Tag Archives: dancer

Never Miss a Chance to Dance! Linda Knight Seccaspina

Never Miss a Chance to Dance! Linda Knight Seccaspina

Linda Knight Seccaspina 1968 and Saul Cohen working at Place Bonaventure from-Ramblings of a Rebel with a Cause!

Never Miss a Chance to Dance!

No one in this world wanted to take over tap dancer Ann Miller’s job more than I did. After 70 long years of random attempts, all that remains is a pair of silver tap shoes tucked away in a cupboard long forgotten. I used to wear them on a day to day basis for many years as I always believed one should be on call if someone had the odd tap dancing job. In life I have always winged it: life, eyeliner, just everything.

As a child my mother told my father that I had natural rhythm and would probably belong to a professional dance troupe. Actually, what she really wanted me to be was one of the dancers on American Bandstand, but I had other goals in mind. When I was eight I wanted to fluff out my tutu and be the Sugar Plum Fairy so badly that I accidentally bumped the reigning fairy off the stage during practice. Seeing the stage was a foot off the ground, she was luckily not hurt, and I was to remain a Waltzing Flower forever.

At 17 I had my first “break”. I became one of the regular “crowd” dancers on a Montreal based TV show called “Like Young”. Every Saturday afternoon I lined up outside CFCF-TV sporting my grandmother’s orthopedic brown lace up shoes, ready to dance. Those borrowed shoes were just super for dancing and they looked fabulous with my floor dusting Le Chateau gabardine pants. I was nothing but double-trouble on the dance floor.

After the show was over we would all head downtown and refresh our spirits at the Honey Dew restaurant on Saint Catherine Street. One giant glass of Honey Dew along with a hot dog and then it was off to Place Du Soul. It was the “all ages” place to be, that was right across from the Greyhound Bus Station in case you had to leave town quickly. Each week I resumed my Sugar Plum Fairy dreams of long ago– only this time it was for the coveted title of go-go cage dancer. The elevated cages were about twenty stairs up a shaky ladder and it became a weekly goal to try and fight the others to be queen of the dancing soul-castle.

One weekend James Brown was the headlining act and even though I had issues with vertigo I decided I was finally going to be dancing in that cage that evening.  As I stood in line waiting my turn I told several people that the lead singer Bruce from “Les Sultans” was soon to be coming in the front door.

“Les Sultans” were the French Canadian version of the Beatles in those days, and I tell you that line stopped being a line in about two seconds flat. Smiling a very large sinister smile I climbed those twenty stairs wearing a short print mini dress, white boots and a huge white bow on top of my head. I never looked down once and realized quickly there was no lady-like way to climb that ladder without flashing my underpants. Remember, there is always a wee bit of insanity in dancing that does everybody a great deal of good.

James started to sing, “I Feel Good,” and it couldn’t have been a better song. I stayed up in the cage as long as I could and danced my boots off. Others got tired of me hogging the limelight and tried to climb up and get rid of me. I threw my boots down one at a time.  Last song, bootless, and eyeliner running down my face James threw me a kiss in the air and sang “I Got You”. I would never live my mother’s dream of being one of Dick Clark’s dancers, but finally, I was the Sugar Plum Fairy of Soul and covered in a “Cold Sweat”!
Life may not be the party we hoped for, but while we’re here, we should dance. When you are sixty and still dancing, you become something of a curiosity. If you hit seventy and you can still get a foot off the ground, you’re phenomenal. Now, with a cane, dancing can be difficult, but I still dance like nobody’s watching. Because, in reality, they aren’t watching you. That’s because they are all too busy checking their phones. Why be moody, when you can shake your booty!

The Fred Astaire of Carleton Place — John Stanzel

The Fred Astaire of Carleton Place — John Stanzel


In 1929, young John Stanzel began tap lessons in Carleton Place after he learned to jig from his father Fred. Stanzel was born in our fair town on May 1, 1923. Despite taunts from the neighbourhood kids, who called him Shirley Temple, he paid for his lessons delivering newspapers. His father was also a caller for square dancing at functions such as our local fireman’s ball. His Dad worked at odd jobs, and his mother, Elizabeth, ran a fast-food counter. John’s brother, and one of his sisters, died when they were teenagers, and both his parents had passed away by the time he was 18 years old.

When John was 7 his father sent him for tap dance lessons with Eileen Snowdon. Lessons were 25 cents and when he had the money he would get his lessons, and when he didn’t, he still got them. There wasn’t much you could do as a tap dancer in Carleton Place, so he made his move to Ottawa.

When he lived in Ottawa he worked as a civil servant and later he gave tap lessons in his spare time. John also began a small tap dance studio and did character roles with Nesta Toumine’s Classical Ballet Company. He appeared and assisted in the 1968 production of Maggie Flynn on Broadway starring Shirley Jones and Jack Cassidy. The Carleton Place native taught tap dancing at Les Ballet Jazz to classes of over 250 people. Monique Leyrac, the famous actress and singer from Quebec was a special student of his. In 1978 he toured Europe with Les Grands Ballets Canadiens.


The dancer, choreographer and teacher was a founding member of what is now Les Grands Ballets Canadiens de Montreal and worked extensively with Les Ballets Jazz de Montreal. Despite his longstanding connection as a character dancer with ballet and jazz companies, he considered himself to be first and foremost a tap dancer.
“He was a consummate actor/dancer,” longtime friend Brydon Paige said, “closer in style to the elegance of Fred Astaire than to the athletic style of Gene Kelly.”


                                                        (John-gray beard and hair next to girl with white socks)

He attributed his huge success to watching Fred Astaire movies on the family couch in Carleton Place. “I could have watched movies all day long”, he said. When Stanzel suffered a stroke in 1983, his friends looked after him and bought a house in Carlton Place so that he could recuperate in his hometown.

He died in 2003 at the age of 80. Someone who has been long overlooked from the town of Carleton Place.

Clipped from The Ottawa Journal,  12 Aug 1971, Thu,  Page 29