How Does Donald O Connor Influence Jazz Dance

The moniker, Song and Dance Man, has been bestowed on many esteemed performers, but no one is more deserving of the title than Donald David Dixon Ronald O’Connor. In his long career spanning his entire 78 years (1925-2003), Donald O’Connor was a paramount athletic tap jazz dancer in addition to his talents as a singer, actor and comedian. Surprisingly, he had no formal dance lessons. He lived his life as a performer who learned by watching, applying and hard work. Uncovering his story and watching his performances begs some natural questions such as, what background and influences fostered his dance style and molded him into the lifelong entertainer he became? Furthermore, how did Donald O’Connor become the quintessential song and dance man

who evolved and progressed so as to never lose his audience appeal? What made him so charismatic and loveable? The research and journey into understanding his life as a dancer has been remarkably informative and would benefit any dancer, especially one who sings and acts as well.
Understanding Donald O’Connor as a dancer requires a foray into a limited history of jazz dance.

The history of jazz dance (and music) is sometimes displayed in a tree metaphor where many branches make it complex. In the online magazine, Dance Studio Life, Tom Rabalate explores what makes up jazz dance. He explains that Jack Cole, who many consider the Father of Theatrical Jazz, calls it, urban folk dance. Jazz comes from the vernacular of the past and present. It’s part of the popular culture of the times. In the 1920s and 30s jazz dance was linked to the popular dances of the time such as the Charleston or the Lindy Hop. ( ) Until the 1950s jazz dance was synonymous with tap dancing, but the history goes back even

further.
“Even as far back as the mid-19th century, the terms “show dance” and “jazz dance”
were connected. Show dance combined the early influence of clustered tap sounds and
larger-than-life movements of the legs, arms, and torso. Its choreography, from minstrel
shows to vaudeville, displayed a high level of showmanship.” ( )
Donald O’Connor could manage any style in the evolution of tap. He grew up and into it as his career progressed. His early days of buck and wing tap with its loud, bright style fit right into the flashy Vaudeville performances. Later, he learned to soft shoe and sand dance with a smoother, understated more sophisticated presentation. By the 1930s and 40s when ballet was integrated into tap and it further evolved into jazz interpretive and modern dance with jumps, spins, and grace, O’Connor could and would integrate the changes over time in his own unique self-taught manner. Above all, no matter what the dance style, he was a consummate entertainer.
He lived his entire life as a performer. Rusty E. Frank, dancer and historian, interviewed O’Connor where he declared that at three days old, he was lying on a piano bench on stage where his mother, recovering from his birth, was playing piano. By thirteen months of age he was earning $25 “dancing” the Black Bottom and faking acrobatic tricks. (Frank 146 ) In his most notable movie, Singing in the Rain with Gene Kelly and Debbie Reynolds, O’Connor sparkled in Make ‘Em Laugh, where he deftly combined singing, acrobatics, comedy and dance in one of the most renowned dance pieces of all time. At age 70, his last movie was Out to Sea, though he steadily worked through 1998, a few years before his death. Throughout his life he performed in Vaudeville, on Broadway, and in film and television, with more than 65 movie, 22 television and 15 stage credits, all the while preserving his undeniable core dance spirit. ( )
It’s difficult to separate who O’Connor was as a person from who is was as a dancer. The setting and family in which Donald O’Connor was born in 1925 became the foundation of who is as a dancer. His parents were circus performers that graduated to Vaudeville. His father, John Edward O’Connor was an Irish dancer-comedian and an acrobat/strong man for Ringling Brothers. His mother, Effie Irene Crane O’Connor walked the tightrope, danced, and rode bareback. Donald was the youngest of seven children, three of whom died in infancy. All four children (Donald, his two brothers and a sister) were initiated into the O’Connor Family who were known as “The Royal Family of Vaudeville.” The act included singing, dancing, comedy, acrobatics and barrel jumping. When he was just over a year, he and his sister were in a hit and run car accident, his sister died. His father passed away on stage a few months later. His mother kept the act together adding other extended family members who continued their traditions, with dance, focused primarily on tap. Donald and the family did all the dance crazes of the time as he honed his acrobatic and tap skills throughout the Vaudeville circuits. He did Buck and Wing tap until he was twelve with a set routine that prompted applause. He tapped danced throughout the 1930s learning from other acts and dancers such as the Nicholas Brothers and Bill Robinson whom he formed a friendship and hung out with in Harlem. The expectations for performers of that time were that you had to be a triple threat - sing, dance, act and even tell jokes to be outstanding and remain employed. You learned an act and stuck with it. For Donald, this background created some future dance difficulties.
He was discovered and made the transition to movies in a 1937 in a movie called Melody for Two, doing a specialty dance with his brothers Jack and Billy. Paramount signed him a year later. He worked in movies cast as a young boy, but as he aged, he could no longer play that part, so he wasn’t cast much. He left Paramount and continue to work in the family act from 1939-1942 (Hill Parrish 18 ) Signing with Universal Studios, he came into contact with other great dancers and choreographers in Hollywood. This was challenging because O’Connor couldn’t learn the steps well or quickly. He wasn’t trained that way. He learned by watching and making dance his own. Choreographer Louis Dapron said he was hopeless. And Johnny Boyle said he was unteachable! But he had something the technical dancers didn’t – charisma and an open honesty in his dancing. He kept getting better roles and increased opportunities to dance. Finally, when he began working with Bob Alton and Gene Kelly at MGM, he began to learn to dance as what O’Connor calls a “total dancer,” with his whole body, upper and lower, arms, hands, torso and legs (Frank 144-152). From this point on his dancing grew exponentially to new heights as a jazz dancer who tied in his background of acrobatics, tap and comedy. He was now not only a tap hoofer but a full-fledged jazz dancer.
Describing Donald O’Connor’s dancing helps to illustrate why is he is an important jazz dance artist. He brought more to his performances than skilled dancing with his light acrobatic leaps and turns, straddle rolls and tuck jumps. Every artist interprets jazz dance in his or her own way. O’Connor’s way was fun and energetic with great body control and incredible balance. He was a musical performer that made his dances look effortless while he defied gravity. His family background in circus acrobatics and tap came to fruition in his dance style. One can’t talk about O’Connor’s dance without mentioning his incredibly skilled and energetic improvised performance in Make ‘Em Laugh from Singing in the Rain. He acts, while singing and dancing in a frenetically controlled way. It’s full of pratfalls, vaudevillesque comedy, and acrobatic stunts that culminate with him walking up walls and doing backflips. Due to an unfortunate filming mishap this piece had to be redone. It was so physically demanding that O’Connor needed three days of bedrest to recover. This picture deservedly earned him the 1953 Golden Globe Award for Best Motion Picture Actor in a Musical/Comedy. ( ) A later, 1966 film clip of him in the Bell Telephone Hour episode with the Nicholas Brothers displays the culmination of years of dance in a vaudeville inspired routine. They trade off riffs, slides, shuffles, fan kicks and barrel turns in unison and echoing each other in the tradition of the earlier tap dance competitions. They use three simple white pedestals to increase and decrease the height levels and at one point to imitate Russian dance kicks that add to the visual complexity. These are just a couple of examples of his numerous film clips available to view that shows his amazing versatility.
In examining so many of his dance performances, there is more offered than just technical skill.

