The Gilded Serpent presents...
The Critic;
Real Critics Don’t Mince Words
March 3, 2003
by Najia El-Mouzayen

Have you ever thought about political correctness in terms of its impact upon all of the arts, including dance?  What “PC” or political correctness effectively accomplishes is a stifling of recognition of individuality and experimentation.  It essentially shuts down all dialogs concerning artistic judgment, encouragement, or discouragement between an individual and audiences.  Needing to be perceived as correct in one’s expression eliminates recognition of the need for change (Wasn’t that the “mother of invention”?) and that eliminates experimentation and growth.  Political correctness can kill an art, and it well may kill our society as a growing and evolving consumer of art if it continues down its present pathway.  Political correctness marginalizes the performer who stands out in a crowd.  Have you ever watched a troupe dance and noticed that one of the dancers has a certain charismatic draw that pulls your eyes to her like a magnet? Don’t become too attached to her; she will probably not be there in a few months—because the other troupe members will be painfully aware that she has not blended in.  She has not become a good team player.  Yet, it is that great ability to speak to an audience with performance energy that makes a dancer great and an entire art form legitimate. 

So by forcing compliance to political correctness by muzzling criticism and misnaming ourselves a supportive sisterhood of dancers, we cook our own golden goose.

Dance criticism and artistic judgment, applied to the field of Oriental/Belly dance, has become a sensitive subject because Oriental Dance/ Belly Dance, almost more than any other dance form, is a three headed dragon. 

One dragonhead is the professional Belly dancer who actually is professional and behaves like a professional, taking both blows and accolades “like a real man”. 

However, there is a second head to our impassioned dragon: a large body of amateur dancers who aspire to look as if they were professionals and who, more often than not, have not the faintest idea about how or where to begin.

They easily believe their boyfriends (sometimes Arabian men) who tell them that they dance better than any of those dancers overseas who have been dance stars, movie stars, and television actresses for decades! Amateurs who aspire to look professional without paying the toll of public scrutiny become angry with the public (their audience) who criticizes and judges their lack of professional qualities regarding physical appearance, appropriate costuming, and other parameters that are important to audiences.  These wannabes are often student dancers who have danced in a few student recitals, a party here and there and who have accompanied another dancer on her gig as a backup dancer or a second. They may be heard whining constantly that it falls to them to educate the audience, an idea that true professional dancers and other entertainment artists find absolutely repugnant. 

The third dragonhead of the Belly Dance is the true amateur who just dances for fun, who attends all the workshops and shows, and who has no aspirations to dance in public for pay. 

It is the true amateur who thinks of herself as a part of a lovely sisterhood of dancers who simply dance for the joy of it, the inspiration and the sense of well being that Belly Dance imparts to most women who participate.  These true amateurs should not be subject to the judgment of a critic.  They would not be subject to the words of a formal critic except for the unfortunate fact that dedicated amateurs are often convinced by friends and instructors to join a troupe whose members imagine themselves professionals simply because they dance in local haflas and festivals and accompany their leader/instructor on her gigs.  In this way, they dance before the public, paid and yet not professional.

If criticism is unwelcome, then those dancers comprising the sisterhood of dancers should not be dancing in venues where a critic may be called to report upon the event.

 In the Middle East, only stars of Oriental dance who perform in large hotels and governmentally sponsored troupes that are based in a fusion Ballet and Oriental dance actually dance on stages in theaters, and therefore, put the form in front of formal music, art, and dance critics. The rest are folk dancers or social dancers and do not leave themselves exposed to written comments of a critic.

Because most of us are painfully aware of the multi-agenda dancers within our western society, it is nearly impossible to find a knowledgeable dancer who is willing to become a truthful critic when it comes to the subject of Raks Arabi. Very few people are willing to give a realistic perspective on any type of Belly Dance and sign their name to it, for fear of hurting someone’s tender ego.  Though dancers freely express harsh criticisms of dancing performances privately among their cohorts, extremely few of them are confident enough of their knowledge and experience to dare to say (or even imply) in writing, more often than we would wish, our Empress wears no clothes! 

All of this sophism happens under the guise of supporting our amateur dance sisterhood and the general dance community.  Pseudo and misplaced support constrains us, causing us to be carefully observant of the current rules of political correctness.  I hope to encourage you to consider the notion that being politically correct dooms us to be derelict in truthfulness by definition, and therefore, second rate as a dance form. Rather than being supportive of the weak, aspiring dance performer by using politically correct compliments and platitudes, we do her irreparable harm. We harm her by fluffing her ego (not a term I use loosely) concerning her effectiveness as a dancer, and we assist her to sink into a complacency of attitude when she could preferably devote some effort toward improvements in her dance technique or its presentation. 

