Dance Yourself Happy!

The Solace of the Zaar

The Zaar is a community healing ritual of drumming and dancing, primarily involving women and led by women.  It was said to have originated in East Africa and has been practised in Egypt since pre-Islamic times. 

While the oldest academic references to the Egyptian Zaar date back to 1862, archaeological remains show that this type of ritual played in part in the lives of Ancient Egyptians.

Whereas the Tanoura dance is done as a means of connecting with God or a higher being, the aim of the Zaar is to pacify everyday spirits. It also serves to harmonize the inner lives of the participants and provide a space in which women can 'work out the tensions and frustrations of social constraints which limit their movements, their dress, their voices and even their dreams.'  Little wonder that it is viewed with suspicion and even hostility in many quarters.

Because it has a marginal status in Egypt and is part of the underground culture, Zaar music and songs have survived with little interference from outside influences.  The downside is that many of the songs have been lost and at present there are only 25 people in the whole of Egypt who carry its musical legacy.

One of the highlights of our trip to Cairo was a performance of Mazaher, a Zaar ensemble, at the Makan Egyptian Centre for Culture and Art (ECCA).  Crammed into a small, dark room, in close proximity to the singers and musicians, it was a truly unforgettable experience.

Ahlan Wa Sahlan Pt 4 - The Power of Randa, Sufi Spinning and the Closing Gala

At the beginning of the week, we registered and booked the workshops we wanted to do.  It's fortunate that the dollar is so weak against the pound because it certainly didn't come cheap!   Three-hour 'Super master classes' with the likes of Randa, Dina and Soraya were $80, three-hour master classes were $60, and two-hour classes were $40.  Add in the cost of the opening and closing galas and registration, and it's one expensive holiday.

Now that more and more Egyptian teachers are coming to the UK, and there are tailor-made tours such as those organised by Farida Dance, it seems sensible to choose master classes or two-hour classes with the non-Egyptian teachers.  Firstly, there were fewer people so you actually got to learn something, and secondly, the subject matter was often more interesting. 

For example, I really loved the Tanoura workshop I took with Madrid-based teacher, Mohamed El Sayed. He seemed a gentle, joyful kind of person and it was wonderful to work with live music too; he brought along a singer, req, nay and darbuka players.  Mohamed obviously has a big following in Spain and South America as the majority of people in the class were Spanish speakers.  This was a big advantage as he didn't speak any English, and I found his translator's English  far less comprehensible than Mohamed's Spanish, which fortunately I more or less managed to follow.

After getting used to turning by changing direction and varying arm positions, we all got to spin as a group.  Sufis spin only to the left, and this takes some getting used to. Every few minutes there was a dull 'thud' as another person keeled over. 

After the break we got to spin in the big Tanoura and Sufi skirts. They really are magnificent. The Tanoura ones are made for performance, much more colourful and weighted with a thick band of rubber, while the Sufi ones are hemmed with very thick rope. Apparently there is only one person in Egypt who makes them. (I was momentarily tempted to buy one for some home spinning but then remembered the excess bagage we'd already accumulated over the previous few days and thought better of it!)

The music has a haunting, meditative quality with an insistent rhythm that builds up in speed. It's a very special feeling having that weight to ground you when you feel that otherwise you are spinning so fast that you might take off.  I find sitting still to meditate extremely difficult, but spinning is a great way of clearing the mind.

Maja, a Russian-born dancer based in Miami, gave another interesting class in Gypsy Tribal Fusion. I loved the combination of Arabic, Flamenco and Romany Gypsy movements.  At one point she taught us how to use silk fans.  We had to make do with plastic plates, which made me smile until Jo pointed out that it was no more ridiculous than making people put a shoe on their head as a candelabrum substitute (which, yes, I have been known to do).

Having said that I felt I learned more from the non-Egyptian teachers, I really enjoyed the piece of choreography we learned at Randa's masterclass. 

The Ahlan Wa Sahlan Festival Pt 3 - The Magnificence of Mona and Catching up with Keti Sharif

It's curious being here with a VIP.  As organiser of the Bellydance Congress, Jo is very much in demand. Other international teachers, who previously didn't show much interest in the UK scene, are falling over themselves to say 'hello'.  As Jo admits, it makes her life much easier.

I'm enjoying meeting new people - and bumping into dancers I have met at other workshops, such as Bernard from Paris and Raja, from Lille - a truly wonderful dancer, full of passion and flair, who I first met at a Horatio and Beata Intensive and then performed with in a show in Biarritz when a Parisian dancer fell ill.  (My abiding memory is of her stunning finale - and of getting locked out of the theatre with my friend Yvonne during rehearsals and having to scale a wall to get in, only to find that there was no time for me to practise with the orchestra, or even mark through what I was going to do to somebody else's music in front of an audience of 500 people.)

That ranks as one of my scariest experiences, but the masterclass with Mona el Said wasn't far behind. My God, she's the ultimate maa’lima (boss woman). She gave short shrift to anyone wishing to sit down, telling them that they should go back to their room if they were tired, and told the people on the door to shut it in no uncertain terms.

But she danced with such passion that she made me cry.  She doesn’t teach as such, you just follow her dancing to a piece of music, which keeps you on your toes as the choreography changes each time she dances.  She used all the signature moves I have seen in videos of her over the years.  I’m not sure how the younger dancers felt about her, some looked rather bemused. I was interested to see that there were (only!) about 80 students in the workshop, compared with 150 for Soraya and nearly 200 for Randa. But Jo and I agreed that she’s a legend and has to be respected as such.  It was dancers like her and Fifi Abdou that made me fall in love with this dance.

Shimmytime in Paris Pt 1 - Tradition vs Innovation

After a truly transformational workshop with Marianne Williamson, I boarded the Eurostar to Paris for a weekend of performances, workshops and la vie parisienne. (Yes, I realise that this is getting to be a habit.)

