December 2006 Archives
Of all the days to pass away...
I used to refer, only half-jokingly, to my dance performances as "Drawing Down James Brown". I can't say he was a direct influence -- I never set out to "move the crowd" like I do, much less to continue to do so, show after show -- but...
...it wasn't just the talent, hard-washed as it was. And it sure as hell wasn't his abusive nature. It was the way he so relentlessly attacked the understructures of the music he started with, and rebuilt them into something different, powerful, mind-blowing. For one magic decade he redefined music for a generation of people, and it's painful to think that it was one extreme that built another.
Even more painful to think how much more he could have given, er he not fall into that glittery, spiral trap.
As I look upon my thoughts and ideas about the future of my own work, I know that, on some level, I try, desperately, to follow the path of a certain kind of excellence that James Brown laid down. As I look upon the past of raqs sharqi, and try to map a future, I think upon how one builds a new future while honoring where you came from. I hope, and pray, the things I love can do so.
Thanks, Godfather.
I used to refer, only half-jokingly, to my dance performances as "Drawing Down James Brown". I can't say he was a direct influence -- I never set out to "move the crowd" like I do, much less to continue to do so, show after show -- but...
...it wasn't just the talent, hard-washed as it was. And it sure as hell wasn't his abusive nature. It was the way he so relentlessly attacked the understructures of the music he started with, and rebuilt them into something different, powerful, mind-blowing. For one magic decade he redefined music for a generation of people, and it's painful to think that it was one extreme that built another.
Even more painful to think how much more he could have given, er he not fall into that glittery, spiral trap.
As I look upon my thoughts and ideas about the future of my own work, I know that, on some level, I try, desperately, to follow the path of a certain kind of excellence that James Brown laid down. As I look upon the past of raqs sharqi, and try to map a future, I think upon how one builds a new future while honoring where you came from. I hope, and pray, the things I love can do so.
Thanks, Godfather.
This is sort of an apologia for the video in this post. And it's also something of a public post-processing of working out a comeback, of sorts, after four years of not dancing (more or less), and what that means to me. I believe pretty strongly in Open Source -- and that includes dance, so think of this as the documentation for the dance you see in the video. Source code available upon request. :)
Most importantly, Please Comment. Either here, or in the YouTube post. And that includes Constructive Criticism; I'm a big, tall black gentleman, and I can take someone criticizing my work pretty damn well, so if you feel it, and you think it'd be helpful, Do It.
And if you'd be so kind as to email, and repost, my video or this blog entry, I'd be grateful. If you like my writings, the subscription box for APOSTATE is in the upper-right corner of the webpage; feel free to use it!
And now, Your Q & A:
What's that music?
It's two pieces that I fused together. From a post elsewhere:
It's a mix; the first half is a slightly changed-up DJ Nader remix of a Waleed Tawfic song, Niqsim El Qamar. That's off his Music for the Hips album, which I highly recommend. Especially if you're trying to get to your Mom's place over Thanksgiving, and you're forced onto State Highways, because nothing quite says "I'm not like you!" like playing remixed modern Arabic pop music from a Minivan Driving Too Fast For Conditions in rural South Carolina, oh, yes.
The second half is blended in roughly towards the end of the first song, and it's Judas Goat by Filastine. The song used to be on the 'net, but all I can find is his politically-charged (and really powerful!) "Terror Mix" version (also on his Myspace page, along with other songs from the album; I'm a huge fan of the bizarre "Dental Rap meets Latino backbeat" song "Boca de Ouro"). Overall, he does amazing work, and I highly recommend him for dancers looking for the New Sound from Traditional sources, as well as people just looking for music that's far, far from Top 40.
One disappointment was that the blend never came out; it sounded, to my ear, like I just cut from one song to another, and I was trying for something a bit more subtle, a growing sense of unease in the music as "Judas Goat" gets louder in it's opening bits. Something to ponder for future shows.
