Showing posts with label Improving your dance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Improving your dance. Show all posts

Wednesday, 13 January 2016

Practice snacks - making a difference to your dance in bite size chunks.

I've been thinking a lot about training and practice for class students lately.

I often catch myself telling dancers in class that the move the move they are struggling with will come... with practice. We usually drill movement in class, both while learning it and in the drills section of the class, but I don't believe it is the best use of our class time to drill a single move for an extended period until everyone has nailed it (drill-specific classes excepted); once I know my students can execute a move safely, understand what they are aiming for and have had a little time to let their bodies feel it, we usually move on. Apart from anything else a little settling time usually helps things click.

I do understand that not every class participant is going to go home and practice the material they covered in class. At all. Let alone for hours of meticulous drilling. But I am also aware that many dance students want to practice, but don't really know how.

Also I am an evil taskmaster and setting homework pleases me.

Are your toes good or naughty?


I train stupidly hard, because I love it, it's my passion, my job and I am trying to maintain a steep learning curve. I am prepared to prioritise my training and make sacrifices for it. I don't expect every student to be quite so affected. So I got to thinking about what I could advise students to do that wouldn't cut into their lives too hard, but would still make a difference to their dance.

[though if you are interested in really raising your game through intense training and practice, this is the series for you]

I'm a real fan of the idea of 10 minute practices, because most of us can find 10 minutes a couple of times a week. Or even just 2 minutes a day. A lot can be accomplished in 2 minutes a day. It could be the time while you wait for the microwave to ping your porridge in the morning, a mid-afternoon break to freshen up your brain. Schedule that time and you will do it.

So I'm going to start a new series on here of little homework snippets that make a difference.

I'll get into specifics with the next post, but for today, here's  some general ideas to get you going.

Daily drills


Use my drill generator to pick something at random, and practice it! Picking at random means you will not just practice the moves you like best! Chose one thing to practice, do it for the duration of one song.

Class technique top up


In most classes you will probably learn 2-4 new techniques or steps. Put on a song, you can use Arabic music or just something you like with a beat (I have a bit of a playlist for students here). It could even just be a plain drumbeat (I use Guy Shalom's Tablatastic for drills to specific beats or Gypsy Caravan's Caravan Rhythms). Practice your new steps for the duration of the song, first slow, then full speed. Start small and increase your range as you warm into the movement. Think about posture and isolation. If the movement is a layer, practice the separate components briefly before putting it together.

Improvisation sensation


Choose 3 dance movements or steps. You decide how loose your definition is (for instance you could choose "figure 8s" which could be any and all variations on an 8, from mayas to chest 8s and one-hip 8s, or specifically stick with one type). Put on a song you know and like. Dance to it, using only those moves. We are working on musicality and spontaneity. Whatever happens, just keep dancing.

Friday, 13 November 2015

Pushing our limits and the problem with comfortable

A few things have happened recently which got me thinking about comfort zones and learning, potential and achievement.

- I took a workshop with Heather Stants, who teaches very contemporary influenced fusion, a style which I find challenging to the point that I had previously concluded it "wasn't for me".

- A new student told me that she struggled with footwork and stated that she was slow at learning it.

- A prospective student asked if she would be able to perform in future.


When I started bellydance, one of the reasons I chose this particular form was because I believed that I had two left feet. I thought I couldn't handle footwork and I thought that bellydance didn't involve footwork.

I was wrong on both these counts.

It's taken years, but the greatest obstacle has not been my physical capability to move one foot and then the next without tripping over, it has been the mental understanding that it is OK to not get it first time, or second time, or the 50th time...

Dancing in Heather's workshop, I was trying to get my head/body around a combination that was all arms and legs and totally outside my comfort zone. I found myself thinking "this is hard", "I'm not good at this sort of thing", "I'm not getting this".

Then I mentally slapped myself around the face with a wet fish and told myself to sort it out. What I was experiencing wasn't being unable to do something, it was being unable to do something YET, and we have all experienced that with absolutely everything we can now do and take for granted. Every dance step we know, walking, talking, breathing. Not being able to do something does not mean never being able to do it, and it is not a good enough reason to give up.

If it frightens you, do it - Amanda Palmer

Your comfort zone is not where the good stuff happens. If you are comfortable doing something then you already know how to do it, so you aren't learning, you aren't progressing, you aren't growing.


It's OK to be uncomfortable. We live in a privileged world with constant progress towards making our lives easier, more convenient, more comfortable, and I think that sometimes we forget what it means to fight for something, to suffer because we know the reward will be worthwhile. There is not instant gratification for an artist, you have to sweat through the process.

Don't be afraid to get uncomfortable, you are safe. It's OK to be frustrated, it's OK to feel like your brain is overloaded, its OK if your muscles are struggling, if you are out of breath. It's all part of the process, this is what really living feels like.

The vast majority of my beginning students tell me that they are no good with footwork. I'm not sure why this is the case, perhaps it is because so much of the raqs sharqui vocabulary is so alien to those from a Western background, that they have no preconceptions, or take it for granted that it will be a struggle, but the feet? They assume that you either have it or you don't.

I have seen students begin the term falling over their own feet, but in 6-10 weeks, their grapevine, step touch and rocking step is second nature. If you can nail any one of those, you can nail any other step pattern. It's just a question of doing it over and over, slowly until it gets into your body. It will always be hard to start with, it will be automatic by the time you are done. Just don't give up before you get there.

The answer to the potential student's question is yes. You will be able to perform in time, if you put the work in. It may well be a couple of years, and I know that is daunting. When I first started out, I remember reading somewhere on Bhuz that one can expect to be at beginner level for around 2 years. A beginner? For 2 whole years? That seems like a long time when you have been dancing for 2 whole months! Well, time has flown and the more I dance, the more like a beginner I feel, and that's a good thing because it is merely an indicator of the immense amount of amazing dance experiences there are out there for the taking.

I do push my students, I am fairly unapologetic about it too! I won't throw them in the deep end (although I might encourage them to try the water just so they know how it feels), and I won't ask them to do anything they don't have the technical foundation to attempt safely. But I'm definitely not going to let them come back week after week dancing the same old material without testing their boundaries and trying new things. It's my responsibility as a facilitator of their dance journey to give them opportunities to test their limits and grow to meet their personal potential.

Naturally, I have to set the example by trying new styles, techniques and concepts. And when the going gets tough, I'll grit my teeth and get stuck in.

Sunday, 25 October 2015

Dancing for an unresponsive audience.

Performing in public takes serious nerve. And nothing breaks your nerve like an audience who ignores you, doesn't react to your performance or worse, reacts negatively. Today I'd like to explore how this happens, and how not to let it ruin your performance.

Gigs with potentially tough audiences


Some performance venues carry a stronger potential for a tough crowd. It's important to prepare well for these and not rely on the atmosphere to carry the performance. If you are a nervous performer, or struggle not to take the audience reaction too personally, you might want to consider avoiding them.

Promenade performances


A promenade stage is a performance area where the audience is "passing through". It might be a high street, shopping arcade, carnival or fete. Essentially you don't have a captive audience and you may find that the vast majority of people walk past without casting you a second glance.

The unexpected or out of place performance


If people aren't expecting to see dance, they can be a more reluctant audience. It might be a fete, art show, music event or street performance, but if people are there with a purpose other than watching dance, they are liable to be less enthusiastic.

The uncomfortable party


This is a tricky one to predict. Often when a dancer turns up to a party performance, the atmosphere is great, the dancer is welcome and everyone gets in the spirit and has a smashing time. Sometimes it takes a bit more coaxing. Bellydance still suffers a little with the reputation for being a bit risque. There are still times when a dance performance is booked to gently embarrass the guest of honour, and that can be awkward for everyone. On the other hand you might find the guest of honour and organisers really "get" your performance, but other guests are uncomfortable or unpleasant.

