There is an old A-frame chapel down East Center Street, Provo, just below the castle amphitheater.
Once a month, its doors are all propped open to let light, music and laughter leak from the busy interior. A sweaty youth will occasionally stumble out into the cool evening air to catch their breath before the band starts back up, beckoning them in to join the dancing again.
Mark and Jeanette Geslison are the power couple of BYU folk dance and music: Jeanette Geslison is the artistic director of the BYU International Folk Dance Ensemble, while Mark Geslison directs BYU Mountain Strings.
The two began running barn dances in 2004, when a family out in Mapleton wanted to host dancing in the barn on their property. Though the location has long since changed, the barn dances have continued on a nearly monthly basis for more than 20 years — and show no sign of slowing down.
“We don't have a certain week of the month that we always have them, mostly because our schedules vary so much with our performances and my work that I'm involved with,” Jeanette Geslison said. “We have to consistently be planning ahead to make sure that we arrange a date for the following few months.”
When they have decided on a date, Mark Geslison creates a poster for the event and uploads it to their Instagram, Utah Valley Barn Dance.
“I always joke about the fire code. I'll say, ‘I hope we break the fire code tonight.’ I don't really hope that,” Mark Geslison said. “It's just my hope that a lot of people will come and have fun, because it's such a good experience.”
Though they have yet to break the fire code, the barn dances are well-attended. By the end of the night, there are often so many people that circle dances have to be split into two, and the lines for contra dances bunch up toward the bottom of each set.
“I just love to see people come together and be able to enjoy holding hands in a circle and dancing together. It's one of those things that we don't see a lot of in everyday life,” Jeanette Geslison said. “It's really fun for me to see how that can uplift people and unify people, even with many that may not know the people they're dancing with.”
Samuel Craven, a Ph.D. student studying electrical and computer engineering at BYU, enjoys attending the dances when he can.
“You get really young people, you get older people. You sort of get everybody around,” Craven said. “Just dancing in a big circle with everybody, young and old, is like the most unga bunga, caveman-collective experience of civilization ever. I love it, bro. I feel so connected to the community and the people around me.”
The barn dances always have a caller to teach people the steps and answer questions. Often, Jeanette Geslison acts as the caller, but sometimes they bring in a guest instructor to teach different styles of dance.
“It's kind of a level playing field, because nobody really knows how to do everything, and everybody's learning the dances at the same time … if you go country swing dancing, there's this barrier to entry, where you have to know all this stuff — and same with other kinds of dancing,” Craven said. “(This is) dancing in a way that strips down a lot of divisions that I think can exist and make it hard to feel comfortable in normal dancing situations.”
The simple steps of the dances allow for personalization; some dancers skip and spin in double time while less spry dancers walk carefully, but they all step to the beat of the same drum — or, rather, the same cajon. Folk instruments like the cajon, mandolin, accordion, banjo, fiddle and guitar are all common parts of the monthly barn dances.
“We live in a technological world where if somebody wants to do a barn dance, they don't have to have live music,” Mark Geslison said. “We could just make it really easy and use our phone and plug it into a speaker, but we're trying to keep (barn dancing) alive in a more nostalgic sense, to represent what people did much more frequently in past centuries.”
Musicians come to the barn dances half an hour early to get set up with the mics. Mark Geslison prints out the chords for common folk tunes and works with the band on which songs to play for each dance. On months he can’t make it, he’ll ask Lindsay Davis to take his place and “liaison with the band.”
Davis is a fiddler and works as adjunct faculty director of the BYU American Folk Ensemble.
“From a musician's perspective, it's a fun way to get involved in something that helps make sense of the music you're playing,” Davis said. “You hear all these tunes and then see them paired with dancing, it kind of is like the completing puzzle piece of the why, and purpose behind the songs.”
As a teacher, Davis said she appreciates the experience-building aspect of playing for dancers and learning to pick up new music.
“Unless you're in some sort of band setting, it's hard to find a jam session, or for people to all know the same (songs),” Davis said. “These provide a natural setting for people to play music that’s less organized, in a sense, where it's just coming together for a common fun evening and playing together.”
The band and “barn” are open to musicians and dancers of various skill levels.
“I recommend it to people literally all the time. Like, every time there is one, I post (the flyer) in my work group chat or whatever,” Craven said. “Every time I’ve had somebody come to one, they’re like, ‘That was awesome’ … the success rate of it is phenomenal. I love the barn dances.”
Some people come alone to the dances, some bring dates, some bring the whole family — kids and grandparents included.
“I really love to see the community come together,” Mark Geslison said. “There are a lot of people that I think are looking for something wholesome and social, and this is something that a large group of people really like to do.”
Mark Geslison said he hopes someone will keep the ball rolling if he and Jeanette Geslison ever step back, but for now, they plan to continue.