November 2003 Archives
[First Written 2/4/2002 -- Commentary at the end.]
If I was teaching full-time, I'd try to put a picture of Shakira on every poster I put up.
I mean, let's look around, folks. There's a bleedin' raqs dancer on the Billboard Top Ten! "Belly Dancers" are now on MTV (when the bother to show videos...) Kids, Teen, coming into classes to learn to dance like Shakira or Brittany! Free freakin' PR!
And what have I seen as our overall response? "Eh. Shakira's good. Brittany's a slut. Whatever. I can't be associated with them."
What-freakin'-ever.
Sure, there's an argument against jumping on the fad bandwagon. Some of the crap we went through in the 80's could be associated with being labeled a "fad". At the same time, there's a depth to raqs now, in the 21th Century, that was (from the accounts I've heard/read) lacking 30+ years ago. It's time to pounce on the mainstream, folks!
And we have ways now, ways that were lacking only a handful of years ago. We have people, like Shakira, who can speak directly to the youth of America, the youth that is all-important to the future of this dance. We have the ability to teach what they only know a little of, and teach it well. We have the ability to teach people like Brittany the real soul of raqs, to help her develop skills she might not even know she has.
But we risk frittering it all away, by hiding in the little cubbyhole we've carved out for our dance. By snubbing people who might want to learn more from us, we show ourselves to be less. Is there risk here? Of course. But we risk just getting into our bedlah. We risk the laughter of friends and family. And, to me, the risk here, that we'll get passed by, is no worse than those, and may, just may, change that laughter to admiration.
I shall never live down " What-freakin'-ever". Even if it's a slag-off. Why is this true? Why does the entire community slag off anyone who's picking up the raqs vibe? Why do we spend more time making fun of folks who know no better, as opposed to education? Part of it, I believe these days, is that education is hard. It takes a community devoted to the task, which isn't likely to come from the scattered remnants of the "bellydance" world. Few dancers have the time, or the energy, to look at such "big picture" efforts, and when they do, it's a small piece of a bigger picture. There's no Clay Shirkey to promote articles like "A Group Is Its Own Worst Enemy " -- the kind of articles that make you dig deep into the collective assumptions of the sub-culture. We need that rich culture, the people who can ask people to think outside the box. Here's an idea, a place to start. We won't escape the disdain of the mainstream until we escape the assumptions of ingrained Orentalism. And these assumptions are ingrained on the part of both the Western and Middle Eastern dancers. And worse, we think they are not just the best way to be, but the only way this dance can exist.
I shall never live down " What-freakin'-ever". Even if it's a slag-off. Why is this true? Why does the entire community slag off anyone who's picking up the raqs vibe? Why do we spend more time making fun of folks who know no better, as opposed to education? Part of it, I believe these days, is that education is hard. It takes a community devoted to the task, which isn't likely to come from the scattered remnants of the "bellydance" world. Few dancers have the time, or the energy, to look at such "big picture" efforts, and when they do, it's a small piece of a bigger picture. There's no Clay Shirkey to promote articles like "A Group Is Its Own Worst Enemy " -- the kind of articles that make you dig deep into the collective assumptions of the sub-culture. We need that rich culture, the people who can ask people to think outside the box. Here's an idea, a place to start. We won't escape the disdain of the mainstream until we escape the assumptions of ingrained Orentalism. And these assumptions are ingrained on the part of both the Western and Middle Eastern dancers. And worse, we think they are not just the best way to be, but the only way this dance can exist.
Thanks to a posting on bhuz.com, I've started editing the entries on raks, and raks-related stuff, for Wikipedia, a free-as-in-speech online encyclopedia of some size.
The primary entry is, for now, "Belly Dance", but I plan to make that an off-shoot of "raks", so that all the various forms of belly dance that have been created can, simply, branch off of that name, since it's the progenitor name...
In deference to those who feel pretty strongly about it, I've made it "raqs" on there, as opposed to "raks". We'll see if this one goes over OK.