The forgoing is only the first layer of harm that we do when pampering dancers by couching our criticisms in cautious, acceptable language!  For example, instead of bluntly and clearly drawing attention to a dancer’s lousy centering, awkward pigeon toes, or inept musical interpretations, we PCers present her a feeble comment in a golden bowl, swimming in the milksop of human kindness.  It would be far kinder to let her taste the bitterness of truth as we see it, averting later embarrassment when she sees the videos of her performances. Early confrontation of truth will do much to allay disappointment and confusion over not being hired for coveted gigs. This happens when the performer’s friends have been nothing but positive about lusterless dance performances because they must or because the dancer is a nice person, and we feel that we owe our unconditional support to her flawed efforts.  (That includes the false compliments and effusive adulations of her Arabic boyfriends who know where their own best interests often lie.) 

What is support, after all, but a propping up of something that has unstable strength and inadequate foundation in its own right?

By being a truthful critic, or a dancer who welcomes candid criticism, we may more fully validate the premise that Arabic Dance (Raks Shar’i, or Belly Dance) might possibly be an art on an equal footing with other recognized dance art forms.  Though out-of-shape women can and do dance well as part of the “sisterhood of dancers”; the fact remains that they do not generally appear as the fulfillment of reasonable professional expectations to audiences composed of non-dancers. The longer we Oriental Dancers fool ourselves into believing that the physically unfit and unhealthful body can be the instrument of a professionally performing dancer because we want it to be true, and we wish it to be recognized that “big is beautiful” and/or “gray hair is natural”, etc., the longer we will remain the dance community’s slutty little sister. 

We just can’t have it both ways.  Either we are a sisterhood of ego therapists and our instructors are politically correct in all they say and do—or we are tough artists in search of ways to improve our art form by ruthlessly weeding out the lame from our herd.  (Please don’t bother to write, claiming that we can have a dollop of each and satisfy everybody. Acquiescence and appeasement won’t satisfy anybody, much less, an unsuspecting audience.)

The fact is, that trying to “have it all” for everybody is what has put us where we are today—a bunch of misguided and untrained personal social therapists trying, with varying degrees of success, to educate women to love their bodies “just the way they are” and to dance in spite of some very real shortcomings as they are defined by the judgment of the paying public.

(Not that there is no need for inspirational ego therapy—there is.) 

In all the lip-service I have heard given to standards for professional performers repeatedly throughout many years, and because of our obvious discomfort in discussing the subject, it is extremely rare to hear anyone admit that over-weight and out of condition (and I mean big—really, really, big, not just Middle-Eastern style soft and rounded) dancers run the risk of permanent damage to their arches, their ankles and knees, and their backs. Through teachers’ and troupes’ insisting upon compliance with movements that some bodies are not fit to accommodate, injuries can and do occur.

 If you are an adult who joins a class or a troupe, unless you have been kidnapped or blackmailed to join, you automatically take on the responsibility for your decision concerning what part of the subject being taught is appropriate for your body and what level of performance you can handle. You accept the responsibility for your own personal safety.  A dance teacher teaches dance (not necessarily safe movement --though we try to include as much safety as we are able) and is not a physician or physical therapist. Practicing unsuitable movements while grossly unfit does not produce a fit body and does not constitute an appropriate self-improvement program, even though it might burn calories and give one a happy dose of adrenaline.  Instead, an out-of-shape greenhorn dancer invites Plantar Fascitis, muscle strain, ligament damage, stressed heart, and other related illnesses and injuries, and all of it is self-inflicted.  The student or troupe member cannot change the class or the entertainment world to suit her personal needs; she must adapt and take responsibility or not join in the first place.

We are extremely fortunate that a few accommodating, creative, and caring individuals have invented a concomitant dance form to protect our Pampered Petunias in American Tribal Belly Dance, other troupe genres, and off-shoots of Oriental Dance that are geared toward allowing and encouraging everyone to participate.  However, we are unfortunate that they have also led the public, and worse, each other to believe (falsely) that choreographed troupe dancing and follow-the-leader troupe dancing is automatically professional quality dancing—or even an art—just because it has been costumed and rehearsed.  It is little more than a skill of doing for the joy of doing it.  I would prefer to think of it a social experience employing dance or folk dancing.

Personally, I would rather see or participate in a dance performance done for the sheer inspiration of an audience of strangers that is not comprised of a conflagration of numerous dance students and other troupes.  But, that is just my preference; everyone is free to enjoy whatever Fantasia-like hippopotami and bumbling ballerinas to which they might wish to subject themselves. Even if that is not a nicety for me to write, it is honestly the way I feel after years and years of watching amateur troupes dance and trill for each other over the most banal performances.

I do not advocate that out of shape dancers not dance at all—just that they not perform in public and imagine themselves on a par with professional dancers.

In other words, we have to decide realistically upon which path we have actually embarked before we become hopelessly lost in endless rhetoric and expose ourselves to well-deserved discussions by critics about what does, or does not, place our dance on a par with other dance disciplines.

• You can read a negative comment and find out what went wrong with your intentions. 
• You can build upon that which was successful.
• You can find areas of challenge that you may not have thought about by yourself.
• You have been recognized for your artistic efforts whether the comments are positive or negative, valid or invalid. 

