Roll
I used to belly dance. Nothing serious, but I got pretty good in a pleasing-myself, can-do-bellyrolls, sort of way. First classes got me through my last year of nursing school with my back in better shape rather than in misery. Performed a couple of times, once to the TMBG version of Istanbul (Not Constantinople), fast and flirty, got a laugh and applause, satisfied my residual urge to ever be on stage again. I don't like choreography for this kind of dance, it always feels stilted, the energy sucked out of the exuberant joy that is the heart of this improvisational, skilled, folk dance.
And that is what more advanced belly dance classes are about, turning us into performers, a troupe, with set choreographed steps. Which bores and annoys me. If enough people could simply gather to dance once or twice a month, dress up, shake it good, I would so be there. Let the kids run around, let drummers come and play, no competition, just dancing the sweat up. A few open dances at the end of a series of performances, well, it's something, and I was very grateful.
I need to be in better shape, but I still outdanced most of the students at the end. Not showy, just uninhibited and in time to the beat.
The best troupe there seemed to have the same idea, with a lead dancer starting a pattern, and the rest following along - more or less, synchronizing creatively. The gorgeously decorated, but modest costumes, highlighted their movements, with unusual, energetic music underlining. Engaging, funny, the kind of dancing that completely silences my inner critic.
The two drunk boyfriends, who wound up at our table, of a couple of the dancers (who left them to sit with the other dancers) were wads. Early twenty-somethings who seemed to think their interest in me, asking probing questions, offering me their every passing thought, was a generous gift. Gah. Even pointedly ignoring them did no good, and eventually D and I, and N who later drummed - and who invited us - and who apparently has frat-guy-attractant karma, moved all the way to the other side of the restaurant to get away from the entitled little dicks. On my own, I'd have quashed them much sooner, but with a group of three, it is more cumbersome. Still, I console myself that they had crappy girlfriends who brought them, then abandoned them. And that the restaurant made some money off their drinking, as did the dancers. They were throwing out $5s like they were beads at Mardi Gras. They tried to grab N's drum, with an offer to "jam", which did not go down well. N's not a small guy, and perfectly capable of defending himself. He did, with definite gentleness.
Speaking of whom, it's always great to see a friend distinguish himself. He announced the drumming, encouraging dancers to get up, in a clear, audible, amusing and commanding manner. He took center stage with an aplomb that seemed for a moment out of place from the person I know day to day, but then I realized how appropriate, yes, of course. He is an amazing person, and any woman who can't see that certainly doesn't deserve him. Hopefully, soon, a great woman, with an open heart and clear eyes spots him. He's hoping for a belly dancer.
And that is what more advanced belly dance classes are about, turning us into performers, a troupe, with set choreographed steps. Which bores and annoys me. If enough people could simply gather to dance once or twice a month, dress up, shake it good, I would so be there. Let the kids run around, let drummers come and play, no competition, just dancing the sweat up. A few open dances at the end of a series of performances, well, it's something, and I was very grateful.
I need to be in better shape, but I still outdanced most of the students at the end. Not showy, just uninhibited and in time to the beat.
The best troupe there seemed to have the same idea, with a lead dancer starting a pattern, and the rest following along - more or less, synchronizing creatively. The gorgeously decorated, but modest costumes, highlighted their movements, with unusual, energetic music underlining. Engaging, funny, the kind of dancing that completely silences my inner critic.
The two drunk boyfriends, who wound up at our table, of a couple of the dancers (who left them to sit with the other dancers) were wads. Early twenty-somethings who seemed to think their interest in me, asking probing questions, offering me their every passing thought, was a generous gift. Gah. Even pointedly ignoring them did no good, and eventually D and I, and N who later drummed - and who invited us - and who apparently has frat-guy-attractant karma, moved all the way to the other side of the restaurant to get away from the entitled little dicks. On my own, I'd have quashed them much sooner, but with a group of three, it is more cumbersome. Still, I console myself that they had crappy girlfriends who brought them, then abandoned them. And that the restaurant made some money off their drinking, as did the dancers. They were throwing out $5s like they were beads at Mardi Gras. They tried to grab N's drum, with an offer to "jam", which did not go down well. N's not a small guy, and perfectly capable of defending himself. He did, with definite gentleness.
Speaking of whom, it's always great to see a friend distinguish himself. He announced the drumming, encouraging dancers to get up, in a clear, audible, amusing and commanding manner. He took center stage with an aplomb that seemed for a moment out of place from the person I know day to day, but then I realized how appropriate, yes, of course. He is an amazing person, and any woman who can't see that certainly doesn't deserve him. Hopefully, soon, a great woman, with an open heart and clear eyes spots him. He's hoping for a belly dancer.
Posted by Zhoen on Sunday, August 31, 2008
7 comments:
(o) Yes, we need dances like that.
I stopped going to my beginners/intermediate belly-dancing class when it became an ongoing practice for a performance most of the students were doing. I'd started the class (and had re-enrolled repeatedly) because it was FUN, not because I wanted to repeat specific segments of choreography to get them "right" in front of an audience. That wasn't what I'd signed up for.
My favorite experience with that class, though, was one time we went to watch a live show that had an open dance time between sets, where they'd play music & anyone could dance. It was entirely free-form: just lots of women dancing spontaneously in circles in long skirts & coin-scarves. I wish I had more opportunities for that kind of dancing. The "I'm dancing; watch me" kind doesn't interest me as much.
Lorianne,
Exactly.
Yes, I went to classes for a year and then stopped when 'the routines' started. The fun went out of it.
You never forget the moved though.
Hard to start semi-regular halfas here. For every one person that just wants to open dance (the oldest form), there's ten or more that want to perform. Seriously, the teachers are just giving the students what they think they want. Oh well.
Oh, and getting a trained set of drummers that can handle that workload is hard. I can do it, but it is very, very hard to get drummers that will commit to practice and technique that will allow them to perform at the level needed. I'd do it, but why?
Oh, and that wasn't me. My evil twin is filling in this weekend.
put him on one side for me...I have a belly...and I can dance
Rosie,
nd is N, FYI.
nd,
Your evil twin and you are both great guys.
Why? Because there would be an admission fee to pay for the space and the drummers, drummers might get dates out of it, and it's fun, but you know all this. Sheesh.
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