Monday, March 16: My own body.
Confession: Today all I wanted was to stay home. The weekend left me exhausted. A full day on Friday of teaching and dress rehearsal, and then a full Saturday... teaching and two performances. I'm exhausted. I can feel illness knocking at my door. So... it is time for self care. To feel healthy, I need solitary quiet time, sleep, and nourishing food. I managed to get some sleep, probably not enough. I am getting solitary time now. My partner made a nourishing meal. To feel full, healthy, and energetic, I tend to turn towards the holistic approach. Food is medicine in our house, and after a healthful meal, I'm starting to feel better. Our apartment is a sanctuary apart from the activity, action, and noise of the world (although our upstairs neighbor seems to be hammering away at something). This space is familiar. The two tabbies are dozing in their favorite spots on the couch, and I'm in my pyjamas. These small comforts, nourish my mind and my body. Later, I will have my nightly mug of tea.
Sunday, March 15: Joffrey Ballet.
Today, my mid-day is spent at Zellerbach Hall, on the UC Berkeley campus. The company is full of bodies at the top of technical form in the ballet mode: lithe, flexible, strong, and conditioned. They are also fully aware of the audience at Zellerbach Hall. The audience is there to be entertained, but also to feel/be part of what they perceive as elite American culture. There is a sense that the dancers are somehow dehumanized by the audience, because the bodies there to be observed and appreciated, but we know nothing about them as people: their personalities, their personal struggles. They are figures molded by choreographers and company directors; they are not presenting their own work. One could switch out a principle dancer for another principle dancer, and the audience might hardly perceive the difference. And yet, they are there by their own agency; these bodies have worked intensely, probably for several decades, to be on that stage, in front of a crowd of thousands, to pursue their calling as dancers. They choose this lifestyle, and as well they should. They have earned this opportunity to tour with a top ballet company, showcasing new choreographies throughout the United States.
Saturday, March 14: Rakkasah West - Performances
Rakkasah West is the longest running bellydance festival in the world. Billed as a "Middle Eastern Dance and Fantasy Festival," it offers an open stage for anyone who can make it through the "Call-in": would-be performers call one phone number, and whoever gets through on the line gets a performance slot. Many of these dancers are amateurs; they also began dance in any form as adults. Backstage, many of the dancers are adults, way into their 40s and 50s. Many of them are slightly overweight, but in defiance of cultural norms, they bare their torsos. They dress in a variety of elaborate costumes, with silks, satins, sequins, and velvets. They paint their faces in ancient Egyptian-inspired style, with long lines from the outside of their eyes to the tops of their cheekbones. They wear sparkling headdresses and curl their hair. The aim here is to feel a sense of glamour; I suspect many of them work unfulfilling dayjobs. Belly dance offers an escape. Only a few seem to feel some connection with the culture from which belly dance comes; an imagined East is the name of the game. Technique, training, conditioning, and professional performance is not the goal for many of these dancers; they want to feel beautiful in a society that tells them every day that they are fat, old, and ugly.
Friday, March 13: Rakkasah West - Workshop
I accompanied my mentor and teacher Suhaila Salimpour to assist at her workshop on Friday morning as part of the Rakkasah West bellydance festival. It is the longest running bellydance festival in the world, yet the economy and the cyclical pattern of trends has meant fewer participants in recent years. The intrepid women (and one male-bodied dancer, probably self-identified as male as well) who come to our 9:30am workshop are mostly older with little intense dance training in any form, Western or not. The youngest is in her late 30s, if that, is a runner, and suffers from patellar tendonitis/IT Band Syndrome. When we ask if anyone has any injuries, the usual ailments surface: lower back, knees, shoulders. All maladies suffered by the contemporary office worker. These participants (other than the runner) have low stamina, and want to have fun... but Suhaila is a task-master, and today she offers a workshop in layering. Layering is the belly dance equivalent of patting your head and rubbing your belly at the same time.