Culturally inappropriate


I've heard tales of dancers or groups being booked for "world" or "cultural" events and being poorly received by an audience of authentic Middle Eastern people who don't recognise their own culture in the performance (or do recognise it and don't appreciate how it is represented). This is a matter of communication, preparation and authenticity. If you are dancing a westernised or fusion style then it is important to make that clear, and if you are dancing an authentic Middle Eastern style to an audience who know what they are looking at, it better be rock solid authentic. That means music, costume, movement, the lot. It means no pop music with controversial lyrics, no Turkish in a Greek venue and there's a potential whole other post on all that....


Be prepared for a flat audience


If you are heading off to your local friendly hafla, it doesn't always matter if you are a bit unsure of yourself, because it is a safe space. Most haflas are supportive and fun, and they know what you are facing. You can get away with assuming that the audience will carry you a little. If I am trying out something new, I will always do it in a safe place among other dancers who understand the process, not for the general public.

If you are up for a tougher gig, your set needs to hold up on its own. Think about making it suitable for the occasion. Think about how to catch their eye and hold their attention. Use music that excites you and wear a costume that you feel fabulous, not self-conscious in.

Don't project motives onto your audience


"They didn't like my performance"

"They looked at me disapprovingly"

"They hated me"

I have heard all of these from dancers after a tough performance, but the truth is that you just can't tell what is going on in your audiences' thoughts. On more than one occasion I have had an audience member who sat with their arms folded and apparently scowling, go out of their way to tell me how much they loved my performance.

You don't know how someone's day is going, you can't say that the person who rushed past your stage area glowering wasn't just late for an appointment or hungry, or just had a row with their partner. Let it go.

It is your job to perform and present your art. It is not your job to control how it is received. If you have put the work in to present an appropriate and skilled performance, you have not failed.

Of course some people will react genuinely negatively. You can hear their concerns if you choose, but remember that not all critique is valid or necessary, process it as you will.

Find someone to dance for and focus on them.


In most audiences you will find someone who is into your performance. So dance for them.

Don't make it creepy and actually just dance at them, but know that they are there and they are a reason to keep doing your best.

Sometimes it's a small child who is totally, unabashedly into the music and spectacle. Sometimes it's a couple of tweens who might be put off or embarrassed by more than a fleeting smile in their direction. It might be just that one person who is really enjoying the dance. [It might also be a slightly creepy guy in a grubby mac, ignore him....]

You might have just instigated some major revelation or change in that one person, that makes it worth it. Don't let them down.

Find your intrinsic motivation


Why do you dance? Do you perform solely to gain appreciation and gratitude from your audience? If so, that's OK, but you will need to choose your performance outlets accordingly. What about the other reasons?

Are you trying to share the art and raise awareness of your danceform among the public? Know that not everyone who is inspired or interested by the dance is going to respond with rapture and gushing from the outset. Sometimes you are just planting a seed. Being visible and letting people know that it is possible to dance, to dance with curves, or with age, as a woman, as a man - you are making an impact, even if you can't feel it at the time.

Are you dancing to express yourself? then dance, send out your message to the world. You won't always make waves, but the act of expression remains.

Or perhaps you are dancing because you just love the music, and just love to dance. So keep doing it. Nobody can take that joy away from you, even if you offer it to share, and they choose not to accept.

Just keep dancing.

Or just imagine these guys in place of your actual audience.



Sunday, 17 May 2015

Become a top bellydance critic in 5 easy steps!

It was a happy coincidence last week, when shortly after writing the first installment of this pair, that I came across this article. It conveys an artist's frustration towards people who wish to offer constructive criticism in the wake of a performance. There are 2 types of post-performance feedback, only one is a reasonable choice.

The first is the criticism mentioned above. Don't go there. Even if you are the performer's official high critique officer, you need to let the dust settle. Don't kill the post performance high, or fuel the adrenaline fueled anxiety. I am usually rock steady before I perform, but I get nervous afterwards, dwelling on every perceived shortcoming. What I need at that point is someone to tell me I did OK, not a technical breakdown of the minutiae I need to work on!

The last, and only acceptable immediately post-performance feedback is brief, authentic and positive.

"I really enjoyed your dance tonight, your expression touched me". " I just wanted to say your performance was spectacular! Your choreography is really innovative"

All that said however, good, constructive feedback is a vital tool for any dancer who wants to get better. As teachers, mentors and peers we are often in the position to provide this, and help our fellow dancers strive for the next level. This is an enormous responsibility, so now lets look at a few things to help you along your way.

Metaphorical stock photo.

Are you sure you are the right person to do this?


OK, so the feedback police aren't going to cart you away, but to do justice to your fellow dancer's work, the first thing you need to do is decide whether this is the right route to be taking.

The first clue that you are in a good place to be giving critique, is that you have been asked. See, I said this was going to be easy! Critique has to be welcome, or you are wasting both your time. You don't always have to be asked, you can offer, and don't be downhearted if they decline, there's a lot of reasons why this might happen, few are personal. If, for instance, a dancer is working on the piece under the guidance of a particular teacher, seeking feedback from a third party mid-process can cause them to lose focus.

The next thing to consider is whether you have the technical/artistic understanding to give the kind of feedback in question. Do you understand the style well enough to know whether a move is executed with the appropriate nuances? If not, then perhaps focus on another angle that you feel you can comment upon with authority. Not sure if you can? Here is my acid test:

a) Can you see what they are doing right? 

If you can't find something to positively comment on the perhaps take a step back.

b) When you see that something is "wrong" or sub-optimal, can you clearly explain what they would need to do to improve or correct it? 

There is absolutely no point in calling attention to a problem if you cannot offer a solution.

That's in bold because it's important. It is absolutely crushing to be told something is not right but be given no hope of overcoming it. The perceived flaw becomes a part of the dancer's self-identity, a ball and chain that they feel they are stuck with, and then it becomes even harder to work through, even under proper guidance.

Consider your bearing towards the dancer, can you give fair critique? Do you have a vested interest in their progress? I have met teachers who teach for financial or egotistical reasons, and I have met those who teach because they genuinely want to help others get better. Those teachers, the ones who are not threatened by the "risk" of a student who might get better even than themselves, those who get a kick out of sharing their students' triumphs, are the ones I would book a private lesson with and gladly trust to take my dance apart and put it back together. 

The last point is one of etiquette. If you are in a dance class, and you are not the teacher, you are never the right person to give feedback. Apart from being really rude, you are likely to be disrupting the teacher's carefully considered plan for that student's progress.

If you aren't sure if you are the right person for the job, that's fine. It's better to take a step back and say so, than to thrash around in the dark. It is a really helpful and supportive thing to be able to say "you deserve more than I have to give".

Is this the right time?


A time and a place for everything. I said last week that processing critique is hard and today I've said that immediately after a performance is not the time to get the most out of it.

A dancer once advised me to wait a few weeks after a performance before watching it back on video. I don't always do this. Sometimes I film a performance or practice session specifically to look it over and make improvements in time for the next performance. I do agree though, that given a little breathing space, it becomes a lot easier to see the good and be proud of the result.

My favourite official critiquer will always approach me and ask if now is a good time to go over my latest offerings. It gives me a chance to make sure I am in a positive and receptive place.

Know what you are looking at


"The premise of post-modern dance was that it required a style of viewing very different from ballet or early modern dance - and every other dance genre also proposes its own way of seeing. If audiences are not meant to look for flying jumps and romantic agonies in 60s realism, they're also not intended to expect raw emotion or realistic drama in the ballet repertoire of the nineteenth century" Judith Mackrell - Reading Dance.

Just like Western dance forms, different styles of bellydance need to be viewed with a different eye. Elements that are desirable in one form might be inauthentic or inappropriate in another. So consider the style the dancer is aiming to convey.

Also consider the dancer's level. What are they working on? What have they asked you to look at?

