Adriana Lira of Brazil is coming to New York

Well, the workshop I've been talking about this whole time is quickly approaching, so I thought I should start telling you all some more details...here's the little blurb I listed on bellydanceny.com:

Daniela presents a weekend of workshops with Adriana Lira of Brazil at Stepping Out Studios, 37 W. 26th St., August 25 and 26 (Saturday and Sunday).

Classes include drum solo, pop choreography, choreography and improvization for performance workshop, and Lebanese cane. $75 for one day, $140 for both.

See www.danielabellydance.com/adriana (now with VIDEO clips!) for information including registration form contact. Email danielabellydance@yahoo.com for more info an a registration form.

So, that's the info. Please visit the website to learn more about Adriana. I urge you all to sign up, even if just for one of the two days. The best way to grow as a dancer is by experiencing other teachers, other styles, and by just getting yourself out there and learning MORE. So, sign up ASAP, because you don't want to wait till it's sold out!

See you at the workshop!

I'm too sexy for my bedlah.....

No, I don't really think that....I'm just playing with that ever popular song from the early 90's (come on, you know you all just started singing "I'm Too Sexy" in your heads....).

Anyway, back to the blog topic that triggered visions of bald men doing their little turn on the catwalk - what do you think about the relationship of being sexy and being a bellydancer? There was a thread on Bhuz the other day talking about how the general public (let's just call them the gp to make things easier, yes?) correlates bellydance directly with sex, when it really has nothing to do with sex. Well, my response to that is....oh really?

I do agree that folkloric style middle eastern dance is NOT about sex. Definitely not. But, is that really what we do? Or is our dance so far removed from it's "roots" that it really bears no resemblence to its folkloric beginnings, and as become an American invention all its own?

We all can agree that ATS (American Tribal Style) is an American invention. But we still classify what cabaret bellydancers do in terms of Middle Eastern style - Egyptian, Turkish, Lebanese, etc. Is it really?

I wanted to be a "bellydancer" since I was little. I saw the dancers in the Morocco pavilion at Epcot Center in Walt Disney World and thought they were the coolest thing since My Little Pony. I never once thought of it as an "authentic" anything - never thought about it's origination and the fact that it might mean something more than just being a sexy dancer. Like the gp, I've always correlated bellydance and sexy in my head - I mean, lets face it - we dance with our bellies exposed and create hipnotic shimmies and undulations with our bodies. What's not sexy about that???

As a beginner bellydancer, I continued on with this train of thought. At first, I was not exposed to the history and the culture of Middle Eastern Dance. I did not see myself as a conduit of Middle Eastern Culture in America. I saw my self as a sexy, sensual creature who all of a sudden had this superpower over men that I could excerise just by saying "I'm a bellydancer."

To me, that is what the American Cabaret bellydancer is all about - sensuality, sexuality, mystery, power, and grace. I don't think our sexuality as dancers is something we should be ashamed about, or be mad at someone over pointing it out. I think it's a great thing. But I am also to careful to draw the line between sexuality and trashiness - the key to the power we posses is in the "less is more" attitude we must have. We must keep up our mystique, and be careful not to cross the line.

Also, I am not saying that as bellydancers we do not have a duty to learn as much as we can about the "roots" of our dance. I am just saying that I think our dance has evolved so much from these roots that it is ok for us now to say that maybe, just maybe, it has become more of a way to celebrate a woman's sexuality and sensuality, than to accurately portray the cultural dances of the Middle East.

Ever since Little Egypt did her hoochie koochie dance at the Chicago World's Fair, since Barbara Eden crossed her arms and blinked her eyes and lived in a magic lamp, America has been enthralled with the exotic mystery of the bellydancer. And through this obsession with the "exotic", the American Cabaret bellydancer was born.

So...what do you think?

Long time, no blog

Hi everyone,

Well, when I thought it would be easy to hold down a full time job as an attorney, teach bellydance classes 5 days a week, dance at multiples parties every weekend (and sometimes during the week), plan my upcoming October wedding AND keep up my blog, I must not have been thinking clearly....