When I arrived around 10.30pm, I took the Metro to the Theatre de l' A.S.I.E.M, in a very exclusive area, a stone's throw from the Eiffel Tower.  I was fully expecting everyone to be piling out at the end of the show. But, of course, they were working to Arabic time, so I hadn't missed that much. 

I arrived in time to see a number of soloists performing (not to mention special guests from Cairo, Aida Noor and Tito Saif, but more of that in my next post).  They were gorgeous looking in exquisite cabaret costumes, and danced with great elegance and precision - but they were all dancing oriental or 'raqs sharqi'.  

There was not one baladi or saidi piece.  In fact the only dancer to do something different was Raphaelle Masson (see pic), who did her very original top hat dance. She was wonderful, as always, and her dance seemed to be well-received, but Raphaelle did say that there were the purists there who felt that it shouldn't have been part of the show.

It appears that in Paris soloists really only perform raqs sharqi.  It's seen as 'proper' dancing, in a way that other styles are not. And of course the costuming shows off a good figure to perfection.  But it is only one aspect of a very rich and diverse dance form.

On the way back to her flat, Raphaelle and I discussed the difference between the French and British dance scenes. Raphaelle feels that we Brits are much more open-minded when it comes to this dance.  We like authentic Egyptian dance, but we also enjoy experimenting with different styles and appreciate variety.  Viz the huge interest in burlesque, belly burlesque, arabic fusion etc etc. 

In France, perhaps because there is a much larger Arab community, authenticity is very important. Raphaelle is an exception because while she understands Middle Eastern dance music and the different dance styles better than most, she likes to be innovative and try new things. (The photo above is Raphaelle performing her sublime 'Emma Peel' number.)  That would be applauded in the UK.  But in France, apparently everyone wants to look like an Egyptian. And yet, how can a Westerner doing this dance be truly authentic?

Knocked Out By a Wild Woman!

It's taken me about a week to recover from the excitement of last weekend's Sirocco Festival - which is either a reflection of my advancing years or the fact that I don't get out much! (More likely to be the former as most of my week seems to be spent on the M4.)

The Sirocco is apparently a wind which comes in from the Sahara, bringing warmth to Europe. According to the organiser, Wendy Buonaventura, 'our festival celebrates the meeting of East and West via the inspiration of dance and music'.

Unlike other dance events which focus on mainly Egyptian or Arabic style this was truly a fusion-fest, with classes in everything from Performance & Symbolism, Cuban Egyptian and Arabic Tango to Sufi trance dance, Tribal style and Arab-Flamenco. Because the teachers and performers taking part have a great deal of acting and performance experience, there was a highly theatrical dynamic to the whole event which I found really interesting. With so much emphasis on Egyptian technique in most festivals, it was really refreshing to put that to one side and to 'explore our creative energy and the spirit of dance within'.

No-one epitomised that spirit of creative energy more than Berlin-based Raksan, a true 'warrior woman'...

Warrior Women, She-Devils and the Japanese Goddess of Dance

All these incarnations of women could be found at the Sirocco Dance Festival in Frome this weekend. It was an exhilarating experience and one I will write about at greater length another time. (It's now midnight, I've only just got back, and once I start I'm liable to write for hours.)

Quote of the weekend had to be an excerpt from Wendy Buonaventura's three-woman piece with Caroline Alfifi and Hazel Kayes:

"Arabs say that there are only three insatiable things in the world: The Desert, The Grave - and Woman!"

Ah, what power we have...

Can English Men Dance?

Or perhaps more to the point, would they want to even if they could? 

I've always been disappointed by the fact that dance has little place within our cultural heritage.  Whereas in most other cultures around the world dance plays a key part in every celebration, social gathering and festival, with both men and women participating, it certainly doesn't in ours.  Of course there are folk dances, but they hardly form a part of the average social gathering. 

Greek, Arabic, Turkish, Asian and African men hold their arms aloft and claim their space on the dance floor with pride; the English man will generally lurk by the bar, his pint held to him as protectively as any security blanket. Or if they do venture onto the dance floor it's generally a painful experience for the man and his fellow dancers alike; either lots of drink-fuelled flailing arm movements and a woeful lack of rhythm that makes you want to whip out the strait-jacket, or the kind of uncomfortable twitching that gives the impression he's already wearing one.

But I think there's hope.  With Britain becoming an increasingly multi-cultural society, children are exposed to all sorts of different cultural traditions and styles of music and dance. And the prevalence of dance music and some really great rap artists and male dancers such as Justin Timberlake gives inspiration to a new generation.  The success of sportsmen and other male celebs on 'Strictly Come Dancing' also brings dance to a new audience.

And who knows? Perhaps one day English men may wake up to the fact that for women a man who can dance is the ultimate aphrodisiac!

Does Size Matter?

Last night was spent watching thirteen twenty-stone Russian ballerinas flinging themselves across the stage in a lively parody of Swan Lake. The company of XXL dancers, called The Big Ballet, then treated us to dances with a more contemporary theme; everything from 'Go West' by the Pet Shop Boys to Tom Jones' 'Sex Bomb', with a rather Boney M meets Eurovision final number entitled 'Moscow'. (When I tell you that the meaningful lyrics went along the lines of 'It's a place of mystery, it's so full of history', you get the picture.)

The company was created fourteen years ago by the Russian choreographer, Panfilov, with the aim of showing that 'people of larger build are able to move with similar grace, dignity and flair as traditional dancers' and also to prove that he could create a professional ballet troupe out of dancers with no previous experience. The company hails from Perm, a beautiful city with two million inhabitants in Russia's Ural Mountains which was also the home of Tchaikovsky and Diaghlev.