Why is the video so dark and distant?
It was a pretty dark interior. More than that, I'd have to ask the kind people who did the video, and I would not care to presume upon them any more. They gave me this out of friendship, and the kindness of their hearts.
You look
Yea. Four years of hiatus did me no damned favors in that area, let me tell you. I mean, I'm not a small guy -- 6'4" in height, and I hit just about 300lbs on the bathroom scale -- but I'll admit that black top does me no favors. It's an old, old friend, that top, one of the first hand-sewn items I ever made, but I think it's retirement is nigh.
Post-Xmas, I have a project to make some new outfits from my Historical Recreation, and they promise to be good for wearing on stage for dancing, as well. We'll see.
And, of course, I'm working on my weight less program. Because of the vast number of projects I've been involved in, it's slow going, but we'll get there soon enough.
You don't do a lot of dancing.
Nope. I've never been one for the complex moves, and a lot of the small stuff I'm doing -- and I'm doing quite a bit -- is lost in this video. Add to that the effects of 4 years of hiatus, and the finger cymbals/sagat played with the music (more on which in a second), and this is sort of an experiment, as well as a return to arms.
I worked a great deal on this, but all this dance is improved -- I had some worked out ideas as to what to do, staging, movement, and sagat-playing wise in various segments. Yet that would not, in any way, count as a full-bore choreography. It might have looked better as choreography, yet I really wanted to play with the spontaneity that's been my hallmark as a dancer, and really is part of why I dance.
I am ponding working in contrast with many of my peers, many of whom are amazingly talented dancers of the first caliber. And I'm not just saying that because they might be reading, I really am blessed to be friends and compadres with 'em. And my goal was never, really, to be the best dancer, but to do two things:
1) Have fun doing what I love, and
2) Share my uniqueness with the world.
You see some of that on stage, in this video. You'll see more as I start to regrow and reshape myself as a dancer, once again.
Yea, what about that finger cymbal/sagat/zilling? Dude, isn't it off?
Sometimes it is. I didn't always hit my marks, nor did I always make the sagats sound like they do in my head while working this out, or even in practice sessions. The challenge was, in part, just to keep it going; despite the weeks of practice, it's been a long time. And yet, I felt it was important to do it, no matter the cost of the dancing, overall. I wanted to make that statement, to etch into the audience's mind that I was a different kind of dancer, one comfortable in my skin and with my movements, no matter how unskilled they were.
There's no better way to say "I'm cooler than cool" than to rub your belly and pat your head at the same time. Or, in this case, play sagats syncopated to the music -- to the point where I played differently if it was a male of female vocalist -- while dancing. It's kind of a lost art, and I really, really wanted to bring sexy...er, I mean sagats, back in whatever little way I could.
The ideal would be that the sagat playing would be an integral part of the music, a way to bring a bit of "live and direct", overlaying the sometimes synthesized sound (especially in the second piece of music) with something more authentic to the raqs sharqi experience. I want my sagat playing to be truly an instrument, and not just something I do "one-two-three one-two-three one-two-three " to a four count as I dance.
More questions? That's what the comment section is for! Thanks for reading!
I'm Ill, so take this with the grain of salt it's posted with, but...
John Rogers, over at Kung Fu Monkey*, is talking about one of his heroes and role models in the stand-up comedy biz. In the process, I saw something that caught my eye as a potential answer to the question "how do ordinary people build a Belly Dance SuperStar tour"?
It's just an idea, and I'm not certain how it'd work for troupes. Yet I hear so many complaints about BDSS, and little commentary about how someone could build a counter-BDSS. This might be one way, if someone was so interested. And I'd much rather see this than another person tell me that their goal, as a dancer, is to become a Desert Rose. Being a Desert Rose is great...yet it's not a career. And, from what I'm told, Miles, for all his "cute girl-ness", still looks for talent, for star power -- and I know Jillena does.