Anyway, I'm back! I have lots of interesting topics that I'd like to blog about, but I don't have the time right this minute. I will save those ideas for when I have time to do them justice.

In the meantime, I'd like to hear from you. What have you been up to lately? Take any good workshops? See any good dancers at your favorite restaurant? Find a new favorite dancer on youtube? Start a new class with a new teacher? Master that dance move that's been bugging you for years? Tell me about it!

Workshops!

Over the summer I will be hosting Adriana Lira of Brazil, for a weekend of workshops in New York (more about that in the weeks to come!). All this thinking of workshops has got me reflecting on my own workshop experiences and what I liked and disliked about them.



Most recently, I attended a workshop by Fahtiem, and one by Suhaila. Although the workshops were held on the same day, that was about the only thing that was similar about them!



The Suhaila workshop was intense. Suhaila is amazing, and I do love her dance style. However, I think her style is one that is better learned over time, and not in a three hour workshop. The class I took was on drum solos, and Suhaila uses a lot of layering in her drum solo work. I consider myself good at layering, but I felt like an uncoordinated goofball during this class. The movements that Suhaila incorporated into this dance were outrageous - I felt that only the most seasoned Suhaila student would walk away from that class feeling like they knew what they were doing.



The Fahtiem workshop was definitely more my speed. Fahtiem is a like a butterfly - her moves are effortless and she floats, rather than dances. I also found her to use a lot of jazz and lyrical type moves (not a shimmy in sight, actually), which were very easy for me to pick up, considering my dance background.

I left Fahtiem's workshop feeling like I had accomplished something. I had a choreography I could remember, and use, and I was enjoying myself during the class. I think all of these things are key to making a workshop successful for the individual dancer. It was definitely worth it for me.

So, what workshops have you taken? Who was your favorite? Why? Are there some things that make or break a workshop for you?

Glam. Not Glam.

I had my monthly show at Parker Jewish Adult Day Care today. Forty five minutes. They have me dance for forty five minutes. I now know why football players throw up after long, hard practices.

As I hunched over the toilet at the Day Care center dry heaving, I laughed to myself. I thought of this post, by Lucy on Bhuz, and how appropriate it was especially at that moment. So, with Lucy's permission, I am posting her extremely on-point monologue here for you to read. Enjoy.

Not glam: An inch of black crust on your feet from dancing in dirty restaurants. Detangling your sweaty, hairsprayed hair when you get home. Ass sweat. Crotch sweat. Belly button sweat. Sweat in places you didn’t even know you COULD sweat. The hard, rough calluses you get on the balls of your feet. Deflecting patrons who want to tip you in inappropriate places. Trying to keep your spirits up when you’re dancing for people who aren’t even paying attention to you, or worse, giving you dirty looks. Arguing with a club owner over money. Trying to dance with your eyelids stuck together thanks to an overzealous application of eyelash glue. Standing in a filthy kitchen, waiting to dance, and trying to keep the hem of your $800 costume off the floor. Changing in a cockroach-ridden storage closet. Trying to dab the sweat dripping down off the tip of your nose without the patrons noticing. Attempting to pee while still in costume without letting any part of your designer duds touch the toilet seat. Restaurant owners who think you can do a show, no problem, in the 6″ between tables and without any open space at all. Taking your wig off in the car and throwing it in the back seat, and then realizing that the people in the next car over are watching you. The smell of your head after you’ve sweated in a wig for three shows. Getting your veil back after a show and realizing that someone accidentally dipped it in hummus. Waking up the morning after a show with weird dance-related injuries - a rhinestone-shaped bruise on your knee, pinch marks from your bangles, scratches on your underarms from where you brushed against a jutting prong on your costume bra. Keeping your stage face on while a drunk asshole shouts, “Hey, loooookammmmme - I’m a bellydancer TOO!” and starts pelvic-thrusting his way across the floor (although you get your revenge when you swat him harder than is really necessary during your “playful” cane song). Waking up the next morning and realizing that you forgot to unpack your costume bag after the show last night, opening it up and being hit with the smell of damp sweat, shisha and cigarette smoke. Running into the back room after a show and having to bend over, heaving, to get enough air into your lungs.

