 The
Gilded Serpent presents... The New Age Adage for Performing Dancers by Najia June 10, 2003 If you have nothing to say through your dance, do not dance. The byword above refers to performance dance only. Dance in performance is quite different from dance that is done for the purpose of aerobics, exercise, and ritual. A performance dancer usually fears that she is stepping out on quicksand when she takes her first steps toward individualizing her dance style. Yet, individualize it she must-if she is to have any credibility as a performance dancer. In order to make a dance be creditable and worthwhile, it must carry a meaning or message beyond whatever simple body of information that the dancer has gleaned from instructors, videos, workshops, festivals, and concerts by other dancers. A performer is not charismatic without something special to say through the language of body movement that is called dance. Honey,
if you don't got nothin' ta say, Dancing used to have a specific purpose and was used ritualistically for mystical celebrations and worship. It was often used to celebrate joyful or important events. Temple dancers were highly honored. All the folks who could stand on two feet did folk dancing. Village folk commonly used dance and music as a way of speaking to their gods. However, somewhere along the way, dance (and therefore, dancers) became dishonored; perhaps because the message no longer was lofty enough to be considered a prayer or, perhaps because its artistry literally disappeared when attempted by tired, drunken revelers as in the orgies and bacchanals of ancient Rome. Perhaps the fall from grace so long ago is why it is such a touchy subject even today to admit that one is a dancer. Even though all of that is conjecture, I believe that if performers will once again consider the message that they convey through their dance as if it were precious, the dance itself will begin to become a more compelling and meaningful endeavor. If the dancer and her dance are to become anything special for an audience these days, it is imperative that we dancers move beyond the staid and true "steps and movements" that we have been taught. We will need to venture into the murky waters of experimentation with our technique and our stagecraft. The territory of experimentation beckons and is tempting precisely because it is risky and an unknown entity. Risking the unknown, though, is chancy and it is the very same reason that many of us dancers have resorted to reliance upon fixed and rigid choreographies. Apparently many dancers believe that perfectly executed movements and limited spontaneity will ensure their ultimate success as performers. However, choreographed perfection comes with a price that is sometimes simply too high to be paid. Perfection, when defined by a set choreography, is purchased with loss of spontaneity.
I have become convinced that the reason many dancers nearly always choose to dance with live music (rather than strong, beautifully arranged orchestral or authentic ethnic music on a great sound system) is that it represents the infusion of the unknown into their dancing that renders it somewhat out of their control and completely out of their responsibility. They fear the rush of adrenalin that dancing on the edge gives one. By this statement, I mean that they can dance while utilizing and toying with the unexpected without taking the least responsibility for any wrong choices they make on the strength of their one-ness with the music, since they can place the blame for a poor performance at the feet of the musicians or at least share it with them. Many dancers who prefer performing with live music love it because it relieves them of the burden of rehearsing a set choreography. Many are stuck with it, whether good or bad. Nevertheless, they prepare to dance instead with a perfectly executed and preplanned set of movements to which we dancers refer as "combinations".
Good live musicians can create for you an environment that can carry you joyfully along like water over pebbles in a stream even if you have only a limited repertoire. Good music, like a good dance partner, can push and pummel the most resistant body to respond to the playfulness of its themes in spite of almost any other considerations-like rehearsal, lousy technique, stage and costuming problems, etc. "Then what about dancing to recorded music?" you may ask. My answer is that dancing with "canned" music is an even more demanding skill.