Then there is the context. If you are looking at a dancer's first solo, then you can expect to see the product of nerves and anticipation, that is something that is likely to improve over time, through increased confidence which you can fortify with empowering feedback.

Specifically you might choose to focus on any or all of the following:

  • Stage presence/audience interaction
  • Technique
  • Musicality
  • Stylistic authenticity
  • Choreography (in terms of the writing or interpretation)
  • Costuming/presentation


The good stuff


As a school teacher, I was taught to write reports as a "praise sandwich". Begin on a good note, move on to points for improvement and leave them with something positive that motivates them to pick up your advice and get better. Even if your subject understands this concept, it still works.

It's really important to include positive points. For a start it lets the dancer know what works so they can do more of it, this is the first step towards developing their own style around their strengths. It's also just really important not to leave them thinking they sucked, because they didn't. Whatever they produced, it's theirs

Room for improvement


Last of all it is time to think about the elements that need work. This is a really important part of the critique, as it is where the most potential for growth lies, but it is also a treacherous rope bridge over a swamp of negativity.

Choose your areas of focus carefully. Often when I am teaching I look at a student and my brain comes up with a dozen small adjustments they could make to perfect their technique; but if I stood there and reeled them off they would at best be overwhelmed and at worst run sobbing from the class never to return!

Instead I prioritise. Top priority goes to anything that might actually damage their body - so creating and maintaining a good dance posture, especially in the low back, knees/ankles, neck and shoulders. After that I look for the elements that would make the biggest improvement with the least effort. I usually leave regular students with one or two things to work on, a private student with notebook in hand will get enough material to work on for a couple of month's practice.

Focus on the solutions, not the problems. Instead of "your arms look like spaghetti" go with "I'd like you to focus on keep energy in your arms, especially when they are in this position, try working with these drills and imagining you are projecting through this part of your hand..."

In closing


Critiquing other dancers is not just a skill for teachers, it's also a skill that will help you to use other people's performances to improve your own dance. Tactful and helpful feedback, and those who can give it, are an asset to the dance community, so go forth and spread the love, with permission of course.


Friday, 8 May 2015

It's not personal. It's bellydance


As previously promised, I want to look a little into feedback/critique. This week we are going to look at taking it, and next week at giving it, because that's only fair.

Getting better at bellydance, using your ears.


Nobody likes criticism. Absolutely nobody. But, like it or not, it is a valuable part of your toolkit for becoming a better dancer. So let's have a look at a few things that make putting your big girl/boy pants on and hearing the truth more useful and more palatable.

Tuning in to the right channels.


The first thing to consider, is who you are receiving feedback from. Everybody has an opinion. Not every opinion is useful or valid for you, in this context, in this moment.

The first criterion for receiving feedback is wanting to receive it. If you are not comfortable welcoming that input, then you don't have to hear it, and it is entirely possible it is not great feedback anyway, because people who give good, constructive advice usually understand when it is appropriate to do so.

You need to be in the right place to hear critique, especially the thorough, dance improving kind. It's OK to decide that now is not the right time and just enjoy your dance until you feel less delicate.

A teacher or fellow dancer who understands your level, is aware of your goals and has an interest in seeing you meet your potential as a dancer is a good source of useful critique.

Someone who sees your performance out of context does not have the frame of reference to give you the most helpful advice.

Someone who is competitive or more focussed on their own outcomes, is unlikely to be all that helpful. Someone who does not understand the technical process of learning dance is unlikely to pick out the best things to work on.

Be vulnerable around positive, encouraging, supportive, but honest people. Use your diva nerve on everyone else.

The last thing to mention in this section, is the people who pay the piper, well, the dancer. As a performing pro, you sometimes need to get feedback from the guys who pay your bills, but as a freelance dancer, you have a certain amount of leeway to choose those people.

When asking for feedback, be specific


If you find yourself approaching someone asking for critique, let them know exactly what you need from them.

Are you feeling fragile and just looking for general reassurance you didn't completely suck? Or do you want the minutiae dissected out so you can absolutely nail that choreography?

Were you trying to tell a story or express an emotion? Ask them if they saw it? When did it come through? Was it enough or could you push it further?

Have you been working on a technical issue? Let them know and ask if they are seeing an improvement.

Listen


Seems obvious, but let's go back to that bit about how everyone hates feedback.

Good feedback will be a mixture of observations about your strong points and areas for improvement.

Everyone hates hearing negative things about themselves, and areas for improvement are often received as negative criticism. When we hear them, we shut down, we disagree with it and argue (maybe just in our heads, but we do, it's natural) or we feel miserable about our apparent "failings" and shut ourselves off.

Be mindful of this. You will do it, you have to consciously rally against it. A sympathetic reviewer will cushion the blows, but you still need to focus on the fact that this is a route to improvement. Not an end point.

If you are told that your arms are flailing like a giant orangutan, well firstly ditch your reviewer because that's just shady; but then remember that even if this is true, it is only true at this point in time. You are not condemned to permanent ape-flailing. You are already taking the first step towards beautiful, graceful arms, right now.

Listen to the good stuff too. It can be overwhelming when you are suddenly presented with a whole bundle of things to work on. Exciting sometimes too, but there's so much to do and  after a particularly meticulous critique, you can be left feeling like you can hardly dance at all. So remember the good stuff. When we shut down to protect ourselves from the "negative" side, we often shut out the compliments too.

If your reviewer hasn't pointed out a few things that you are absolutely rocking, or have made a lot of improvement upon, then they are not doing their job.

Feedback in a wider context.


Although the above applies to most feedback situations, it is most valid on a specific, one-on-one basis, such as a performance critique or private lesson, but for most bellydance students, the most common arena for feedback is your weekly class.

I try to ensure that I have given every dancer a little bit of individual attention every lesson, but the logistics of getting around a larger group, along with my consciousness to avoid bogging a dancer down with too many things to work on at once, means that my in-class individual feedback manifests in small, palatable chunks.

So I tend to give a lot of feedback to the group. I'm going to talk about giving feedback next week, where I will go into that more. As a student, in a class listening to general feedback, any piece of information from your teacher could be corrective, informative, or complimentary, which makes it a little easier to process.

When your teacher flags up an issue, it may be because they see something that needs improvement, or it may be something you need to be mindful of in general - if you are getting it right today, best be aware that you are lest you miss that crucial bit of technique next time.

Processing this kind of feedback is a skill in itself, and it is teaching you to assess and make judgments on your own technique. So when an issue is flagged, check in with yourself, can you improve, or do you just need to consolidate the picture perfect job you are already doing?

Work on it.


Listen. Accept. Act.

Your feedback has hopefully flagged up some areas to work on. If not, ask for them.

If a teacher has flagged up a gap in your technique, then ask for drills or conditioning to improve it. Critique should be constructive, so if someone is qualified to critique you, they should be able to tell you how to improve. Otherwise they are just being unkind and undermining.

Feedback is useless unless it is acted upon, so now the baton has been passed to you. Go forth and improve!


Friday, 10 April 2015

Evolution of a dance workshop student.

Beginning bellydance


My first "proper" bellydance lesson was a workshop.

This is quite unusual, most student dancers find a teacher first, then learn the basics in class for a few terms before they venture out into the world of workshops and dance events. It turned out however that the local teacher I wanted to learn with was nearing the end of a term, and taught her beginners in a 10 week course. I would have to wait until the next term, so in the meantime, I tried out some moves with a good beginner DVD, then went to a fundamentals workshop with Yasmin Asar.

I was a fair bit out of my depth, but it was the perfect workshop for me at the time, being technically based it gave me a better understanding of the basic moves, because while DVDs have their place, the best way to learn will always be in a class with a real life teacher.

It was only a couple of weeks after that, when I was finally able to enroll in a regular class, and my journey in dance could begin in earnest.



Attending workshops as a baby dancer


I'd been attending classes, and doggedly practicing inbetween, for about 3 months when I got to go to my first dance festival. Gothla was a gentle introduction to dance events, because I had friends who would be there, and because the booking system allowed me to book in for just a few workshops. I booked in for more when I got there too!