I lead them through a relatively intense warm-up of conditioning and stretching, and they hold their own. Some who know their bodies sit out and observe; I appreciate the care they take in doing so. We ask them to do some very difficult drills: walking on 1-2-3-4 (right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot), while alternating squeezing their glutes on 1 and 3 (right glute, left glute), with alternating torso undulations on 1 and 3. This material is new for many of them, and they are out of their element. And yet, their body language is never defeatist. They persist. Some of them appear to be having fun; many are smiling and eager to learn. They enjoy the challenge. I suspect those who have a good time are excited about the possibilities within their physical forms, and that they can do so much with this meat and bone thing that we call our body. For many participants, not only at this workshop, but bellydancers in general, this dance form offers a means of (re)joining mind and body. It is physical exercise, a way to (re)build self-esteem, a means of finding community with like-minded people, and also a way for them to feel beautiful (whatever that means for them), and a way for them to feel connected with their physical selves. Many of them (re)discover parts of their psyche that they might have pushed aside to take care of families and/or hold down a day job.
Thursday, March 12: Dance in Iran.
Today, Aisan, a 2nd year MFA, spoke at our Dance Cultures class. She presented a history of Persian New Year traditions and rituals, including their Zoroastrian roots. I appreciated that she opened her talk saying that Arabs and Persians are different cultures, even though they use the same alphabet. What was most fascinating, however, is her first-hand experience of being a dancing body in Iran. Dance is illegal in the Islamic Republic. Many dancers run underground, unlawful dance studios, teaching what they can glean from YouTube videos. Injuries are common, because teachers don't have the resources on how to teach mindful and healthy alignment. They see a dancing with 180° turnout and force that in their students without understanding how harmful that can be for most people. In Iran, the body is shameful. The body is policed. Especially female bodies. Women live their lives under the shame of "honor." Virgin brides are considered the best, but any woman with enough money (and it's not much) can have her virginity "restored" by a plastic surgeon. In Iran, the people find ways around the regulation, under the noses of the Islamic police state. The body will always find a way.
Wednesday, March 11: Library bodies.
The Mills College library is a lovely space. A large north-facing window stretches up 2 storeys, and my favorite place to sit is at this window. Around me, however, there is a sensation of stress. It's Midterms. Papers are due. Tests are approaching. Deadlines loom. As we activate our cognitive and mental capacities, we sit still at our books and computers. The bodies I see here are not passive in any way; there is an energy emanating from each of them, even as they sit still. Brows are furrowed, heads crooked forward towards glowing screens. While the major muscles are mostly passive, the brains are working overtime. Bodies in this place, however, are expected to be relatively passive. Libraries are places for sitting, studying, reading. Large movement would be out of place, just as would be loud noises. In this context, nearly stationary bodies are normal, but if we could see the mental activity, it would be an active and noisy place.
Tuesday, March 10: Teaching Class at the Salimpour School.
Every Tuesday night I teach a Level 1 class at the Salimpour School. It's in the Jamila Salimpour Format, the first codified system of belly dance steps ever created. Long story short, many belly dancers use the names that Jamila Salimpour used to describe belly dance movements, without even realizing that Jamila gave those steps those names. The class itself is more like a Level 1.5; we require that students have knowledge in the Suhaila Salimpour format before taking a class in the Jamila format, because there are certain technical elements that we just don't have time to break down in the Jamila classes. The class requires stamina, discipline, and a sense of polyrhythm within the body, as we ask students to also play specific finger cymbal patterns while dancing. At the end of class, I led a structured improvisation with my students. I always sense a feeling of either relief in some students or terror in others when I say we're going to improvise. I put on a slow piece of music, and call out a movement for them to do. They can do it at their own timing, in their own way; the fact that I give them a movement to do helps quell the fear in the terrified ones. As I call out to change from movement to movement, I can see attention spans waxing and waning. I see moments of clarity and moments of ambiguity. These dancers are learning control over their bodies, and not just their bodies, but their rib cage and pelvis: power points in the body. Most of our organs reside in the torso, and being able to manipulate them in time and space, to music, seems to impart a sense of empowerment in my students. I think of the Yogic Chakra system: originating at the base of the spine and tailbone, then to the reproductive organs, the solar plexus, the heart center, the throat, the third eye in the frontal cortex of the brain, the crown of the head through which all dancers lengthen. They start to settle into the exercise. The students explore different ways to vary a movement: levels, energy, facings, timings. When I teach, I always find that belly dance in particular is important for its practitioners because we move body parts that are so close to the center of the body's vital organs. Even if the students themselves are unaware of this, I suspect that's one of the reasons they keep returning.
