Leopold couple still dancing with the stars

Andrew Mathieson
“WE’VE been living off dancing all this time,” cries a reflective Marjorie Kavanagh, sitting inside nostalgic Ashby Hall, a scene of many big dance nights.
In this case, “living off” literally means earning a living for Geelong’s most recognisable ballroom dancing couple.
Surrounded by endless memories from the converted inner-city church, the Kavanaghs have taught thousands of Geelong students over 38 years to rise and fall or to glide like a feather across the floor.
“When you walk in here,” says husband Graham, looking around the walls, “it’s a whole different world.”
Marjorie nods.
“You don’t have time to think of anything else but your dancing.”
Before their teaching days Marjorie and Graham waltzed their way to Australian professional dance championships in 1967 and 1968 during an unbeaten reign.
So dedicated were they lunchtimes were spent driving to Herne Hill’s Methodist church hall to train for an hour daily before eating lunch on the way back to work.
“We’re still undefeated because nobody beat us since – that’s when we retired,” Marjorie smiles.
Dancing has been their life but their life hasn’t been just dancing.
Marjorie keeps herself busy with a passion for embroidery. Graham once flirted with a picture-framing business and, at 72, occasionally still dabbles in the skills as a hobby between dance teaching.
“I was having back trouble,” Graham recalls, “and we decided we had to do something to ease the strain.
“The amazing thing is as soon as we got into the picture framing the back got better and I was dancing again.”
The Leopold couple, married for 45 years, were dating when they knocked back several social invitations because both couldn’t dance. The Kavanaghs learned how to pivot and heel turn at a dance school in McCann Street now part of Geelong’s Market Square site.
The turning point for them came after a study tour to the UK with Helen Richey – the Dancing with the Stars judge – and her husband, Robert, to learn from the world ballroom champions. While the Richeys danced their way to top-three spots at the world championships, their adversaries thrived on teaching rather than performing.
“We studied daily for three months and that was absolutely invaluable,” Marjorie says.
“You know, I never wanted to go back to competing then because we just knew where we were going.”
After their return, the local parish priest asked them if they would hold Sunday night dances at Ashby Hall. They agreed and 180 enthusiastic teenagers turned up.
“It feels like everyone in Geelong at sometime has been in this hall with us,” Graham laughs. It even got to the point where the Palais was hired for 700 ballroom dancers at a time to meet demand.
Back then it cost 30 cents for admission.
Times have changed – now participants need $8 for a class.
Ballroom dancing was about the artistry of the moves rather than the athleticism and fitness, Marjorie says.
“Our dancing was more classical but we were certainly not as fit as the kids of today,” she explains.
“And they’re younger, too. To be a champion then you were 30 to 35 but now you’re 18 or 19.”
The passion is still there but the husband-and -wife team is finally slowing up somewhat, teaching just four nights a week rather every night.
“We don’t want to retire just yet,” 68-year-old Marjorie says before Graham interrupts: “At the same time, we don’t want to die on the dance floor.”
Contemplating the thought, Marjorie shakes her head and presents a different view.
“I don’t know. I’d be happy to die on the dance floor rather than from some horrible disease,” she admits.