Conversation 7: Ally, Owner of Morgan's Vintage Dance Hall and Coffee Lounge, No. 18, CT9 1DH

A backdrop enrapture

“The chandeliers were the first thing to go in, and everyone could see them from outside, they were like ‘Oh, it must be amazing in there’, and I was like ‘God - the rest of the place is still in chaos.’” The chandeliered opulence of Ally’s sea-facing vintage dance hall and coffee lounge wasn’t a fully-fledged lie to passers-by. It was a glinting, chinking promise. Promise fulfilled, we sat in her completed renovation on velvet-clad, black wrought iron chairs. Decadent in mahogany and original tiled mirrors, this was the coffee lounge: “I couldn’t believe they’d boarded it all up with ply, I peeled it back and was just like this is going to be amazing.” Just under a year on from her starting point it was vastly different from the ‘chaos’ in which she’d forged her vision. 10 o’clock, and the place was populous with warm warbles of music alongside the spurts and snorts of her brass coffee machine. The floor above, where the chandeliers hang, gave space for three legging clad dancers to kick their whirls out to sea. I had passed them on the stairs down to the coffee lounge. They were unrehearsed, finding their feet, so to speak. There was no doubt that the backdrop enraptured the scene, light poured its way in and made a silhouette of their movement. Hanging crystals from the chandeliers chinked glints across the floor: a daylight disco ball. In spite of its looming presence, when inside, ‘outside’ retained its status: an autonomous symphony. 

A day light discoball

Ally’s love of dancing shimmered throughout our conversation. Trained by Wayne McGregor, she saw the value of dance within her East London community from the age of 12: “It was all inclusive, and I think that’s the biggest thing, you didn’t have to dance, you didn’t have to have technique – you could do anything!” Ally beamed, the potential to move in any which way you fancied occupied her. She folded her body downwards, touching her toes, letting the parts each determine their respective routes: “The amount of dances that I’ve choreographed that are just like that… dance is movement at the end of the day.” That dance can be done by anyone is manifest in the diverse programme that Morgan’s has on offer. Live jazz on Wednesdays has seen toe taps from all kinds of resolute ‘two-left-footers’. Ally’s two sons and daughter, aged 9, 5 and 4, have learnt to lindy hop, along with many other young children who rush to Morgan’s for dancing and a hot chocolate after school. She spoke fondly of Leon and Emma, who lead Argentine Tango lessons: “They put everyone at ease”, she said. In front of the spanning sky, she had watched nervous beginners transform into confident movers under their instruction. Then there’s ‘Rocket Rod’, another dance teacher, “I couldn’t even hazard a guess at how old he is – but the energy and passion he’s got – he grew up with dancing, but it wasn’t lessons – it was just part of his life.”  Her list of credits went on, and on, and feature at the close of this conversation as testament to the many hands that have helped Ally realise her vision. She spoke with such affection of everyone who had ‘tripped the sunset fantastic’ at Morgan’s. For those that hadn’t, her drive to inclusivity reigned: “Some people might absolutely hate dancing, but they might love watching it […] I’ve had a lot of older people say, “I can’t dance anymore, but I want to come along, have my cream tea and watch the dancing."”  

The entrance to reclaimed resplendence 

Reinvigorating the social aspect of dancing was something that gained significance for Ally when she was offered the chance to work on a set of ‘Iris’ in 2002, a film about the life of novelist Iris Murdoch. “It was set in the 50s which was incredible, we were in this big manor house and we got dressed up in the 50s gear and they had live music […] it was just recreating this real …” Her reminiscence tapered in wistful appreciation of the scene. Ally had seen, lived and breathed the nostalgia that ‘old time entertainment’ had the capacity to evoke. It was this that she wanted to bring to Margate when she left London in 2005. Enthused by the prospect of the Turner Contemporary and the ‘kiss me quick’ seaside feel that Margate was famed for she began to seek a space for her vision: “I just loved it, absolutely loved it, it was waiting for someone to sort of invest, and I thought, oh if I won the lottery, I’d just buy all these buildings.” Between then and now Ally had three children and scoped numerous structures. She has yet to win the lottery. Appreciative of all of the buildings she saw for their architectural potential, none of them quite offered the unique combination of space that she needed: a bar, a space for dance and a coffee lounge. It had to be social: “its that social thing […] rather than it being shut away in a church hall somewhere…” At 18 Marine Drive, Ally found it. It was a frantic and all-encompassing love affair that saw her sell her house, invest everything she owned and move her family in four days before Christmas 2012.

A lottery's love affair

As the soft patter went on upstairs, downstairs, where we sat, remained empty of people. Since moving in, Ally has been spinning multiple plates. Four school runs interrupt her day, there are classes to teach, menus to devise, events to promote and the business needs to take flight. She is rife with ideas and energy for her sea-facing dance hall but there was an understated acknowledgement that we were still very much at the beginning of her journey. “I feel like I’ve caught you on the brink of something…” “On the edge?”, Ally interjected. We laughed. The impending second school run of the day at the forefront of both of our minds - Ally would soon have to dash off.  “No, no, not the edge. I mean on the brink of what you want it to be.” The sea-view that Ally had exchanged everything for often stood as the great conductor to her trade. Ally admitted that recurrent grisly, grey winter days often deadened the coffee lounge. As for the dancing, her glow gave me no hesitation that the show will go on against the backdrop of all uncertain, cloudy and sun highlighted skies. Morgan's is, undoubtedly, beautifully and artfully poised upon the precipice.