I practiced extra hard in the weeks before, because the prospect of dancing for 10 or more hours over a weekend was far more extreme than I had ever attempted, I wanted to make sure I didn't flake out and waste my opportunity.

My workshop choices were fairly random. Some technical, some presentation based, some choreography, some arty. I did the stuff that sounded coolest. I booked for fun.

I kept this pattern up over my next few festivals, Celebrating Dance, my first Majma - I tried out new styles, so that I could decide which folkloric dances I liked best. I trained with teachers I liked, I took workshops with titles that sounded good. I learned a lot, sometimes I learned that I should probably have chosen something else, but that's all part of the process. I was getting out and feeling like a dancer, wearing out dance shoes and making friends.

This decimated dance paw is Emma Pyke's fault.

The bellydance upstart


Then came the phase where I decided I wanted to "get good" at bellydance. To do that, I needed to be challenged. So I became quite discerning at choosing workshops that were aimed at dancers above beginner level (many workshops are "open level" which means they are attainable for newer dancers, but usually have benefits for more experienced dancers as well).

I also started looking at skills I particularly wanted to develop, prop refinement, finger cymbals etc, but I rarely took a workshop just to have a go at something new. I was narrowing my focus with the aim of improving my performance skills, rather than simply having a dance. I also stopped doing choreography workshops so much.

The purist.


I went through a year when I decided I was going to work on my improvisation to live music. In that time I only took workshops on musicality, improvisation or dancing to live bands; with the only exceptions being when I was hosting a guest teacher for a workshop in Glastonbury.

This wasn't just a workshop thing, I had a choreography ban and worked on, and performed, only improvised dances. It was a good break, I learned a lot and developed skills that serve me well as an entertainer.

It was also during this time that I became a notebook devotee. For years I had watched other dancers take notes in workshops and convinced myself that I didn't need to, what I needed to take away was in my body. Now I take loads of notes, immediately after class so I get to participate in all the dancing, but get down all the information while it is still fresh. I use my notes a lot in my personal practice, it means I can take material away from a workshop to keep working on it, thoroughly. I take notes on DVDs too. It's easier to refer back to my notebook than to dig out the DVD to find one small section; if I rent a class from RaqsTV, then it means that I have the information, long after my rental expires.

Back to basics


Now I have almost come full circle. I'm going back to the open level classes, looking at basics, because I know that really working hard on the minutiae in my basic technique can have an enormous knock on effect on my dance as a whole. I'm also going back to those arty workshops and looking harder at expression, musicality and storytelling. All those things are accessible to beginners, but as an experienced dancer, they are still fresh and vital performance skills.

Very recently I have started learning other dancer's choreography again. After a long stretch of concentrating on technique, creating my own choreography and improvisation, I feel ready to learn from choreography again. It helps me break out of my habits and forces me to dance  in ways I might not have thought of, or might find more challenging. In a way I am broadening my horizons again, but instead of learning a load of dances just for fun, I am finding elements in those dances to bring back to my, now firmly established, personal dance base.

The last thing I have noticed as my dance experience has grown, is that a 2 hour workshop is never enough. I am far more interested now in dancing in longer workshops, or intensives. At this year's Majma I deliberately booked all my sessions with the same teacher - 3 of the workshops were a series anyhow. I want to really get down to the nitty gritty of things, and that takes long, intensive study. I'm really pleased to have some fabulous intensives coming up this year. 

I wonder what the next phase of my dance learning will look like.

Sunday, 5 April 2015

Sneaky fusion - The subtle influences that bleed into our dance.

I've been thinking a lot about fusion lately.

There is a whole spectrum of thought in the bellydance community about fusing Middle Eastern dance, both on a technical and artistic level. While some dancers believe that the dances should remain "unpolluted" for reasons of preservation or appropriation, others are more willing to mix it up. But this isn't the place for that debate, I haven't got long enough to even cover the tip of that iceberg today!!

Usually fusion, well, good fusion, means a dancer who has a solid training and understanding of 2 or more dance forms, blends them together into a performance that uses elements of both, where the origins are clear. Hopefully this is done tastefully and sympathetically, but not always, which is why people sometimes get twitchy about it.

Some kinds of fusion, like Tribal Fusion, have gained a life of their own and are now taught independently of the parent styles.

But that's still not what I want to talk about today. What I have been thinking about lately is incidental fusion. Where movement, posture, gesture, bearing or stylisation bleeds into bellydance, without really being acknowledged, maybe not even by the dancer herself.

This is a metaphor. A delicious metaphor.

Whether we like it or not, "bellydance" has been subject to fusion from the outset. Many of the "folkloric" styles taught for performance have been tweaked for that purpose generations ago and are no longer strictly authentic. Most infamously Mahmoud Reda took dances from all over Egypt and adapted them for stage and screen. He was heavily influenced by Western musical theatre and film. He even created new dances for regions that did not have a suitable local dance.

Tahia Carioca took her stage name from the Brazillian dance steps she incorporated into her shows.

Samia Gamal notoriously took ballet training which is evident in her arm carriage and graceful movement. I have never studied ballet, but I know that it has an influence on my Oriental style because Gamal's performances, along with several other ballet-influenced Oriental dancers, are inspirational to me.

Cross training in dance styles is not new in Raqs Sharqui, and allowing an "accent" to show through from this training has, in some cases, become important in a dancer's uniqueness.

I recently did a workshop with Ava Fleming entitled "Ballroom for Bellydancers" where I learned that her trademark fluid travelling technique has a strong Latin ballroom influence. 

I also noticed during these workshops, that when I walk slowly in dance, I trail my back toe, partly for balance, partly for ooze. It took me a while to realise that I learned this habit taking Argentinian Tango lessons.

Then more recently I have been working on a short choreography by Collena Shakti. There's no Arabic element in this dance at all, but I chose it specifically because I wanted to cross train in terms of arm pathways, hand awareness (crucial in the Classical Indian elements of this dance) and eyeline. The impact this has had on my Raqs Sharqui was immediate and unconscious. Which was the point. I can drill bellydance arms (and ballet arms, thanks Aziza) forever, but getting out of my comfort zone and learning something new heightened my awareness and forced the learning curve.

While teaching this choreography, Collena explains the influences. The Persian in there is very subtle, it's about posture and bodylines. I wouldn't have seen it if she hadn't mentioned it, but it makes an impact on the presentation that is unmistakable.

In short, the more you delve into it, the more apparent it is that there is more fusion in our dance than we might at first assume.

This got me thinking about how easily our dancing can be influenced. I've written before about how witnessing dance without learning or practicing it can affect our brains and our muscle memory. I wondered how many of the hundreds of performances of various dance styles I have witnessed have left a subtle impression somewhere on my dance. A little gesture here, a subtle element of musicality there.

And it isn't just dancing either. I know that I use poses, gestures, expressions etc from a variety of sources, images and non-dance performance when I create a new piece; every day all of us are exposed to a myriad of sources of inspiration, that are all adding their tiny flavour somewhere. Maybe it will come out, maybe it won't.

I try to be mindful of inauthentic elements creeping into my performance. If they are there I want to know they are there and why. But I also find it fascinating how each of us is building our unique dance fingerprint; created and continuously adjusted by how we practice and what we witness every day.

Saturday, 14 March 2015

Hitting the wall

I've been reflecting a recently on the process of building a performance, or more specifically, a point in the process which I like to call "sitting on the floor crying". I've mentioned it before and upon encountering it again recently, I decided to look a little deeper into it.

Now, I'm not saying that literally sitting on the floor and crying is a necessary part of my process, it's more a descriptor of what it feels like than what happens. What I am referring to is the point where at about 60-80% of completion, I hit a wall and just don't know how to continue. I might decide I hate the music and don't want to dance to it at all. I undoubtedly start to doubt my ability. I may even start contemplating giving up and not doing this performance at all, or any more ever! A friend recently described it as when the dance behaves like a toddler who sits down in the middle of the supermarket and refuses to budge.

