St. Louis, MO in March!

Did you know that I'll be teaching and performing in St. Louis, MO  - March 4th-6th at Angels and Absinthe? No? Yes? Early-bird registration is this weekend, and other important deadlines coming up!  Don't miss it!

http://angelsabsinthe2011.wordpress.com/

Performer's Top 5 Elements for an Excellent Performance At Any Stage

5. Test-Drive. Always practice-run your costume and double-check pins and closures.  Watch out for hair-catching elements and other potential mishap areas. 

4. Blinded By the Light - stay in the lights, where the audience can see you, your costume, your moves, etc.

3. Breathe.  Before you go out and during - get the oxygen flowing!

2. Engage.  LOOK at your audience, not the ceiling, not the floor, not unfocused somewhere else.

1. HAVE FUN.  As in, look and feel like you are enjoying what you're doing.  I'm not talking about being happy-go-lucky, plastered smile, I'm talking, if you want to perform, then LOOK it.  Cause otherwise, why are you up there?

It's dark in the desert (part 4)

Happy New Year!

So this (possibly) last part of this series, actually started off as the seed for it all, but apparently I had to clear some room before I could get to this point.  And I'm not even sure if I can express in words what I feel in my heart, see in my head, and breathe in my spirit - really, there's a reason why I'm a visual artist and performer - because if I could explain it all plainly, I wouldn't have to paint it or dance it. 

But I will try.

When I look back at the past year, especially the last 6 months, there were a lot of factors all pushing me in the same direction with my dance: a folkloric dance experience of "the other."  What do I mean by "the other"? "The other" is a description of unseen forces at work, in co-existence with the visual, waking world, that while not easily proven, are readily believed by many cultures (if not all).  Deities, ghosts, spirits, demons, angels, djinn - these are all examples generally unseen entities.  Arab culture especially has a rich background involving "the other", especially djinn (not-human spirits) and ancestral spirits.  Even the concepts surrounding both the "evil eye" and the hamsah or Hand of Fatima (prevalent throughout Africa, the Middle and Near East, and the Mediterranean), involve "the other."  And while I consider myself to be a rather rational and skeptically-minded person, I am very familiar with the realm of "the other", dating back to my earliest memories and experiences. 

I think the closer that you actually live with nature (and rely on it), the more likely you are going to be open to "the other."  This is especially evident in tribal/nomadic groups, whose way of living is so closely linked with the seasons, the lay of the land, and the weather.  It's not a matter of categorizing them as "primitive".  It's the reality of removing the layers of modern comfort, the cushions of technology, the atmospheric buzz of media - that you are open to listening to your world without distractions, and you can feel it's pulse.  I'm not being romantic here either.  This pulse involves floods, famine, drought, the trials of life and death.  "The other" helps to provide meaning, exploration, reasoning for what happens, as well as a sense of how to deal with it - both personally and communally.  Just one way that many cultures choose to deal with these forces is through dance - ritual dances, trance dances, celebratory dances.  Through dance, the body and spirit unite to express what words alone cannot.

And all of these things came to mind when talking with a dear friend of mind about her recent experiences in Morocco (and I'll out her if she lets me, but otherwise I'll keep her identity to myself), and she described her trance experience in the desert.  As she talked, in my mind's eye, I could see the night sky open endlessly above me, the night-cool feeling of the sand at my feet, the sound of the music, and the electricity in the air, thick with spirits.  It was like I was there (and one day I hope to be there).  That is an experience with the dark, with "the other", where our sense of physical and metaphysical becomes blur, and we're moved beyond the mundane.  We feel the pulse, we ARE the pulse.

This train of thought is what inspired my "Hecate" piece, as well as "Dance of the Djinn". 

So, when I titled this series "It's dark in the desert" - this is all what I had in mind - and more. 

It's dark in the desert....(part 3)

Ok, so where was I? Oh yes, happy, happy, joy, joy!

Technically this part of the series is about two similar-sounding complaints with a world of difference between them: 


"One cannot express "dark" things through this dance" and "My dance is about joy, it's impossible to bring something "dark" to it."


To quickly address the first issue: Well, if the dancer is supposed to be the music made manifest - i.e., it's our job to be the music, and if the music expresses "dark" sentiments, one could follow the line of logic and say therefore, the dance itself would be "dark."  No? Yes? Of course.