Sun highlights

18 Marine Drive has become home for Ally and her family. When I asked to see more of Morgan's, the pre-dance hall in its ‘chaos’, Ally flicked through numerous photos. Not only was there a snap of a Victorian bathtub in the space that the 3 dancers now twisted and twirled but we also happened on a more exclusive collection. Facing seawards has incited a new kind of observatory habit in Ally, she is Margate's secret spy. “Oh, so is this the view?” I said. “That lady – she was writing […] ramblings, it’s all writing that she’s just spent hours and hours – ‘books, British guns, love’ – its madness”. We were looking at a snapshot that saw a woman who had traced words in the sand. She’d afforded it a momentary new texture before the sea had swathed her markings: a great erasure. Margate’s changes were spotlighted, a man walking his dog and taking photographs appeared in the viewfinder, then a group of boys who were choreographing flips and jumps between the walls. “I was trying to capture them in the air but it didn’t quite happen”, Ally said. She was enthused by their will to make movement: “They just do it – they just make it up as they go along, which I love!” From the top floor flat, Ally’s snaps provided a magnifying glass to that which otherwise would have gone unrecorded. One of the most beautiful of her collection had seen her balance on the roof, it spanned the clock tower, Dreamland’s empty site, over to the train station. We had skipped over a view that cannot be seen when you’re standing on the ground; “I didn’t realise how green it was around there either – just behind it – it’s all green!”

"Oh, so this is the view?"

Ally, from her lofty vantage point, had told me an unheard part of Margate’s tale. As our conversation came to a close, she talked about the importance of exposure to new experiences. Morgan’s is certainly the provider of this; whether it be its view, a chance to dance or tap a foot out of tune there is an experience to be had. Her mantra came to the fore as we discussed the story-telling workshops she runs for children. “There’s a beautiful, beautiful story that I read to the kids, and it’s called ‘Giraffe’s Can’t Dance’ – shall I show it to you?” she beamed, and went to a cupboard returning with a beautifully illustrated children’s book. It was a tale about Gerald a tall giraffe who cannot dance and is bullied out of the jungle by his more nimble companions: "“The lions danced the tango, which was elegant and bold […] and the rhinos Rock 'n' Rolled!"” She read. The long and the short of it is that Gerald, having left for the shame of his inelegance, finds a cricket in the clearing who tells him how to find his own rhythm. As we turned the pages, Gerald’s illustrated limbs made new shapes upon the paper, his hooves were animated in their shuffle, Ally couldn’t resist but read the cricket's instruction aloud: “"So listen to the swaying grass, listen to the trees, to me the sweetest music is the branches in the breeze. So imagine that the moon is playing just for you. Everything makes music if you really want it to."" She went on; ""With that the cricket smiled and picked up his violin, and Gerald felt his body doing the most amazing thing…"” Gerald, the giraffe back-flipped and pirouetted and twirled around the paper. "“I’m dancing, I’m dancing, Gerald cried!”" Ally looked up exuberantly. It was, for her, the essence of what she was trying to create on Margate’s seafront. A notion that anyone, any stature, any ability can make movement in some shape or form: “You don’t have to be able to dance, you find your own music – your own rhythm.” With that Ally and I finished the dregs of our coffees. It was the perfect place to end. 

Changeable rhythms and a great conductor

As we rose, the sky and a sliver of the sea spanned before us, Ally looked up and over at the window, her ground-floor frame: “Are they funeral horses? Ah – we had horses out here the other day actually but that was for a wedding again – they’d obviously picked up the bride…” She was observing Margate’s changeable rhythm. Outside drew us into its symphony, Ally wasn’t just seeing but listening too; clip clop of passing horses and the hush and rush of seaside speak: ‘everything makes music, if you really want it to.’ The dance hall warbled on in the background. The view it affords its movers really does speak for itself.

Distinct skies, magnified by spying eyes

 CREDITS & further excerpts from conversation

An applause is due for those that make Morgan’s possible on Margate’s seafront:

Sarah Walker

“Sarah has such a way with the children, everyone adores her”, Ally appraised warmly.

Steven Ford

“Steven recently choreographed a quickstep to an electro-swing soundtrack. It was so fast and brilliant, I wanted to join in straight away!” Ally said, adding to her list of thanks.

Ash Mukherji

Of Strictly Come Dancing fame, Ally was endless in her praise and thanks for Ash’s support and his talent for Bollywood dancing.

Matt, the General Manager

Often mistaken for Ally’s husband as they spend so much time together, Matt can be found behind the bar, taking to the dance floor is not his main occupation.

Aly’s husband

To whom, a standing ovation is due. Ally admitted that he is the great man behind her aspirations.

All of the other staff received praise and mentions. Ally was relentless in her appreciation for those around her.

To trip the light fantastic at Morgan’s, you can find them via one of two entrances, either on the seafront at 18 Marine Drive, Margate, Kent, CT9 1DH or via the High Street at 46 High Street, Margate, Kent CT9 1DS.

 

For even the most committed of dancer-phobes, the coffee machine that chortles and chuckles in the Coffee Lounge is a spectacle worth visiting for...

For more information visit the website: www.morgansmargate.co.uk