A couple of years ago I  began to recognise this as an inevitable part of preparing for a performance. More recently I have begun to recognise it as a necessary part of preparing for a great performance.

Creating a new performance is a learning experience. Or it should be. Every new performance should push you, technically, artistically or both. If you aren't pushing your boundaries you aren't learning. If you aren't learning, you aren't growing. If you aren't growing then you are dead in the water. There is only a limited opportunity to keep dancing the same dance before  you or your audience start to tire of it.

If you really challenge yourself, then there will come a point when the learning curve becomes so steep, so intense, that it feels like a wall. A dead end. You can take a step back and trot along at a more comfortable level, or you can push through it. Pushing through it is when the magic happens, but it's never easy.

In my experience, at this point I usually go into extra technical mode. I start thinking in beats and bars and which steps will fill the void that stares back at me unblinkingly every time I try to dance. The result of this is usually a bit bland and clinical, as you might expect.

It was at this point recently when a friend suggested I rewatch this video, so I did. I would recommend that you do too.


It reminded me that I was getting wrapped up in the wrong things, thinking about the performance, the audience, the technique, whether the music was right, the deadline, rather than just... making good art.

So I sat down and I thought about what I could do to put the focus where I wanted it to be, on the message, the story, the emotion of the piece. I wrote a list of things to try, to help me get through the barrier and keep on dancing. Here they are:

Watch dancing. Similar and different performances for inspiration. How have other dancers expressed similar ideas? Don't overanalyse, binge on dance videos for an evening and let it soak in and inspire you.

If you have a tendency to try and pile in all your complicated technique in a tight spot, try reprioritising.

Sit down and dance the music just with your upper body and expression.

Choreograph some really simple steps or footwork first, then put expression and arms on top. No fancy hips or layers. You need your feet in place so you don't fall over, but after that concentrate on arms, face and bearing. Once you've nailed that you might want to put something more complex on top, or you might find it's pretty powerful as it is. Don't always feel you have to fill the silence.

Listen to the music. Properly. Concentrate on what the drums are doing. Listen again and concentrate on what a particular section of the melody does. Slow it down (there's some great apps like Audipo or The Amazing Slow Downer that help with this) and see if there is anything subtle in there that you are missing. Sometimes a subtle drum embellishment  or variation in the bass line will give you something to put your layers to that isn't so obvious or expected.

Get feedback. Ask a dance friend or teacher to appraise the work you have done so far. Or try a community like Bhuz.com and post a video. A good critique will include advice about what is working, as well as what isn't. Sometimes what it really takes to get past a block is reassurance that actually, despite what you think, you are on the right track.

Specialised tuition. Ask your regular teacher, or another teacher whose performances you admire, for a private lesson. They can support you through the process, teach you some new steps or even choreograph a little to give you a leg up.

Sometimes the block is technical. Sometimes the only way to make the performance meet your vision for it is to raise your game technically. So take some time out, go to classes, workshops, dance DVDs, you may already have something in your collection that you could revisit.

Most of all, don't give up. Take a break if you need, but come back to it, and own it like only you can.


Friday, 27 February 2015

Postcards from the coal face. Reflections on my dance practice.

I've been reflecting upon and tweaking my daily dance practice quite a lot lately. Over the last few months I have been working on refining my practice to get the best value out of my time and cultivate a schedule that allows me to maintain fitness, progress technically and prepare for performance in a way that works for my body and other commitments.

So after trying out a few variations of my own, I decided to start a clean slate in January with a little hand holding from Datura Online.  I know that when I choose my own practice, I'll choose the things I like and find easy. I started their Crazy Train programme, which is around 2 hours a day of conditioning, drills and technique, all set out, for 4 weeks of comprehensive practice. I completed the month on this, and then on reflection, decided what I would take away into my own tailored training. This is what I discovered:

Prioritising is more effective than you might think


At first I thought that finding 2 hours a day for basic dance practice (not including classes and performance preparation) was going to be impossible, but everything is impossible until you give it a go. The very first video on Crazy Train is this from Amy Sigil. She is totally right. You have to prioritise the important things. Dance is my passion and my trade, I can't afford to down-prioritise it. So I dance first, and do the other things later. When you work regular office hours, outside the home, your work comes first. You go to work, you do the work. If there is laundry left to hang up, but it's time to go to work, you don't do the laundry, you go to work. Equally you don't check your emails one last time, or anything else. I have learned to be this brutal about my dance schedule too, because if I let it slip, it's gone.

Reporting back helps


A few months back a dance co-conspirator of mine suggested a challenge, where our group of disparate dancers would attempt to complete at least 10 minutes dance every day. As I've said before, 10 minutes should be easy to achieve and is better than nothing. I was already in a daily habit of weight training, yoga, shimmy drills and core technique drills - on top of class preparation, choreography etc, so I figured it would be no problem.

This was a great challenge, firstly because I learned that actually, I was sometimes skipping out of my basic practice (especially if I was teaching or taking a class that day). I also noticed that "reporting in" to my peers was a motivator. Sharing your accomplishments, even if it is just 20 minutes of shimmy drills, is satisfying and hearing about their exploits was motivating. So I bought a notebook to dedicate as a dance diary. Writing in the diary is really just reporting in to myself, but the process of entering my practice encourages me to have more to write about! It also helps me keep track and check the patterns and roundedness of my schedule.

Dance vegetables are important


In her Flow Drills workshop, Zoe Jakes talks about the importance of "eating your dance vegetables". Foundation drills, strength conditioning, flexibility and cardio are the cornerstones of dance. Zoe talks about the necessity of practicing these on a daily basis, only then can you get down to "playing" trying out new layers and combos, choreography, all that stuff.

I believed her the first time I saw it, but after several weeks of religious vegetable dancing, the fundamental importance of a dedicated regular, grass roots practice has become extremely apparent to me. I've written before about the importance of returning to "beginner" technique, but it's actually about maintaining and improving it. Day by day.

Actual vegetables are also important


I've always had an interest in nutrition, and I know that how I eat reflects in how I feel and how I dance. Dancers are in an odd place of being both artists and athletes. It's tempting to think that we should be able to exist on tea and hob nobs, in a feverish artistic reclusion, but our art is enacted through our bodies. Our bodies are the instrument of our expression and we have to take care of them. Our bodies also often represent the limits of our expression. A stronger, healthier body means more access to more movements and a more versatile toolkit through which to express ourselves.

I've come across many variations in diet amongst bellydancers, some swear by their particular variant, supplement or lifestyle. Our ideal diets are all very individual, based on our baseline needs, budget, ethical choices, tastes and training levels, so I'm not going to make any suggestions here. However I have observed that being aware of (and increasing) the levels of water and protein in my diet has coincided with better stamina and less muscle fatigue or post-exercise weakness.

It's not just about maintenance


Working on the same drills, every single day doesn't just preserve the skill, it gradually refines it. You might not see the difference immediately, but give it a month and the contrast is stark. Getting better at a particular drill means that certain elements become automatic, and when you don't have to think about those anymore, you can focus on refining something new.

There is benefit in boredom


Following on from my previous point, sometimes doing the same drills over on a daily, or even weekly, basis can seem tedious. I considered for a while whether I could do something else while I was drilling. Then I realised that concentrating on the drill itself is really important. When I no longer have to apply my brain power to making the move happen, I have the capacity to analyse and refine it. There is always a reason to focus my attention.

It's not just drills that bear repeating.


I have an enormous collection of bellydance DVDs and downloads, not to mention the streamable Datura library. Everything from conditioning to drills, flow practice to technical breakdown. I tend to use them on a fairly broad rotation. The flow and drills gets used more.