* You need to be reading Kung Fu Monkey. For my money, it's the best overall blog out there; somethign for the comic geeks, the television geeks, the comic book geeks, the movie geeks, the political geeks, and for Just Plain Folk.
John Rogers, over at Kung Fu Monkey*, is talking about one of his heroes and role models in the stand-up comedy biz. In the process, I saw something that caught my eye as a potential answer to the question "how do ordinary people build a Belly Dance SuperStar tour"?
[...]in the dying embers of the comedy boom , every Chinese restaurant and sports bar had a Comedy Night. This was a natural, if intermediary, step in the evolution of nightclub entertainment. Bar owners had just discovered that stand-ups were cheaper to book than bands, but had not yet sussed that karaoke was even cheaper....the problems with dancers using such a model are nigh-insurmountable, starting with a lack of venues, overall -- most dancers mine one or two places to dance in, and "nest" there. In the process, we tend to become somewhat passive receptors for new gigs, supporting ourselves with dance instruction and "real" jobs. Which is cool for stable income, but suffers from a number of issues, among which are a lack of places for up-and-coming dancers to work at.
Subsisting well under the HBO-level strata, but mining that rock for all it was worth, were the one-nighter booking agents. They strung together tours of these one-night gigs in the hinterlands in order to make the trips profitable for the comics and affordable for the clubs. There was no way in hell a comic was going to drive to Klamath Falls to do a $200 one-nighter. But if it were the Saturday on an Albany/Corvalis/Eugene/Roseburg/Klamath Falls run for a $1000 plus hotel, well then, that's a week worth travelling for. These agents would also rep you at the regional conventions for college entertainment, folding the two aspects of the trip together for maximum profitability. Name a community college in the Pacific Northwest, and I performed stand-up on one of their cafeteria tables.
It's just an idea, and I'm not certain how it'd work for troupes. Yet I hear so many complaints about BDSS, and little commentary about how someone could build a counter-BDSS. This might be one way, if someone was so interested. And I'd much rather see this than another person tell me that their goal, as a dancer, is to become a Desert Rose. Being a Desert Rose is great...yet it's not a career. And, from what I'm told, Miles, for all his "cute girl-ness", still looks for talent, for star power -- and I know Jillena does.
* You need to be reading Kung Fu Monkey. For my money, it's the best overall blog out there; somethign for the comic geeks, the television geeks, the comic book geeks, the movie geeks, the political geeks, and for Just Plain Folk.
A wise man once said, "The street finds it's own uses for things."
This video is a reflection of the street finding a use for Raqs Sharqi. And this post is a comment on the increasing debate about those uses.
It doesn't matter what people think. Just as with Latin Dance, with Caribbean Dance, Middle Eastern Dance will get cribbed by the kids, and co-opted into other forms, other styles, re-made, re-manufactured, and resold. Will it have soul? I don't know.
I do know that you, and everyone, has a decision to make. Will you fight? Or will you accept? Can we teach as they re-make? And if we can, which history of raqs will we teach?
This blog is more and more involved with that question, because I think it's crucial to the future of the form, and it's ignored in a flurry of emotions and opinions. When will we, as a dance community, come to gribs with these issues, and actually try to solve them for all of our members?
In the middle of a commentary about the rise of "ironic/urban crafts", Amanda over at Pandragon hits square on something that's been bothering me about the rise of "pure" Raqs Sharqi as not just an artistic movement, but also a concept. I'm going to quote at length from her article, which I highly recommend you read:
I've mentioned, in a couple of online fora recently, what I call the Elephant in the Room of Raqs Sharqi. Those in that world treat the dance, as we know it and see it, as this everlasting gob-stopper of a cultural artifact. We see Gamal and Carioca as eternal symbols of a grand past, the ultimate artists of a form we can only hope and pray to touch.Isn't it funny, though, how the evolution of Raqs Sharqi, the actual process by which it was created, processed, and built is given such short shrift? In deifying those artists, we ignore the work it took for them to . we avoid discussions on the manipulation of the dances we have left of them on film, how the process of filming changed the dance, in ways that are diffcult to re-construct today. And we ignore the severe modifications on the native forms that Badia worked to create Raqs Sharqi. Worst of all, we ignore that those modifications were not made for them, and for their enjoyment...but for our rich white forebearers, more interested in skin than skill.