A useful and effective art critic does not need to be able to paint in order to be qualified to observe weakness or strength in drawing techniques or composition (even though he or she may be able). The music critic need not be able to play the violin to observe that your arpeggio was less than breathtaking.  The dance critic has only to be able to observe and comment that your taqasim was coy, dry, or lacking in humor, whatever, etc.  It is ineffective and pathetic and thoroughly unprofessional to become defensive and retaliate against a critic to say, “Well, I bet that critic couldn’t dance any better”, or “That critic is just jealous of my career”. A jealous dance critic would never deign mention you or your career in print (positive or negative) because every mention of your name validates your existence.

A truthful dance critic, who has danced around the block a few years herself, is a friend—not only for you—but a friend of the dance arts. 

Artistic judgment is not to be confused with moralistic judgment.

Some quote the Bible and incorrectly interpret the admonition not to pass judgment upon others.  Often they interpret it to mean a prohibition against ever passing any judgment at all.  Kindly wake up and learn that making judgments is a daily occurrence and necessity for human beings!  We make judgments in sports, and court cases, and we must work to learn how to hone our artistic judgments.  One would be foolish not to learn how to judge what is aesthetically pleasing and why.  The Biblical reference requests that we not pass judgment upon the morals and souls of others but to leave that task for The Divinity.  Therefore, we need not fear, but to develop, artistic judgment—to ground it in firm concepts and experience of that which works and that which doesn’t. 

Additionally, I would like to comment that, as a reviewer or critic, you are useless if your critique is unread because it is dry, analytical and uninteresting.  Without humor, wit, descriptive language, and even sarcasm, only the persons directly involved in the production critiqued will read it, which is counter-productive.  To be a successful critic, one must not only be truthful, balanced, and knowledgeable; one must also be amusing to read, even when totally wrong.  I think it is only fair to mention that critics panned many famous works of art when they first premiered. Nobody died from a negative critical review and many productions were subsequently improved upon because of one (or more). Unfortunately, I believe that because of the current emphasis on political correctness, the Oriental Dance community is not yet mature enough to be comfortable with critical reviews of any kind.  Even positive comments are dissected by the egotistical neediness of our “grand sisterhood” as it currently exists. 

Critical reviews are not meant to become a marketing tool.  When producers of dance and its various dry goods are being touted and promoted for sales, we find that critics are often “bought” with a free video (or whatever) to review and the person who sends it, fully expects that he/she be entitled righteously to a positive review.  That “ you scratch my back, and I’ll scratch yours” philosophy is far from the truth in the real world of arts by reviewers who have integrity. If you send an item to be reviewed, it doesn’t mean that it will be reviewed and it doesn’t mean that it will receive a positive review.  Likewise, just because you have not requested a review does not bar reviewers from writing their opinion of your work.  Also, when a critical reviewer writes up his observations, conclusions, and suggestions it is totally unnecessary for him to preface his commentary with “in my opinion”,  “as I see it”, or any other humble blather.  If he writes it, of course it is his opinion, even if throngs of people hold it also worldwide.

As we Oriental dancers learn to accept specific reporting and artistic judgment beyond the usual “Wow, Golly; that was great!” we can use critical observations and grow from them as dancers.  Critics whose opinions are worth reading are those who include both positive and negative comments and allow the consumer to draw their own conclusions in the end.  They will express areas of satisfaction and of disappointment.  They will report upon the performance as your second set of eyes.  Real critics don’t mince words, and the true professional, even while sometimes cringing, cannot wait to rip open the newspaper or magazine to read that point of view. No matter how bad or good the criticism, we always are thankful when the critic spells our name correctly and includes a compliment here and there. 

The worst form of criticism a professional artist can receive is to find one’s work being ignored.

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The Emperor’s New Clothes by Yasmela/ Shelley Muzzy
Until we see ourselves in the context of a larger society, no one outside of our community will accord us the respect we desire.

Critiquing, the “Agony & The Ecstasy” by Nisima
It’s an unnerving experience to be “critiqued” by your peers, but my personal opinion then and now is that when you perform in public, critiquing just goes with the territory of performing.

More by Najia

1-11-03 Music to My Ears, How I Learned to Hear Like a Dancer
Musical interpretation is the single, most important skill that can elevate the Oriental dancer from the chorus line to the spotlight.

11-21-02 The Great American Belly Dance Veil Routine by Najia El Mouzayen
After having said all that, I must add that American style Oriental/Belly dance is a distinctive style composed of creative elements that are simply outstanding.

10-22-02 A Story Written with Arabic Idioms; Why it is Difficult to Translate Arabic songs into English, Story by Annonymous, Translations and interpretations by Rima El-Mouzayen, Introduction by Najia El-Mouzayen
“just try to read it in English and at the same time, think in Lebanese Arabic…if you can! "

2-23-03 Hawaii Workshop by Latifa
Floor Work is a moving Yoga, and as in Yoga, one must let his/her body grow into more flexibility which develops with practice.

2-14-03 God Belly Danced: Biblical Accounts of Belly Dancing in the Ancient Near East, Part 1 of 3, By Qan-Tuppim
While Yahweh is not female, the man may have given Chavah a name similar to Yahweh because the woman and Yahweh had something vital in common.