The Crazy Train programme actually repeats videos that I would not have considered repeating at such a tight frequency. Combinations and technique that I might previously have thought once, or very occasionally, was enough. Making myself repeat them I realised that there is a lot of depth you can miss while learning a combination, and going over the technique, from scratch, for a second or third time really allows me to get to the guts of it.

Teaching is not practice


There was a time when I considered my teaching time to equate to drilling time. After all, I am breaking down the technique, practicing it over and over. The problem is that while I am conscious of maintaining good technique, I am also watching my students, analysing their movements, making judgements about what to correct, what to encourage and what to let lie. While I may have revelations about the mechanics of a movement while I teach it, I can't really get into the meat of my own technique while my purpose is to support that of my students. In addition I can't really push myself when I am tailoring the level to beginner or improver level dancers. I have to respect the limits of their stamina, range of movement etc, and that means not challenging my own.

Variety is the spice of success


I've talked before about cross training, but I've also noticed how different types of cross training benefit each other. For instance I regularly use Jillian Michaels' Shred workouts for conditioning, although I have to make some modifications recommended by Shredheads, to respect my joints. I'm not a massive fan of working out, so the high intensity Shred workouts are the exercise equivalent of ripping off a band aid. I don't do Shred daily however. I mix it up with pilates, yoga and dance flow conditioning.

Early on, I found that my ability to keep up with the Shred workout was limited by muscle fatigue. Even on the cardio focussed workouts I wasn't nearing my cardio limit before my legs started to tire. After mixing it up with some pilates for a couple of weeks however, increasing my strength, I found that I had the ability to push harder and reach that sweaty out-of-breath sweet spot when I got back to my cardio circuits.

I also used to have a real problem with burpees. They were (and probably still are) my nemesis. On the other side of things I have been working on tolasana. I started back in October when I couldn't lift my weight off the floor at all. I've found that the core strength from my tolasana practice gives me the extra oomph I need to get my feet back to my hands from plank when I am doing burpees. I'm still not great at them, but I can actually get through a set now.

A committed practice habit has inertia


It surprised me how quickly this set in. I would suppose it took me less than a week of devoting 2 hours a day to basic practice and learning (not teaching, not choreography or rehearsal) to set in my mind that this was what I did now. Usually I do an hour of conditioning in the late morning or early afternoon, then the rest in 20-30 minute slots later in the day. I don't argue with myself about it. It has to be done.

Then I went away for a couple of days and had to break my schedule. I was so grouchy and twitchy not getting my dance fix. It was hard to get back to as well. So I have had to work out ways to maintain some semblance of routine even when my schedule is disrupted.

Missing  practice


Missing out a day's practice is really easy when other things get in the way, and one missed day easily turns into 2 or 3. I try to schedule my down days, usually to coincide with times when I know I am going to be busy or tired. I also try to replace my dance practice with something else, like restorative yoga, to maintain the "slot" in my day.

Busy people are happy people


My father always used to say that if you want something done, you should give it to a busy person. Getting down to practice straightaway. Making the decision not to sit down for that cup of tea after the kids are in bed, but to get straight down to dance-business. I don't let up until I get all my "to dos" ticked. It's busy, but it's productive.

Changes are incremental and not always predictable


I can't see from day to day, or even week to week, the improvements that a dedicated practice creates. It's not the instant gratification of an intensive for instance. I have also found that changes I expected haven't manifested as fast as I might predict, while others have been clear and surprising.

Keeping track of progress by filming samples of drills or combinations and comparing them, a few weeks apart makes it easier to see the changes, and gain the motivation to keep going.


Thursday, 13 November 2014

Getting better at bellydance without leaving the sofa.

Part 5 - Using other people's performance videos to improve your dance


Are you exhausted from all those classes, drilling and conditioning? Are you perhaps recovering from an illness or injury but still craving some bellydance? The good news is, that even when you can hardly move a muscle, you can still keep working at improving your dance! This is a real thing as neuroscience is showing us that trained dancers' brains have the ability to simulate movement while observing other dancers, how cool is that?

I really love YouTube, for the vast variety of, well, everything it has on there. For a dancer it can be a really valuable resource, allowing us to catch up with the happenings of events we couldn’t get to, or see our idols perform without leaving our armchairs. I am constantly updating my playlists of dance material for my students and other dancers.

YouTube can also be a great training tool. I’m not talking about those “learn to bellydance online” videos. Forget those. Although learning from DVDs and video streaming can be a worthwhile option, YouTube is full of dancers with no credentials teaching wrong and potentially damaging technique, without the feedback or detail you need to really master the dance.

What I am talking about is performance videos. There are literally thousands of examples of bellydance performances on YouTube, some are highly polished productions, some a home camera footage from small events, but you can learn and improve your dance with all of it.

Getting out and watching live performances will always be the aspirational option, however unless you are in an extremely busy dance community, you won’t be doing that every night, or even every week. If you are, you are still missing out on amazing performances happening all around the globe, you can’t physically get to everything!

Whether the dancer is highly accomplished, or inexperienced, whether the performance resonates deeply with you or not, there is always something to take away from watching a dancer. You can optimise this by taking time to consider and reflect upon your observations.

I like to watch a video through twice. The first time I let it wash over me, I just enjoy the performance as it is, trying to avoid critical eyes. I think it is important to retain the ability to simply experience a performance. Dance is communication, listen, don’t drown out the soul of the dancer by analysing every minutia, not yet.

After the first watch, take a moment to reflect upon your impressions. It can be worthwhile to write them down. If you are a bit stuck, think about these questions:
  • What was the dancer trying to convey?
  • What was the mood of the piece?
  • Is this a character piece? Who is the character, do you feel you know them?
  • Did you like the dance overall?
  • Does anything stand out as being particularly good or particularly distracting?
The next viewing is the time to start analysing, you might even want to watch in short sections, repeating anything you feel needs another look.

Try and identify what it is exactly that you liked about the performance, and if there were elements that you didn’t feel so great about, why was that the case? There are a huge number of things you could focus on. Try to pick a few based either on something you are personally working on, or something that struck you about this particular piece. Why not start by choosing just one of these elements and the example questions here?

Presentation

When we look at presentation we are taking in many different elements, from setting and costuming to audience engagement. Good presentation will vary to suit the venue and audience.

The look
Costume, make up, hair and jewelry, look at the visual the dancer has put together.
  • Is the image authentic or suited to the style? If so how? 
  • If there are unconventional elements, do they work in your opinion? Why?
  • How does the costume and make up reflect the audience and setting?
  • How does the aesthetic compliment the mood or message of the dance?
  • Does the dancer use their costume for artistic effect, or dance in a way that shows off the costume?
The setting
What is the dance space like? Small restaurant or large theatre? Is the dancer on a raised stage or on the same level as the audience?
  • How does the setting affect the relationship between the dancer and the audience?
  • Does the dancer use the setting to its full advantage?
  • What does the dancer do to overcome the limitations of the venue?
  • How does the dancer move into the dance space?
  • How do they use stage lighting to facilitate the entrance and mood?
  • Do they use all the dance space available?
The presence
Stage presence is key to how a performance comes across, but it can appear quite intangible when you are trying to cultivate it yourself.
  • Does the dancer hold your attention, and that of the audience?
  • Can you identify something that makes them compelling to watch?
  • How would you classify their on-stage persona, dramatic, flirtatious, friendly, intimidating?
  • What do they do to reinforce your impression of their persona?
  • Do they interact with the audience, even subtly? How?
  • Are they unable to interact with the audience, if so, how do they keep a connection?
  • If there is a band, how does the dancer interact with them?

Style

If you are working on a particular style of Middle Eastern dance, like Saiidi, Melaya Leff or Khallegi it is worth watching a range of performances to see how the style can be interpreted. The same goes in fact for all categories of bellydance.
  • What style is the dance in?
  • Is it true to the tradition of the style?
  • How does the music choice reflect the dance style?
  • What elements of the convention of this style have they incorporated?
  • What have they done that is innovative?
  • How do they convey their personality or individuality within the framework of this style?

