must point her toes to create an elongated leg line, one that stretches up through the pelvis and supports the lift of her abdomen and back.
Weeks later, apologies during practice are few. They have met the challenge and woven two very different styles into a believable romance.
Neglia is sultry and sinewy, seeming to uncoil more than walk with every step.
Lean, sharp and classical down to his pinky ring, Siddall explodes when he moves. At their best, her dancing contains a promise, his a demand.
Their focus now is on the finer details--the dramatic fling of an arm, a quick caress to finish a move, the desire lingering in their eyes.
“An audience that sees professional Latin dancers in action should always be left wondering if the couple are sleeping together,” Siddall said, affirming his belief in an old dance adage that the man is the frame and the woman is the picture.
Both dance socially only rarely, virtually never with strangers. When you’re part of a dance couple, dancing with a novice can feel like torture, Siddall said. He quickly he takes it back. “No, it’s not torture, but it feels like work.”
The two of them go out together regularly--for drinks at the posh Sky Bar on Sunset Boulevard or out to the Gate in West Hollywood.
In her spare time, Neglia spends hours on the Internet updating her Web site and managing her video business. Working from her Long Beach home, she is a self-described computer geek.
Siddall unwinds by crooning Frank Sinatra and Tony Bennett tunes at least once a week in Southland karaoke clubs.
Neglia works out regularly with weights to stay in shape. Siddall plays a little tennis. She eats three meals daily and never snacks. He stops eating to dance, snacking on chips and chocolate, huge roast beef subs and soda. Still, he is whippet lean.
“I’ve always been like this,” he said, eating a handful of Raisinets one evening while chatting with Neglia at her condo.
Occasionally, to gauge the reception to their work, they unleash their dancing in public, as in a recent occasion at the Mayan nightclub in downtown Los Angeles.
The Mayan, where Neglia has been a teacher for four years, is without doubt, the city’s powerhouse salsa club.
For nine years, the Mayan has been drawing 1,500 dancers on Fridays and Saturdays to revel in its pre-Columbian decor.
The crowd makes room for them. Salseros, who take their dancing very seriously, are torn between ogling Neglia and studying Siddall’s moves. They pay the highest compliment by stopping to watch.
A few weeks later, a truly critical eye scours their dancing for flaws.
Nadia Eftedal, a world-champion Latin ballroom dancer and one of their coaches, sees arms gesturing unnecessarily and steps where there should be none.
She drills the pair beat by beat, measure by measure, step by step.
They start and stop. Again and again, she shows them what she wants.
“I need some sort of reaction,” she tells Siddall, whose face has not reacted to one of Neglia’s moves in a way that satisfies her. “You’re standing there sort of unaffected.”
Neglia is taking too many steps in the cha-cha. Powerful dancing creates tension by containing steps and gestures, Eftedal explains. “What happens is you kind of lose a little bit of attitude.”
Finally, they please her.
“Better, that’s better. That’s it!”
Soon they will know what the dance world thinks of their pairing. With shows, competitions and trials coming up in the next few weeks, they leave the shelter of the studio floor for international scrutiny.
In the flurry of competitions large and small, the duo will be spending weekends in hotels from Tokyo to Toronto, building a reputation as a couple that excels consistently. The first tests will be Friday at the Mayan and Feb. 12 at Los Angeles’ Century Club.
There is a trick to diffusing the pressure: Focus on the joy of dancing.
“The world is full of rules telling you what to do--stop at this light, go at that one. Do this, but don’t do that,” Siddall said. “Only when you’re on the dance floor is there total freedom to do whatever you want.”