{"id":4944,"date":"2013-06-10T20:53:26","date_gmt":"2013-06-11T03:53:26","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.gildedserpent.com\/cms\/?p=4944"},"modified":"2013-06-10T21:26:18","modified_gmt":"2013-06-11T04:26:18","slug":"nisaa-20thcentury-bellydance-crossroads","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.gildedserpent.com\/cms\/2013\/06\/10\/nisaa-20thcentury-bellydance-crossroads\/","title":{"rendered":"At the Crossroads"},"content":{"rendered":"

Discovering Professional Belly Dance at the Dawn of the Twentieth Century<\/h2>\n

\"Placeholder\"<\/p>\n

by Heather D. Ward “Nisaa of St. Louis”<\/a>
\n\t\t\t\tposted June 10, 2013<\/span><\/h3>\n

\nThe transition from awalem<\/em> and ghawazee<\/em> dance styles to theatrical raqs sharqi<\/em> began during the last decades of the nineteenth century and the first decades of the twentieth in Egypt. Unfortunately, scant film footage exists of dancers from that period to reveal exactly what professional belly dance looked like during that critical moment in Egyptian dance history. However, still photos and travelers’ descriptions from the time do allow a few conclusions to be drawn about the nature of belly dance in Egypt at this important transition. These primary sources provide invaluable insight into the technique, aesthetic, costuming, and performance format of the dance as it existed at that time.<\/p>\n

The period of interest in this discussion extends from the 1870s through the 1920s.\u00a0 As I have discussed elsewhere, entertainment halls, or salat<\/em>, began to spring up around Cairo’s Ezbekiyah district in the latter half of the nineteenth century, particularly after the completion of the Ezbekiyah Gardens<\/span> in the 1870s (Ward, “From Caf\u00e9 Chantant<\/em> to Casino Opera,” 2013<\/a>).\u00a0 The establishment of these venues provided a new place of employment for Egypt’s professional belly dancers, the awalem<\/em> and ghawazee<\/em>, who were restricted in where they could perform in the Egyptian capital.\u00a0 By the 1890s, Western travelers’ accounts and guidebooks clearly allude to belly dance being performed in the entertainment halls of Ezbekiyah (for example: Baedeker 1898: 24; Reynolds-Ball, Cairo To-Day<\/em>, 1898: 12).\u00a0 Throughout the 1910s and 1920s, the salat<\/em> were a mainstay of Cairo’s popular entertainment scene around Ezbekiyah and Shari’ Emad al Din, and Egyptian dance was one of many forms of entertainment offered on their stages.\u00a0<\/p>\n

In the 1930s, the popular dancers who got their start in the entertainment halls of central Cairo made their way onto the silver screen, providing a clear visual record of what the dance had become, but revealing little about what it had been during those earlier years.<\/p>\n\n\n
\n
\"close-up<\/a><\/h6>\n
Close-up from a postcard postmarked 1905 showing dancers at the sala <\/em>El Dorado in Cairo (the postcard is from my personal collection)
\n Click image for enlargement<\/em><\/h6>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n

The extant film footage of dancers performing Middle Eastern or Middle Eastern-inspired dances at the nineteenth to twentieth century transition consists of a mere handful of films, many of them recorded by Thomas Edison<\/span>. It is peculiar that these dance forms that were such a fixation for European and American observers of the Middle East, would turn up so infrequently in the new medium of motion pictures. Among the Edison films are “Princess Ali”<\/strong>, 1895, “Fatima’s Coochee-Coochee Dance”<\/strong>, 1896, and “Turkish Dance, Ella Lola”, <\/strong>1898. (See Nugent n.d. for an excellent discussion of “Fatima’s Coochee-Coochee Dance”<\/strong>.)\u00a0 In addition to these films, there is footage by the Lumi\u00e8re Brothers<\/strong> that provides a brief glimpse of dancers at the Exposition Universelle of Paris in 1900<\/strong> (Institut National de l’Audiovisuel, 1983<\/em>).\u00a0 Also, there is the American Mutoscope and Biograph Company<\/strong>’s footage of a performer who was known as Princess Rajah<\/strong>, 1904.<\/p>\n