In short, we pretend to be following authentic, native dance...and avoid the implications that the native form isn't so native. And then, we wonder why we struggle with finding acceptance with a modern, Western community...and wonder why American Tribal, and it's offshoots, do so well.
The thing I don't about a lot of these academic nostalgia trips is that people get that a lot of folk culture comes from necessity, not desire, and yet they still seem to think that the best way to honor these traditions is to preserve them as if the constraints were still there. From Somerson's article:
While it's important to acknowledge the constraints on women's lives (many women were forced to sew, cross-stitch, quilt, and knit, like it or not), it's also important to connect this history to communal creativity, rather than insist on an ahistorical, uberhip conception of knitting.
Earlier, she holds up sites that distinguish their patterns from the cloying ducks and milkmaids crap you see in a lot of more "working class" crafts, which alone irritated me, because the biggest lovers of those designs are often upper middle class people infatuated with the pastoral. That aside, I don't think the fact that women felt constrained to countrified nature of a lot of older designs is something to be brushed aside. People really chafed against those constraints sometimes. My grandmother, when telling me about her childhood in the 30s, told me that all their clothes had tedious flowery designs, because they made their clothes out of flour sacks. Now, the flour sack manufacturers did try to vary it up, but still, what you had to work with was pretty limited. (Example of the conformity by necessity here.) The truth of the matter is that if you want to really keep these arts alive, it's better to live in the tradition of using the skills for the life you are living now, and to make it authentic to you. That we have the ability to take the skills that turned flour sacks into dresses in the past and turn them into skills to make the sort of glamorous clothes our grandmothers couldn't afford does more honor to them than to pretend that you're living in some poverty-stricken past that they strove to escape.
I've mentioned, in a couple of online fora recently, what I call the Elephant in the Room of Raqs Sharqi. Those in that world treat the dance, as we know it and see it, as this everlasting gob-stopper of a cultural artifact. We see Gamal and Carioca as eternal symbols of a grand past, the ultimate artists of a form we can only hope and pray to touch.Isn't it funny, though, how the evolution of Raqs Sharqi, the actual process by which it was created, processed, and built is given such short shrift? In deifying those artists, we ignore the work it took for them to . we avoid discussions on the manipulation of the dances we have left of them on film, how the process of filming changed the dance, in ways that are diffcult to re-construct today. And we ignore the severe modifications on the native forms that Badia worked to create Raqs Sharqi. Worst of all, we ignore that those modifications were not made for them, and for their enjoyment...but for our rich white forebearers, more interested in skin than skill.
In short, we pretend to be following authentic, native dance...and avoid the implications that the native form isn't so native. And then, we wonder why we struggle with finding acceptance with a modern, Western community...and wonder why American Tribal, and it's offshoots, do so well.
Slowly digging out my feelings regarding my performance last weekend...
So, what do you think about music for dancers? Not just in the sense of finding music to dance to, but, for lack of a better phrase, "inhabiting the music", really trying to bring it out through your moves, your dance? This has been heavy on my heart and mind ever since I decided to get back on stage, for obvious reasons. And I ran into something I have saved away, from DJ Rupture's now-moved blog:
I think that's part of why I love working with finger cymbals so much. I adore that I can do more than just show the music with my body and my emotions, but that I can also participate in making the music more active, that I don't have to be a more-or-less passive participant in the music. That's one aspect of raqs sharqi that makes it very distinct from other forms, and it's another reason I love it and it's offshoots so.
