by Jisu Sheen The New Haven independent
Julissa Alvarado, a dance lover who recently moved from New York to West Haven, found a new spot to groove at Salsa in Ninth Square, a bimonthly open-to-all dance party at the Orange Street Promenade.
Alvarado’s husband is still back in New York, finishing up his time as a bus driver there. He’s retiring at the end of the year, and Alvarado has already added salsa nights on the list of how they’ll spend those retirement days.
Jane and Patrick Rivers, front, twirling to DJ Christie’s tunes.
Salsa in Ninth Square, which takes place every other Thursday from 6 to 8:30 p.m., gives avid dancers like Alvarado plenty to work with. Just as Burlington Coat Factory sells more than coats and “Bed Bath…” has a “Beyond,” Salsa in Ninth Square is bigger than just salsa.
“Some bachata just to catch your breath,” said DJ Christie Colón, known around the city as DJ Christie, before switching up the genre to a few slower-moving tunes.
The biweekly dance evenings start with an instructional segment from 6 to 6:30 p.m., inviting people of any skill level to hone the chops they need to feel confident on the dance floor.
“Su-zie‑Q,” instructor Quincy Davis recited for guidance as 25 dancers in front of him alternated between their left and right feet. “Sidestep! Right-side turn.”
Davis also teaches at Baile Conmigo. Alvarado was so impressed by his teaching style, she told me she was planning to sign up for his lessons there as well.
Smiles came easily for the crowd. People taught each other new moves like dips, turns, and jumps — occasionally with verbal instruction, much more commonly through immediate practice. It was impossible to stand on the sidelines. Even with my camera and notepad, a little footwork was enough to be invited onto the friendly dance floor again and again. Lack of skill was no barrier.
Friends Steven Urgiles, Omar Radwan, and Jeremy Coleman met at a run club in New Haven a couple months ago and showed up to salsa together Thursday. Urgiles comes to Salsa in Ninth Square every other week, enjoying the mix of new people and familiar faces.
“It’s a great way to relax and unwind with friends, and learn new ways to dance,” said Radwan. “And listen to good music.”
It was Coleman’s first time. “I didn’t know salsa before,” he said. That didn’t stop him from falling gracefully into step with the crowd around him.
“Wherever there’s dancing, I just go,” dancer Anderson Cerda told me after a bit of bachata. DJ Christie put on a familiar tune and we cocked our heads to listen, wondering where we heard it before. “Backstreet Boys,” I said, trying to think of the name of the song.
Cerda Shazam-ed it; it was bachata “I Want It That Way.”
“All right, back to salsa,” DJ Christie called out.
Bad Bunny’s “BAILE INoLVIDABLE” rang out over the speakers, a song off his new album DeBÍ TiRAR MáS FOToS thats pays tribute to Puerto Rican salsa of the old days. Hips tilted to the Suzie Qs Quincy Davis taught just an hour before. Dancers sweated under the setting summer sun, taking frequent breaks on the Orange Street Promenade’s rainbow chairs.
After people settled into the night’s rhythms, DJ Christie stopped giving genre cues and let the music speak for itself. Dancers took a few moments to tune in to the start of each song, hands floating before landing decisively in salsa, bachata or merengue.
DJ Christie put on Mala Fe’s 1999 hit “La Vaca.” Dancers took small, fast steps in sync with Mala Fe’s calls of “La vaca, ¡mu!, la misma vaca, ¡mu!” My dance partner told me about Dominican merengue — and before I knew it, that’s what my feet were doing.
Anderson Cerda: “You’d be surprised how many songs have a bachata version.”
Julissa Alvarado taking a quick rest at her new go-to hangout spot.