As it says in the flyer, "A folkdance weekend should be inexpensive, nonpolitical, noncompetitive, lots of dancing, and just plain FUN." That's basically it. The goal is to make a fun weekend, with top-rate dancing, without it costing you a lot of money. Think about this for a minute: for what you spend at many dance weekends or dance camps, you could go to the Bahamas, the Caribbean, a mountain cottage - including travel, food and lodging for the weekend. The whole works. So if I'm going to charge you the same amount of money, I'd darned well better be prepared to give you the same quality weekend. Playshop is held at a camp (not a hotel) in an effort to keep prices down. Compare the facilities at Spring Mountain with any of the other camps and Spring Mountain wins. (There's only one dance camp which has a better dance floor: Blue Star.) Compare the food and Spring Mountain wins by a lot. When you pay hundreds of dollars for a dance camp (or even when you pay less), you shouldn't have to put up with lousy conditions. And you should never, ever have to put up with rudeness or the "I've got your money so I don't care anymore" bad attitude. You'll notice that the Playshop flyer is written with a sense of humor. This stuff is supposed to be fun, you're supposed to enjoy it. Don't accept less.
Compare dance programs, Playshop kicks. Many markidim (folkdance DJs) play only dances they like personally. I'll play anything. (And I don't even have to know the dance - a limitation you can actually run into elsewhere! True, there aren't many I don't know, but I'm happy to tell you that I don't know it and will play it anyway.) I dance a lot. I go to all the workshops. (Not literally, but most.) I go to other people's sessions. I go because I love to dance, but also to keep up on what's being taught, what's being danced. And I make it a point to have all the music - including the special recording you like. My dance program philosophy is to play what you want me to play, what you ask me to play, and what you would have asked if you'd remembered to mention it. And I play dances because you like them and because they're good, not because they're made by so-and-so or his cousin. Don't ever ask me "Why don't you play more of Rashi Cohen's dances?". I play dances, not people. My expertise as a markid is why other workshops bring me in to do their programs.
Compare sound systems. I think it's unforgiveable to go to a dance session or entire weekend and have to listen to bad sound. I've had to leave places because it was so bad it hurt. My sound system (which, again, I bring to other workshops) is all professional grade. People ask me for recommendations, and I see people who've been at my sessions using the same stuff at theirs afterwards. And knowing how to use it helps. I can't stand waiting around for several minutes between songs while the markid cues up the next dance, or has to unplug this to plug in that, or is just hanging around talking. I'm using a computerized system for running the sessions which gives me all kinds of advantages over any other kind of system. Again, when you're paying to go away for the weekend, you should get professional treatment. Make sure every dance camp you go to knows that you expect it.
A number of years ago I was at a workshop (to remain nameless) where the attitude was "Sure we'll take more people. There's no room for them to dance, no room for them to learn, but there's room for their checks in my bank account, so come on in!". One afternoon a bunch of us were sitting around bemoaning the overcrowded conditions and someone said, "This would be a much nicer place if there were only half the number of people." Then some added, " ... and if we could pick which half!" Now, this isn't possible (or nice, or wise), but the idea of having a weekend which was more like a big dance party than a workshop was developing. Flashback: when I lived in Atlanta I used to go to Spring Fling, an International dance weekend in Tennessee where the organizer (Bernard Kamens by name) brought a sound system and his records (this was a while ago), encouraged others to bring their records, and started the night off by playing a song. When it was over, anyone could take that record off and put on whatever they wanted as the next song. It went on like this all night, last one out turn out the lights and close the door. Back to the present: take the idea of a dance-only weekend, add an environment that encourages nice people and good dancers to come, and voila! you've got Playshop. Someone who was working summers at Camp Arthur-Reeta near Philadelphia suggested we do it there, liked the no-teaching concept, and said, "It's not a workshop, it's a Playshop!" And that's where the name comes from.
Syl Avner does the registration and much of the administrative and paper work. Mike Dennis is the director of the camp and is in charge of the facilities and menu. (Mike's not technically part of the Playshop staff, but he's a nice guy and I'm hoping that if I write him up we'll get him to dance with us!). Ken Avner - that's me, and these are all my opinions on this page, by the way. I do the sound, the dance programs, the flyers, the organization (such as it is), and anything else I forgot to mention here. Daphne Levin was the one who came up with the name Playshop. In case you're wondering or didn't know, Syl's my mom.