Now if I could just get to be as good as I'd like to be... :)
By the by, if you like Electronica/Hip-hop/World Music with more than a bit of intellect, I highly recommend Rupture's work.
So, what do you think about music for dancers? Not just in the sense of finding music to dance to, but, for lack of a better phrase, "inhabiting the music", really trying to bring it out through your moves, your dance? This has been heavy on my heart and mind ever since I decided to get back on stage, for obvious reasons. And I ran into something I have saved away, from DJ Rupture's now-moved blog:
[...]imagine if dance, rather than writing, was considered the main mode of music criticism! Rhythm, response, realtime -- bodies on the line, first-person present, no third-person with its anonymous voice of authority. And it's true, watching a good dancer can help you understand the music, how it operates and inhabits us.And I love that thought, that ideal, even as I struggle to bring it out through myself.
I think that's part of why I love working with finger cymbals so much. I adore that I can do more than just show the music with my body and my emotions, but that I can also participate in making the music more active, that I don't have to be a more-or-less passive participant in the music. That's one aspect of raqs sharqi that makes it very distinct from other forms, and it's another reason I love it and it's offshoots so.
Now if I could just get to be as good as I'd like to be... :)
By the by, if you like Electronica/Hip-hop/World Music with more than a bit of intellect, I highly recommend Rupture's work.
Can't recollect the source, but this is a fun little piece about Our Pal Ahmadinejad. From England's favorite leftie rag, The Guardian:
One shudders at the though of President "Holocaust? What Holocaust?" having to deal with the sight of All Those Lovely, Talented, and Skilled Women. It's a wonder he didn't blow it in his pants, right then and there. After all, all those women, with all those men? All they could have on their minds would be tempting the minds and souls of every man present.
...Idiots.
...anyway, I'll grant him this much. It's likely that he just didn't even notice they were all...you know, unveiled and...articulate*! After all, they were just performing, and we all know how easy it is to ignore whomever's providing entertainment while we deal with more important things, like, say scaring hell out of an entire region.
In between bouts of lynching gay kids, natch.
BONUS: Guess who's in Iran right now at Ahmadinejad's little "We Hate The Jews" party? Our National Eyesore, David Duke. I swear, these guys make this easy.
* My Firefly shoutout. Cheers to the SoCal Browncoats, and everyone -- actors, fans, friends -- who came out on their own nickel and partied all weekend, in defiance of a company that would have left a bunch of good people high and dry. You can't take the sky from us. More -- much more -- at Whedonesque.
President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad of Iran, who flaunts his ideological fervour, has been accused of undermining Iran's Islamic revolution after television footage appeared to show him watching a female song and dance show.
The famously austere Mr Ahmadinejad has been criticised by his own allies after attending the lavish opening ceremony of the Asian games in Qatar, a sporting competition involving 13,000 athletes from 39 countries. The ceremony featured Indian and Egyptian dancers and female vocalists. Many were not wearing veils.
One shudders at the though of President "Holocaust? What Holocaust?" having to deal with the sight of All Those Lovely, Talented, and Skilled Women. It's a wonder he didn't blow it in his pants, right then and there. After all, all those women, with all those men? All they could have on their minds would be tempting the minds and souls of every man present.
...Idiots.
...anyway, I'll grant him this much. It's likely that he just didn't even notice they were all...you know, unveiled and...articulate*! After all, they were just performing, and we all know how easy it is to ignore whomever's providing entertainment while we deal with more important things, like, say scaring hell out of an entire region.
In between bouts of lynching gay kids, natch.
BONUS: Guess who's in Iran right now at Ahmadinejad's little "We Hate The Jews" party? Our National Eyesore, David Duke. I swear, these guys make this easy.
* My Firefly shoutout. Cheers to the SoCal Browncoats, and everyone -- actors, fans, friends -- who came out on their own nickel and partied all weekend, in defiance of a company that would have left a bunch of good people high and dry. You can't take the sky from us. More -- much more -- at Whedonesque.