Glam, or just plain fun: Making a little girl’s face light up. Getting a little Persian grandmother up to dance and having her family stuff your costume with twenties in appreciation. Buying out CVS’s entire stock of false eyelashes. New costumes. New music. Hitting the beat JUST right and doing something amazing that you’d never done before, never dreamed of doing before. Dancing to your favorite song at an Arabic nightclub and hearing the crowd sing the lyrics for you. Navigating your way across a stage that is so covered in dollar bills that you are afraid of slipping. Seeing yourself make money, REAL money, not a paycheck - dollar bill after dollar bill, until afterward, you cannot even close your wallet for all the money. Having someone want to show their appreciation for you so much that they write you a check as a tip. Dancing for people who appreciate all the work and research and sweat time you’ve put into becoming a great dancer. Being on stage, being beautiful, creating art with your body and your spirit, becoming music embodied, watching your skin shimmer and shimmy under the lights.

Lucy's website is http://www.lucy-dances.com/ and her blog is www.sparklepirate.wordpress.com

How did you get your start?

A recent thread on bhuz.com got me thinking. How did you get your start in bellydance? What made you take your first class, what made you decide "I want to do this?"

For me, it was almost an accident. A friend and I were going into major dance withdrawal after graduating from college and being finished with the dance team. We were taking various hip hop classes at Broadway Dance Center in Manhattan. One of our favorites was the class on Monday nights, which we never missed. The beginner bellydance class with Amira Mor was immediately after this hip hop class, and we decided to try it out for fun one day. I had always had "fantasies" about being a bellydancer, and had put learning how to bellydance on my "things to do before I die list," so I figured the opportunity was there, and I should take it.

We HATED it! The group was working on a veil choreography, which we later learned was one of the more "advanced" choreographies in Amira's repertoire. We had neither a veil, nor the ability to move our bodies the way some of the students in the class could (don't get me wrong, we weren't the only clueless people in the bunch, but there were certainly girls in the front who appeared to really know what they were doing).

We decided we were done with bellydance. Been there, done that, hated it! That was in October of 2002. We avoided that class at all costs until January, when a friend of my friend decided she wanted to take bellydance. We reluctantly agreed to go with her, so we ended up once again back in Amira's class.

Well, this time we actually enjoyed it. The choreography was more our speed, and we felt a little more comfortable following along. We learned that the group was preparing for a student showcase, and Amira asked us to join. During rehearsals for the showcase, Amira asked us to be in her company, and the rest is history.

So, that's my story, that's how all this craziness began. What's yours?

(By the way, if you have yet to sign up for bhuz.com and participate in the message boards, I highly suggest that you do so. You will be amazed at the wealth of information available from dancers all over the country. Be sure to say hi when you sign up - my handle is (what else??) danielabellydance.)

Gotta give 'em props.

Or do you?

Sometimes, I feel like my bellydance performance is more of a freak show than a dance show. I feel like, if I actually went out there and just DANCED for 20 minutes, the audience would get bored. So I have to distract them, with fun and exiciting props. Oooohh, look at the pretty wings! Ooooohh, watch me balance this sharp and dangerous sword on various body parts! (I haven't yet entered the realm of flaming candelabra on my head, but I'm sure it's only a matter of time...).

It's not that I don't enjoy using props. I do, really. They are fun, and sometimes challenging, and I do like working withthem. My current, standard show consists of wings, veil, sword and finger cymbals.

It's just that I sometimes wonder if I'd be able to hold the audiences attention without them? We live in a world where live action movies like Spiderman can show real, human actors swinging from building to building from spiderwebs coming out of their wrists. Are audiences jaded because of it? Does it take a lot more to "entertain" now that hollywood and technology have set the bar so high?

Can a simple dance awe the audience? Or do today's audiences need more?