Yet,
there is an element that inevitably does change and that
element is the dancer her self. Each
dancer changes from moment to moment, and year to year, depending
upon her state of health, her personal mood, and conditions in
her personal life. Though most performers, myself included, can
be somewhat egotistically involved-still we are among a special
group of people who are known for being sensitive and who often
express the desire to "make a difference" in the atmosphere of
our world with whatever we consider our message. The method through
which we present it is almost-almost irrelevant. If we do not
say "it" through dance, then it could have been, poetry, song,
painting or some other
We struggle to create a perfect role for ourselves that has the ability to touch the mood of others, positively affecting it. Along with that role, dancers have also the burning hope that they can bring an audience to its feet (or at least to the edge of their seats) with the power of the dance's message. So, ask yourself: does your dance have any inner message? What is the goal of your dance? What do you imagine that it will bring to your audience? This is not merely idealism! Without a reason for dancing beyond showing off your six-pack abs and your store-bought hair, why are you going through this entire preparation hubbub? You have spent thousands of dollars on lessons, workshops, costumes, and recordings; yet many belly dancers have never stopped shimmying long enough to question their motives any further than justification through claims that it dancing can be great for one's health, fitness, and general well being. If all that were The Honest Truth, you would have quit dancing the first time you developed spurs on you metatarsals, and pain in your sacroiliac. the first time you cut your foot open on stage or dropped your sword on your big toe.
Many long-time dancers will tell you that they "just love the music, make-up, and costuming associated with dancing". However, I can tell you that I know, from my many years of coaching performers, that music and dressing up as a glamour queen are not the real motivators for the dancers who are star-quality charismatic. I have heard the constant grousing and excuses about how the musicians were dunderheads who could not seem to get it right. I have heard the endless excuses concerning costuming and sound systems. I know these are only excuses because dancers will perform on terrible stages in terribly demeaning circumstances in costumes that are on the verge of disintegration from sweat salts and body oils. Yecch! Some men have told me that dancers are merely exhibitionists who are "looking for a good roll in the hay". (Well, perhaps, in some cases, this has had some elements of truth and has contributed to the dethronement of dance.) However, if that were the absolute and full truth, how could happily married dancers then have any valid "reason" to get up and perform? If sex and dressing up as glamour queen were the whole truth, how would unattractive women ever have the nerve to dance? Something stronger compels them to perform. The compelling truth is: we do not dance just because we are exhibitionists (even though we may be.) and not just because we like the music and the dress up glamour of being on stage.
Many lovely girls take dancing lessons. Many of them even make it through a few special performances.
You are the only one who will ever be empowered to deliver your personal message because you are the one who can determine its nature. Therefore, you need to give it some real meditation long before you are called upon to perform. After all, you believe that it is your gift to the world! Your costume is your ball gown and your music is the carriage in which you ride. Like a modern day Cinderella, what you say and do when you arrive is solely up to you. If you have no message, kindly sit down. Have
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a letter! Ready
for More? 3-2-03 Painting
Dance -Fabulous! 7-24-03 1001
Nights Oslo Belly Dance Festival, The Show May 2 - 4, 2003 by
Lunacia 7-18-03 My
Greek Transformation A Conservative Engineer meets the “Instigator
of Revolutions” by Barbara Grant |
Like
most long-time performers, I have danced with (sometimes in spite
of) my share of inept and sincerely well-meaning musicians during
my on-stage dance career. Never once did I feel that dancing to unfamiliar
arrangements of well known tunes, played by unfamiliar musicians,
made my dance more artistic or meaningful beyond expressing the joy
and challenge of merely being able to do it well (or at all). Dancing
with live music can be an enthralling, engaging, and very perplexing
skill as well as a thrilling challenge-especially when it is bad live
music! It is another story if it is good live music and dancer
has enough personality and spirit to bring more meaning to the presentation
than "a beautiful girl hopping around".
public
presentation just as well. 
However,
very few dancers continue to dance year after year unless they
feel that they give to it as much or more than they receive in
return. So, one of the most important things that you can do for
yourself and your dance is determine whether of not you have something
within yourself that needs dance language. Next you will need to
choose music that will help you say it. Not all musical arrangements
or instruments are appropriate for all dancers. Individual tastes
in music are as varied as are the dancers. When dancers have performed
at local live music event and have come away disappointed in their
music, I think that much of their disappointment is, in reality,
due to over-sized expectations left unfulfilled by the instrumentation,
the arrangement, or in short, that the band is not the 35 piece
orchestra that they heard on the CD. Add a lack of focus upon
and an understanding that the performer herself ought to have something
worthwhile to say, and you have a recipe for a real yawner.