The thing is, what the hell is "dark" anyway?  If you get obsessed about dividing everything into "light" and "dark", you miss the whole picture.  Our experience here on this planet is never simply one or the other, but a collection of mixed emotions and events.  To designate "dark" as all things negative, and "light" as all things positive is far too simplistic.  Not everything "dark" is about anger, angst, sadness, and pain. (And if you haven't noticed, I'm placing "dark" in quotes, because in the way it is referenced in our examples, it has been used to designate "the realm of the other", aka, the marginal. The intentional segregation of something that is not of the world or familiarity of the speaker.  Darkism if you will.  Woohoo! Congrats!  We have a whole new 'ism!) Essentially, what the dark really represents everything foreign to us, mysterious, not easily understood or addressed, things that are arcane, secreted, unclear, and not easily dealt with.

And with that, we'll move on to the second complaint. Look, I want to make it very clear, I'm not dissing anyone who wants to express only joy and happiness in their dance.  More power to you!  Because dance is about expression, and as the performer, you can choose to express whatever you wish.  For some, the dance is their only means of escape for daily life, a place of wonderful fantasy and positive creation - somewhere to get away from a stressful relationship or family situation, a tough job, to forget about pain and illness, a break from mundane troubles.  But if you also look at dance as a way not only to express, but to explore and to heal, to address issues and conquer them, then considering the whole spectrum of emotions and the possibilities they can bring, can be an amazing experience.  It's not easy, and frankly it can be downright scary unlocking those feelings and experiences on stage (performing can be already scary enough right), and I can definitely understand not wanting to go there.  It's not for everyone.  Or maybe it's just not for you right now in your life.  But that doesn't mean no else can do it either.  And it can be very very beautiful and powerful if you give it the chance.

On the flip side of this, there's also a danger in exploring deeper emotions on stage that you haven't had a real connection to, or are afraid to make that connection.  Not so much a personal danger, as a problem in being sincere on stage - it falls flat.  Anger or angsty dance for the sake of being "dark and spooky", rarely translates well, and often comes across as taking yourself way too seriously.  It dangers on audience abuse.  Please don't abuse your audience.  Similarly, not everything has to be performed.  Some things are best explored in the studio or living room, and not brought to the stage.  Dance can most certainly be therapy, but would you really want to make all your sessions with your psychiatrist public?  If you're unsure, ask a friend, your teacher, your partner. 

In the end, I believe that in order to be good dancers, we need to be able to express a wide range of emotions, a breadth of experiences - in order to truly be the music and share that with the audience.  And sometimes you'll be asked to do it just within a single song.  Don't be afraid of the dark. Don't be afraid of the light.  Don't be afraid to dance.

And....

there's a mini-interview with me over at The Belly Whisperer from her "Why Should I Care?" series! Enjoy! Thanks RetroKali!

It's dark in the desert (part 2)

I've heard the complete spectrum of opinions on Gothic Bellydance - from epic poems of love, passion, and personal transformation to editorial passages about how it is an abomination that will lead to the downfall of not only dance, but humanity as a whole.  (I kid you not.)

Somewhere in the middle, the statement arises that "Goth" has nothing to do with Middle Eastern culture/dance - usually with one of the following two angles: that Gothic culture is Western/alien in concept to the Eastern culture, and that bellydance is all about happiness/joy. 

Both of these views not only discredit and gloss over Arabic culture, but the very action and art of dance itself - not to mention, show a shallow understanding of what being Goth is about. And I'll tell you why.


In the past, as a tongue-in-cheek response to that sort of attitude, I have made the observation that you really can't get much more "Goth" than the Ancient Egyptians - can you really think of anyone more fascinated with death and obsessed the afterlife more than them?  (Have I mentioned that I was enthralled by Ancient Egypt from about age 7 onward? So much so I used to be able to read and write hieroglyphics.  My husband and I have a 4 foot tall by 10 foot long papyrus painting of the weighing of the heart scene from the Book of the Dead....in our dining room.)

But being cheeky aside, that thought sequence came back to me when I recently attended the Arab Dance Seminar in NYC.  This particular session was about the depth of the Arabic language, especially concerning understanding the meaning of the lyrics in the context of the culture.  And as we talked about the poetry of the lyrics, the culture from which they were from, who wrote them, who sung them, and how they are expressed with the music, I couldn't help but think "how Goth!" From the frustration of being marginalized in a culture unlike (or that is) your own and the pain/longing of the diaspora condition, to beautiful pain of unrequited/unattainable/secret love.  Of course, we were just sampling a few songs from multiple Arab cultures, but you can't argue that these are happy/light topics, even though some of them sound downright peppy when you hear the music.  And if you study about the people who wrote the lyrics, you will find that most of them were moody, marginalized artists who led difficult lives.