His dancing is refreshingly youthful, fanciful and spritely. He connects and charms audiences with his straightforward and sincere performance. His commitment to his craft which combines acrobatic stunts and humor coupled with his tap dancing prowess touches the hearts of the audience. His charisma is featured by his warm smile coupled with his showmanship which makes him a loveable artist. Donald O’Connor is a singer, actor and jazz dance legend with an artistic dedication to his craft still has much to offer to dancers of

today.
Jazz dance can be viewed in many different ways. Donald O’Connor shows dancers to embrace their own interpretations and strengths while continuing to grow as artists and dancers. He didn’t give up when confronted with those more “schooled” or technically advanced in areas such as learning dance steps and routines. What could’ve have been a major deficit, he turned into an asset becoming an improvisational genius. With no formal dance lessons, he outperformed many great dancers in showmanship and audience appeal.
Donald O’Connor has brought joy to others as a jazz dancer. He was a multi-faceted artist comfortable with comedy, drama or music. His hard work, dedication and perseverance culminated in effortless looking performances. His dance was energetic and pliable, like it had a life of its own. (Parrish ). He was an improvisational dancer extraordinaire. O’Connor describes himself, "I'm the guy who danced through life. It seems that no matter what I do, if I did MacBeth, they'd want me to do eight bars of "Tea For Two" just because it pleases. It's the kind of dancing I do - jumping around and having a good time. It's happy, gay, and pleasant. Dancing is so wonderful. Once they start the music, your whole day, if it's been rotten, seems to melt away. You get carried away in the tune that you're moving to. It's a marvelous catharsis ... to be able to get on top and tap dance."( ) He can certainly be called a lifelong Song and Dance man. He reflected about his life, "I was born and raised to entertain other people. I've heard laughter and applause and known a lot of sorrow. Everything about me is based on show business. I think is will bring me happiness. I hope so." No one could deny, he certainly brought happiness to others.