I'm also re-posting my original entries here, for the historical record. The first, for "Belly dance", follows.
belly dance is a name for one variation on raqs, a style of dance developed in the Middle East and other Arabic-influenced areas. Known in it's native tongue as raqs shaquri (translation is "Oriental Dance", or, really, "Dance of the East"), the phrase "belly dance" is utilized now as the best-known name in the West for this form. The creation of the term is generally credited to Sol Bloom, the promoter of the World's Fair that saw the first raqs dancers in America. Related Topics * dance * raqs * raqs shaquri
[First Written 2/4/2002 -- Commentary at the end.]
So what is it about sex that makes some people want to drown our dance in it?
Oh, make no doubt -- I have no problem with dancers being sensual, sexy, or whatever, so long as they are "real". I'll even go so far as to say it's a false dichotomy between sensuous and sexy, that the subtle elements that some people tend to attribute to "sensuous" can equally apply to "sexy" as well.
But some people go even father than that.
Some folks have seemingly taken, deep into their heart, the concept that this dance is inherently sexual. They see the hipwork, and the bras and flimsy skirts, add 2 + 2 and come up with -3. "We're sexy!", they shout from the rooftops! "We're all about sex, and you old-fogies who deny it, you're just fools!"
Well. Kids today. Of course we're sexy. Anybody dancing can be seen as sexy. But, then, so can a girl or guy with a tight butt in jeans walking down the street. The question is, is there something about raqs that makes it sexy aside form the viewer's viewpoint? If you boil it down to its essence, is there still a strong sexual element?
Well, no. And the best example is the fact that, in the Middle East, everyone in a family dances raqs, if that family dances. Young and old, men and women. Sometimes separate, sometimes together. Now, you can argue for ignorance on the part of all these families as to it's so-called "true nature", and you won't get very far. Rather, see that it's a family thing -- that joy, not sex, is being expressed here. See the context of the original raqs, the wedding parties and the like, and you'll see where the fundamental nature lies.
Our core isn't just in the nightclubs, where the dance was polished and presented to Westerners, technique layered upon technique, and sequined up to pull in the male tourist trade. No, it's with the people of the Middle East, the people who still get up and "kick it" raqs-style to this day. In their homes, in the lives, this dance reflects just a little bit of all they go through, and their hopes for the future. Rather than trap our concept of raqs into one little emotional box, we must spread of presentation to encompass all the emotions. This dance we love deserves that much, at least.
This was the beginning. Something that, in retrospect, wasn't at all cutting-edge. In fact, you can kind of feel the banality pouring off of it. My point is solid, however; we raks dancers are blessed with a wide variety of material, ideas, and concepts to steal from. It's a shame that we keep forgetting that we can take it to the clubs, and show out, and have fun with it. That every dance floor can be a hofla floor, if we so wish it. In that act, we see one way to break into the mainstream. Oh, and the title is not a play on a certain HBO series. Rather, a play on my own marital status, as it informs my viewpoint on these matters. Being the token male belly dancer menas I have a million stories...
This was the beginning. Something that, in retrospect, wasn't at all cutting-edge. In fact, you can kind of feel the banality pouring off of it. My point is solid, however; we raks dancers are blessed with a wide variety of material, ideas, and concepts to steal from. It's a shame that we keep forgetting that we can take it to the clubs, and show out, and have fun with it. That every dance floor can be a hofla floor, if we so wish it. In that act, we see one way to break into the mainstream. Oh, and the title is not a play on a certain HBO series. Rather, a play on my own marital status, as it informs my viewpoint on these matters. Being the token male belly dancer menas I have a million stories...
Well, it's about time.
Back in Jan. of 2002, I was kindly asked by the publisher of a new dance magazine, VEILED IMPRESSIONS, to write a series of columns. Topic: Whatever the Hell I wanted to write about, just so long as it dealt with dance.
It was an honor, and one I abused to the limit. I refused to write about dancing, or dance, or about me as a dancer. Instead, I wrote about what I saw of dance in society, in business, in history. I was already working with friends who were challenging preconceptions, and I tried to extend that to the work in the column.
And sometimes, I just made crap up.
Said magazine has, sadly, gone out of business. That's part of the reason this weblog exists, to continue that tradition. Not that I've done well of it, of late, so you'll get the kick of reading Woodrow, circa 2002, soon. I'll add commentary to bring it up to date, so think of this as the DVD version, but cheaper.