Unfortunately, none of these films portray dancing that is unequivocally Egyptian.\u00a0 Princess Ali’s costuming, movements, and manipulation of scarves suggest that her dance may be Algerian, not Egyptian.\u00a0 Similarly, the dancers in the Lumi\u00e8re film, although wearing costuming similar to that of contemporary Egyptian dancers, showing one of the dancers playing finger cymbals, seem to be performing Algerian dance.\u00a0 The dances of Fatima, Ella Lola, and Princess Rajah all share some basic features of the dancing performed by Egyptian ghawazee<\/em> in the present day (e.g. the Banat Mazin ghawazee<\/em><\/a>) such as stationary and traveling hip shimmies and shoulder shimmies. Further, Fatima and Princess Rajah play finger cymbals during their performances, something that seems to have been a significant feature of Egyptian dance at the time and remains so in the present. (See below.)\u00a0 Yet, both Ella Lola and Princess Rajah were American-born vaudeville performers, and Fatima, whose ethnic origins are unclear, worked as a “cooch dancer” at Coney Island (Carlton, 1994: 62).\u00a0 Thus, although it is probable that these three dancers learned some of their movements from native Egyptian dancers (whether directly or indirectly), it is impossible to know to what degree their dancing is American vaudevillian rather than Egyptian.<\/p>\n

Thus, it is necessary to resort to textual and photographic sources that detail Egyptian dance at its source in Cairo.\u00a0 In spite of the paradoxical dearth of film footage, textual descriptions of Egyptian dancers from this period are abundant and often quite detailed.\u00a0 Further, photographs and picture postcards from the time provide an invaluable record of costuming, stage layouts, etc.<\/p>\n

The following is a vivid description of a visit to the sala<\/em> El Dorado in 1907.\u00a0 This popular Cairo entertainment hall was originally situated off Midan al Khazindar to the northeast of Ezbekiyah Gardens<\/strong>, but sometime around 1880, it moved to a new location on Shari’ Wagh el Birket (today known as Shari’ Naguib el Rihani). (Ward, “The Search for El Dorado\u2026in Cairo”, <\/strong>\u00a02013<\/a>)\u00a0 I have chosen to quote the entire account here, as it provides a useful framework for the remainder of this discussion.<\/p>\n

\n

“In the company of a South African, Mr. Wertheim, and an Englishman, Mr. Bacon, who knows Cairo thoroughly and also the seedy parts, and who wants to be our guide, I’m going tonight to the Eldorado, a local caf\u00e9 concert.<\/em><\/p>\n

In a large room the audience is almost entirely composed of natives, who do not seem to have paid an entry fee exceeding half a piaster; maybe they are let in for free.<\/em><\/p>\n

\n They do not buy drinks; but the institution recovers its expenses nonetheless, thanks to a few women, who go from one table to another and get paid to drink.\u00a0 A Sudanese, not pretty, but with an agreeable figure, sits down at our table.\u00a0 She judges Mr. Wertheim as the most generous of us and gets him to offer her two half-bottles of beer at 10 piastres, and thus we have completed our entry price.\u00a0 This woman is covered with fake coins imitating the Austrian currency, as I bought at Wadi Halfa.<\/em><\/p>\n

\n At the end of the hall is a large stage, occupied by six men and as many women, seated in semi-circle facing the audience.\u00a0 They sing a sad melody, accompanied by a guitar and a tambourine, and intervals of clapping.\u00a0 A woman who resembles La Goulue[1] rises, she is very young, but quite stout.\u00a0 She is dressed in pink, covered with gaudy trinkets, her belly is bare; she produces a variety of movements and tremors, it’s called, as everyone knows, the belly dance.\u00a0 She accompanies herself with two pairs of small cymbals attached to fingers like castanets, and these contortions last a long time; however she pauses to empty a beer that is sent to her by an enthusiastic spectator.<\/em><\/p>\n