Which brings to mind a passage from Chaim Potok's "Asher Lev" books, where there's a dialogue between two artists about making truly great art (summarized), "Can you think of any great artist who was truly happy?" "Well, Rubens was happy." "And he painted happy paintings. Anyone else besides Rubens?" "Nope." "Because most great art is made through pain and suffering."  The Asher Lev books are about the difficulty of being an artist in orthodox Jewish culture.  That it is not considered an acceptable or respectable occupation. And while I'm sure some people will get huffy about me making the comparison, there is a similar mentality found in Arabic culture (which is NOT surprising considering the similar backgrounds and thousands of years of co-existence, so get over it).  Any dancer who has done even a little bit of research will know that dancers, musicians, singers - while enjoyed by most of the community, they are still often looked down upon.  They are marginalized.

So you may be saying OK, but what does that have to do with Goths?  Well if you unburden yourself of the wrist-slashing, devil-worshippin', pastey white and dyed black stereotype for a few moments (or preferably forever), really what is at the heart of the Gothic culture is a love of the arts, the ability to see beauty in the tragic and the macabre, and a sense of being marginalized for not fitting within society's norms.  And you may also be surprised to find that although the movement may have started in "the West" the people who make up the Gothic subculture are not from one place or race, but they are found throughout the world, on every continent.  It is a microcosm that occurs within many macrocosms. What I am saying is that there is a mutual understanding here of the human condition from a dramatic perspective. 

Further proof of this understanding is that there are numerous Gothic musicians/bands who not only incorporate Arabic instruments, maqams, vocals - but are Arabic/Middle Eastern themselves.  If the roots behind these fusions were so discordant, it would not have been possible to successfully weave them together - as they have been, for decades.  And with the music, comes the dancing.

Next up, happy happy joy joy and dance...

It's dark in the desert....(part 1?)

This is probably going to be an ongoing series and exploration....

I have a confession to make.  I am absolutely obsessed with North African dance and music.  I cannot get enough of it.  When I'm doing it, I feel like YES! THIS IS WHAT IT IS ALL ABOUT! (And while I had been introduced to bits and pieces of it over the years from many different instructors, it was Amel who really helped me come to this realization, but that will be for another post...)



But inquiring minds ask, what does that have to do with Gothic or Dark Bellydance?  I think the inquiring are often so busy looking at the labels and the surface conditions that they rarely look below the surface and the stereotypes.  I don't work from the outside in, I work from the inside out. In all things.  Nor am I one to play the who's the darkest, ookiest, spookiest biatch on the block, because I just don't own that much make-up (nor do I give a rat's patootie).  ;)

But sometimes I forget that I'm weird - as in, I'm a bit odd, especially in how I think.  Recent case in point: I was selling my wares at the alumni holiday sale for RISD (Rhode Island School of Design), and we all know that art students are pretty weird/out there kind of people. (And if you don't know this, you should.)  And I'm looking at my fellow alums' work, and I'm gauging customers' reactions, and I sort of slipped out of my head for a moment to see how other people view what was in my booth.

In between an "upcycle" clothing booth and raku pottery is a rack of corseted items, a pile of darkly-colored lush ruffle things, dramatic looking hooded scarves on 20's looking heads, an array of jewelry featuring animal skulls and imagery, and flowers with eyeballs in them.  And owls.  Folks, this is some seriously weird shit going on.  MY seriously weird shit.  In a room full of artsy crazy people, I was still pretty far out there.  But I'm so immersed in what I consider normal for me, I never even think about "pushing buttons", "shock factor", or "edgey" - cause weird IS my mundane.  It's THAT intrinsic for me. 

So, what does that say?  That pretty much everything I do, comes through my own weird filter.  Whether that makes it "dark", "Gothic" or any other adjective, isn't really the point.  The point is, it comes sincerely from my heart and soul.  As it should!

So, there's the first (part 1) factor to consider.  What's going on inside the individual.  Part 2, I'd like to talk about culture and dark tendencies.