Musicality

  • How does their music choice reflect the style of dance they are portraying?
  • Which part/parts of the music are they dancing to?
  • Do they respond more to the rhythms, the melody, or mix it up?
  • Does the choreography fit a beat count? Obviously so? Or is it more fluid?
  • How do they interpret strong accents? Every time? Which movements? Which is more effective?
  • On what part of your body do you see the music interpreted? Is this consistent or varied?
  • How do they dance to repeated phrases? In the same way, a similar way, or completely differently?
  • Are there times when the dancer does something “unexpected”, like dances slow to a fast section of music? What effect does this have?

Structure

  • Is the piece choreographed or improvised?
  • Are there repeated sections in the choreography? How do you enjoy these as an audience?
  • How does the dancer use stillness or poses in their dance?
  • Is there a story or journey being conveyed through the dance
  • How does the dancer use the performance space? 
  • Are there any major shifts in mood or style? How are these handled?
  • How does the dancer deal with getting on and off stage?
  • Are there changes of dancer or group within the performance? How are these carried off smoothly?
  • What range of techniques does the dancer use? Are there lots of different steps, or a smaller number? What is the proportion of simpler movements to challenging ones? 
  • How does it finish? Is there a false finish (such as a change to a new music track), how does the dancer differentiate between these and the true finale?

The technical bit

I remember watching a gorgeous dance by Frank Farinaro, and exclaiming to myself out loud “what WAS that, it was BEAUTIFUL”. So when I had finished the first viewing, I rewatched that section and identified the step, it was a fairly commonplace layer, but travelling on a turn in such a way that it looked so fluid and otherworldly.

If you are working on, perhaps, your arms, watch the video through, concentrating on what the dancer does with their arms. What do you like about how they use them? The same could go for hipwork, footwork or facial expressions. Concentrate on one aspect at a time and you will process it better.

Sometimes you will see a movement, or a combination that you love, so why not break it down and work out what they are doing.

Even if you don’t like the dance as a whole, the dancers persona or even the style of dance, you may well find a gorgeous snippet that you can learn and remodel into something that you can incorporate into your own dance. Changing the timing, the emphasis or the size of the movement can make it into something completely new.

Watch the section a few times over.
  • Observe where the feet are falling. Does the step travel, turn or otherwise? Does it need to?
  • Is the movement sharp or smooth, which parts are moving and which are still?
  • Which plane are the hips/torso etc moving in? Is that a horizontal or a vertical 8?
  • What are the possible ways the movement could be generated? A hip movement could be driven by the obliques, legs, glutes or some combination of the 3. Can you tell from the movement? Does it make any difference (if there are layers it likely will)?
  • If you are looking at a series of steps, how does the dancer transition from one to the next?
Hopefully this has given you some ideas that will improve the value you get out of watching dance performances on video. It's just a starting point, I am sure there are many things I have missed, but I am also sure that you will discover all kinds of benefits from watching and properly reflecting upon dance videos, once you get started. Don't forget to do some actual dancing inbetween! 



Saturday, 25 October 2014

Getting even better at bellydance

Part 4 - Steepening the learning curve.


So far we have looked at how your regular practice can help make you a better dancer, but what happens when that isn't hitting the spot?

Every dancer finds that they learn in fits and starts. It seems to be really hard for a bit, then you get it, then it feels easy, then it feels like you are coasting. You can sit in that happy place where the dance feels easy and you are learning few new elements. It's a good thing to do so sometimes, consolidate, let things stew, put some polish on it. After a while though, you will get the itch, the dissatisfaction that says you could do more, or just a touch of boredom because you want to do something new.

Breaking out of those plateaus means a change of approach, so lets look at what you could do.

1. Inspirational education

Plateau or no plateau, I think every dancer needs to have their dance training peppered with different experiences to keep things fresh.

Take a workshop. Lots of dance teachers regularly invite other dancers to come and teach workshops, often as a precursor to a hafla or show. Last year I invited Gwen Booth over for a workshop and hafla, this year we hosted Michelle Manx. I do this because I recognise that even though I am a scintillating teacher, something different, a different style, a different teaching approach, can really inspire student dancers. That builds strength and enthusiasm in the dance community and it is great for everyone.

Keep your ear to the ground, get on mailing lists, find out who is coming to your area, or travel to another area and make new dance friends.

If you are really up for a kick in the dance motivation place, then book into a festival. Do it anyway, I always go to at least one a year, more if I can. Majma is one of my regular favourites, I attended my 6th Majma this year, but they happen all over the country. Some are mixed styles, some focus on particular styles, some are like a little holiday with dancing. Whatever you choose, I can guarantee that you will come away brimming with new ideas, new things to practice and loving the dance more. At some point soon I will write a whole blog on making the most of festivals.

Speaking of holidays, there are also dancers who run overseas dance excursions, often to the Middle East where you can learn from the greats on their home soil. If you are stuck for inspiration, that has to be a way to find it.

So there it is, whether it's a £15 workshop or a £500 holiday, learning from a new source is a great way to get out of a dance rut.

2. Get focussed feedback

Feedback from teachers and other dancers can be an invaluable way to add a new perspective on your dance training.

You could take a private lesson with your regular teacher, or any other teacher. A private lesson means that you can concentrate on exactly what you need to be working on, and you get 100% of your teachers' attention. This can feel a little daunting, but a good teacher will put you at ease and soon you will just be focussing on working hard. In my experience a private lesson will leave me with enough material to keep me busy practising for several months.

If you are going to a workshop and would like to get some extra mileage and personalised training, you can ask if the teacher is available for privates while you are there. Some teachers even offer tuition via Skype, meaning you can train with teachers from all around the world.

Another option for getting feedback is to ask other dancers to appraise your dancing, usually in video form. There are a variety of online forums such as Bhuz, or specific groups on Facebook where many knowledgeable dancers are prepared to cast an eye over videos and give you pointers.

3. Set yourself challenges

I find that I work harder when I have something to work towards. You could book yourself in to perform at a hafla, or if you are feeling brave, a competition. If that feels like a big step, then how about preparing a piece just to show your teacher or class?

Sometimes it's fun to set a creative challenge, perhaps just a minute of dance a week, on a series of themes, video them and watch them back. Try doing short samples of different styles, different moods, try things you wouldn't usually dance, take yourself out of your comfort zone. You might surprise yourself.

Smaller challenges you could try might be mastering a new step every week or completing a set of drills on a regular basis. Give yourself a target and work hard at it.

4. Try something new

Sometimes taking yourself out of the pressure cooker is just what you need to relax into yourself and find your inspiration.

Recently I started attending a new dance class. I initially trained in Egyptian Classical Oriental style, and I have done quite a lot of Tribal Fusion, I teach both, but I had never trained in ATS, apart from a couple of workshops which I really enjoyed. ATS is at the roots of Tribal Fusion, and I like to know about roots. I came across my nearest Fat Chance Belly Dance Sister Studio, Kalash Tribal, at a hafla in Somerset, so I took the plunge and decided to go to class.

I know that I am not going to be performing this style anytime soon, much less teach it, and as a result I feel freed up to be a beginner. I am really enjoying the challenge of a sudden, steep learning curve, and the freedom to make mistakes, or to not get something straight away, because I am the newbie here.

As a result going to this class has given me a new drive and a new sense of joy in my dance, I really can dance like no one is watching. But I am still dancing, I am still keeping fit, the movements will creep into my Tribal Fusion, and will make it better, deeper. I am also being forced to play zills while I dance, which is great, because I always find excuses not to drill with zills when I am on my own!

So why not take some folkloric classes to inform your Orientale? Or adult ballet? Or Streetdance for the fusionistas? Put yourself back in beginner's shoes and fall in love with dancing all over again, with no pressure.