\n When she is finished, she comes into the room to “pass the hat” with a small saucer which she places successively on each table and which she leaves there for a few minutes, during which she stands aside discreetly.\u00a0 Most of the natives give a small coin.\u00a0 During this operation, she is tracked and monitored by a fine Egyptian with a great black mustache and a fierce expression, who does not lose sight of her for a moment, nor the money she collects, he is probably her impresario.<\/em><\/p>\n

\n Three tables are now occupied by Europeans; at the table next to ours there is an Englishman, accompanied by a donkey driver and a guide from Shepheard’s Hotel, that I hear say: "You have already spent three pounds tonight, and it is only eleven."<\/em><\/p>\n

\n The same show is repeated every half hour.\u00a0 It is followed by a cinematograph, and starting at one o’clock in the morning, the audience dances.\u00a0 We do not wait for more. The tickets are different prices, depending on how the client is dressed; the cashier judges us to be worth tickets at five piastres per person, but is content to give us a ticket for a single seat for the three of us.”<\/em> (Loewenbach 1908: 219-220, translated by the author, with assistance from Christine Ferhat.)<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

From this account, supplemented by others from roughly the same period, it is possible to draw several conclusions regarding the nature of belly dance on the sala<\/em> stages of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.<\/p>\n

\nTechnique and Aesthetic<\/p>\n

Loewenbach’s account describes a solo performer who rises after a musical interlude, performs the “movements and tremors” of the so-called “belly dance,” and accompanies herself with finger cymbals.\u00a0 Although Loewenbach does not go into much detail regarding the movements themselves, other accounts offer a bit more:<\/p>\n

\n

\n “It was not what I would call dancing at all.\u00a0 She simply walked up and down the stage swaying her body about, the dancing being all from the hips up.” <\/em>\u00a0(South Australian Chronicle<\/strong>, 17 June 1893, 16.)<\/p>\n

\n “\u2026a girl laden with jewels and ropes of pearls on her neck, and in every plait of her hair, twists and twirls about the stage with solemn slow iteration.\u00a0 She has on her hands rough castanets with which she beats the maddening time to a tune so hideous that the European nerves tremble at it. Her feet scarcely seem to move. But the expression comes from the centre of the body, which shakes like jelly.\u00a0 On and on she goes, round and round, perpetually twisting, wagging her body just as some people can wag their noses and their ears, until at last she sinks exhausted on a sofa.” <\/em>(Scott<\/strong>, 1894.)<\/p>\n

\n “The dance du ventre is not a dance in our acceptance of the term at all; it consists of tremblings, wrigglings and jerkings of the lower abdominal muscles, including those of the hips, loins, and back; the dancer in short steps, moves round and round the stage, sometimes back to the audience, in order that she may show, in detail, her movements in as great variety as possible.”<\/em>\u00a0 (Star<\/strong>, Issue 7512, 20 September 1902, 2.)<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

\n Taken together, these accounts permit several conclusions regarding the typical belly dance presented in Cairo’s entertainment halls at the turn of the 20th century:<\/p>\n

    \n
  1. The dance was performed solo (more on this point later).<\/li>\n
  2. The primary movements of the dance were localized in the torso, with minimal footwork.<\/li>\n
  3. The dance was performed to the accompaniment of a takht<\/em>, a traditional ensemble of singers and musicians.<\/li>\n
  4. The dancers sometimes played finger cymbals during their performances.<\/li>\n<\/ol>\n

    The dance being performed in Cairo’s turn-of-the-century entertainment halls does not seem to have differed substantially from that performed by Egypt’s ghawazee<\/em> much earlier in history. Yet, by the 1930s, when belly dance became a common sight in Egyptian films, the dance had incorporated additional footwork and arm positions, seemingly more elaborate than what is described in these earlier accounts, and a “chorus line” of dancers backing up the featured soloist had become commonplace. From at least the 1930s onward, dancers were accompanied by larger and more varied musical ensembles than the small traditional takht<\/em> of their predecessors; the ensembles generally included a mix of traditional and Western instrumentation. Common consensus in today’s belly dance community \u2013 perhaps based on statements by Badia Masabni<\/a><\/span> herself in interviews \u2013 is that Badia Masabni created these innovations in the dance. Film footage from the 1910s and 1920s would be invaluable in settling once and for all to what degree Badia influenced the stylistic development of raqs sharqi<\/em>, since Badia opened her first club in 1926, and dancers were definitely a featured part of entertainment line-ups well before that. Unfortunately, I have not been able to locate footage from this period as of the time of this writing.<\/p>\n

    \n Costuming<\/p>\n\n\n
    \n
    \"Turn<\/h6>\n
    For example, an Underwood and Underwood<\/strong> stereograph clearly illustrates a dancer from Upper Egypt with her midriff bare. \u00a0Though undated, this stereograph must have been produced sometime between 1880 and 1920, when Underwood and Underwood were actively producing stereographs. <\/h6>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n

    Regarding costuming, both Loewenbach and other observers offer useful insights:<\/p>\n

    \n “\u2026a girl laden with jewels and ropes of pearls on her neck, and in every plait of her hair\u2026”<\/em>\u00a0(Scott<\/strong>, 1894.)<\/p>\n

    \n “The dress consists mainly of a rather full silk skirt, with tabs of colored silk; this is held from falling off by a thick band of stuff passing round the hips.\u00a0 A silk or linen skirt <\/em>[Author’s note: this appears to be a typographical error in the original text; I believe the author was referring to the shirt, rather than the skirt.] of very open, lace-like meshes, and an amteree [sic], or short, sleeveless vest, complete the costume.\u00a0 Modern clocked open-work stockings and high-heeled French shoes are worn. A mass of necklaces of real gold coin pendants, each suspended from a tiny braid of hair; lots of bracelets, anklets, armlets, etc., are used by those who are better off.”<\/em> \u00a0(Star<\/strong>, issue 7512, September 20, 1902, 2.)<\/p>\n

    Contemporary postcards clearly corroborate these descriptions.<\/p>\n

    The basic costume described and illustrated here \u2013 skirt, skirt “topper” with long ribbons, sheer chemise, vest, heeled shoes \u2013 seems to have evolved from the earlier costuming of the ghawazee,<\/em> which was itself essentially an elaboration on the everyday garments worn by ordinary women in the privacy of the hareem<\/em>, or women’s quarters, of the home. (See Lane 1836.) Egyptian ghawazee<\/em> in Upper Egypt continued to wear a version of this costuming into the second half of the twentieth century. (See Aisha Ali<\/a><\/strong> and Edwina Nearing<\/a><\/strong>’s work on the Banat Mazin ghawazee.<\/em><\/strong>) <\/p>\n\n\n
    \n
    \"Taheya
    \n Taheya Carioca in Ghafir Al Darak in 1936<\/h6>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n

    One point of particular interest in Loewenbach’s account is the statement that the dancer’s midriff was bare. Does this mean that the dancer’s belly was entirely uncovered, or was she perhaps wearing a sheer mesh chemise that, for a turn-of-the-century European observer, made her belly effectively “bare”?\u00a0 Notably, photographs of dancers wearing the vest without<\/em> a shirt or midriff cover do<\/em> exist from this period.\u00a0 For example, an Underwood and Underwood<\/strong> stereograph clearly illustrates a dancer from Upper Egypt with her midriff bare. (See http:\/\/content.cdlib.org\/ark:\/13030\/kt0r29q906\/?order=2.<\/a>) \u00a0Though undated, this stereograph must have been produced sometime between 1880 and 1920, when Underwood and Underwood were actively producing stereographs. (University of Chicago Library<\/strong>, 2010.)<\/p>\n

    \n Also interesting, are illustrations of Egyptian dancers from the 1889 Exposition Universelle in Paris.<\/strong> (See http:\/\/gallica.bnf.fr\/ark:\/12148\/btv1b7702324n<\/a>. or top of page.) The coin decorations on these dancers’ vests give the impression of a “proto-bedleh<\/em>.”\u00a0 Compare these vests to the top worn by Taheya Carioca<\/span> in the film Ghafir Al Darak<\/em><\/strong> in 1936.\u00a0 The resemblance is unmistakable.<\/p>\n

     <\/p>\n\n\n