I hope this has given you some ideas for when you feel ready to launch your dance up another level. Remember this is all about inspiration and fun, it's the exciting new discoveries that keep the fire in your belly and the passion in your dance.

Wednesday, 20 August 2014

Getting good at bellydance, good habits.

Part 3 - The daily grind.

In my first installment of this series we looked at how you can set yourself up for a fulfilling and productive bellydance journey with a great mindset and a resilient attitude. In this post, I am going to look at the practical measures you can take, to help you fulfil your dance potential.

For the most part, consistency and dedication are the cornerstones of your dance progression. Intensive study can be great, we will look at that in the next instalment, but nothing beats regular tuition and practice. So let's see what that might look like.

Regular bellydance classes.

The benefits of attending a good regular class are enormous, and I am not just saying that because I teach them! Choose the right class for you and you will be getting a regular lift, physically and psychologically, you will make friends and get to explore the world of bellydance with expert guidance.

There is something very useful about having an outside influence decide what you are going to dance today, it saves us from getting into the rut where we only dance the steps and styles we like best. Ideally your teacher will also be following some kind of progression, so simply turning up will take you on a good, structured and targeted learning pathway.

Go to as many classes are you can afford to. When I started I did 3 classes a week! If you have other considerations outside dance in your life, you might not go that mad, but make it regular, even once a fortnight is better than nothing, or an unpredictable schedule - it is too easy to fall out of the habit if you don't make it a regular priority.

Get the right class for you

Choosing your class depends on how you like to dance, how you like to learn and what you would like to get out of your dance. Some classes are about getting stuck in and moving. This is great for the social aspect, and for gently improving your fitness. If you want to improve your dance repertoire, or become a technically better dancer, you probably need to look for a class that has a more technical focus, at least for some of the time.

One of the biggest reasons a live class with a good teacher is so good for your dance progress, is feedback. A good teacher will help you adjust your technique, not just to make it aesthetically better, but also to make movements safer, more comfortable and more efficient (which helps enormously when you start layering them). This is vital, because every body is different, and even very experienced dancers are often blind to, or can't see a way out of small, but influential, issues in their technique. Feedback can be very individual, I like to do the rounds of a group to give each dancer a couple of adjustments, but it might also be general. I never call out an individual in a group class, but I might spot an issue with one dancer, and advise the class as a whole to "watch out for..." because often that helps the other students too.

A smaller class means that you will get more of your teacher's time and attention, and s/he will be watching you more in order to give you better tips - this might feel a little daunting at first, but you get used to it, honest!

Finally, you have to enjoy your class. You are going to be there every week, possibly more, so the format, teaching style, personalities, music etc. have got to work for you, don't be afraid to shop around a bit, which brings me to....

Mix it up a bit

I always encourage my students to take up opportunities to dance with other teachers, and I am a little suspicious of those who don't. It is wise to stick with the same style while you are a beginner, as there are differences in posture and technique that can be confusing until you are competent in one or the other. Some teachers use different terms, but you will learn quickly what they are referring to. I have had students who dance with both myself, and another teacher on a regular basis, and find our classes complemented each other.

Even with the same teacher you might have the opportunity to take separate classes for technique, choreography, and conditioning. Mixing up your tuition, whilst keeping an anchor in a regular class, makes you a more rounded dancer.

Doing your homework

If going to your dance class is your brief, weekly escape, then there is nothing wrong with turning up, dancing and forgetting about it for the week, however, if you want to make good progress you need to be practising in between times. There are a few ways you can go about this, and again, I suggest you mix it up.

Do the stuff you did in class.

Take notes. Not reams of notes, you are in class to dance, not write. At the end, make a quick list of the things you did, just to remind you. Then over the next few days, pop some music on, and practice the techniques or combinations you learned.

Drill 

Pick some random steps. Roll back through your notes and choose something from a class a couple of months back, use my awesome drill generator, or use a DVD, and practice until your movements are stronger, cleaner, bigger and generally more awesome. One key thing though, is to make sure you have the technique down before you start drilling, ask your teacher to check, because drilling will write the movement into your muscle memory and you don't want to end up retaining a wrong move!

My favourite drill DVDs are Aziza's Ultimate Practice Companion (which sadly is quite hard to get ahold of now) and Michelle Joyce's Drills Drills Drills (which has finger cymbal drills too). I'd recommend checking onto Raqs TV for affordable streaming rental of dance practice videos, and you can also try out some of Michelle's DVDs on there. If you are a tribal dancer, Rachel Brice's Daily Dose session on Datura Online are a good, concentrated practice.

These sessions are generally fairly long and I know that it can be hard to fit dance practice in around family, work and other commitments, but you can always sneak in a little bit now and again....

Incidental dancing

What do you do while you are waiting for the microwave to ping, or the kettle to boil? How do you pass the time while you are on hold on the phone?

Dance. Dance all the time. Can you keep up a strong shimmy for as long as it takes the kettle to boil? What about a shimmy en releve? Did you just get up and walk when the doorbell rang? I didn't. I did a hagalla, or a travelling shimmy. In traffic jams I belly pop and beat out zill rhythms on the steering wheel. My babies have been shimmied and horizontal eighted to sleep.

How can you fit dance into your day today?

You're never too good for the basics.

It can be really tempting to keep pushing for bigger and better, fancier things. The sense of achievement from getting the hang of a tricky step is such a rush, but never forget your roots.

Keep drilling the basic, fundamental movements, do them slowly, do them in different poses, keep it precise. Good foundations will improve your dancing as a whole, but if sloppiness creeps in, that will show too.

Your regular class should be challenging, but it is an excellent exercise to visit a foundation level class fairly regularly too. I like to take beginner classes with other teachers, to hear how they break down the movements. You will always pick something new up.

Getting dance fit

Bellydance is a workout in itself, cardio, strength, flexibility, core control, plyometrics - it's all there! You can get fit for dance by just dancing, drilling moves makes you stronger and more flexible, the move gets better.

If you want a short-cut, targeted conditioning can really help by boosting your strength, control and flexibility in the right areas. For instance, if you are working on level changes, a good squat routine will give you a real boost. Many bellydancers teach classes, or have produced workout DVDs, specifically for bellydance conditioning. Datura Online has some really effective, and time efficient, conditioning videos that you can hire for a while to get that fitness boost. Or you could just join up to a regular fitness class that you enjoy.

My preference for dance conditioning is Vinyasa flow yoga and pilates. I didn't really enjoy fitness before I began dancing, but finding what works for me, and seeing how the results impact my dance has been really motivating.

Listen to the music

Arabic dance is all about musical interpretation, and all good bellydancers have a good ear for Arabic music. You can study the theory behind the music if you like, it is fascinating, but absorbing and quite hefty. I found the best way to become attuned to Arabic music is to listen to it. A lot.

To the Western ear, Middle Eastern sounds are a little alien, and sometimes jarring. It takes a while to learn to love the mizmar! I started with softer, popular music and Western fusion from easily accessible compilations, then gradually introduced more complex and challenging music as I became attuned to it. I am building music playlists for my students, one for general music theory and notable songs, one for some of the easier music I use in class. I also have some recommended compilations on the Amazon store on my site.

Listen to the music all the time, in the car, while you are washing up, let it seep into your brain quietly. Over time you will absorb the rhythms, without knowing what they are called, you will start to dance to fit those patterns because they will become familiar to you. The same goes for the phrasing and melody, the predictable structure of the music, you start to anticipate the direction of music you have never heard before, because you unconsciously recognise the pattern.

Dance too. Just throw on any track at random and see what you can do. Don't worry what it looks like, just feel the music and see what your body wants to do.

Musicality is a crucial part of a bellydancer's toolkit, and I believe it is most efficiently gained by immersing oneself in the music on an everyday basis.



So that's that. This is by no means comprehensive, and I am sure there will be dancers who feel that I have left things out, or included things that they did not find helpful, but I hope this gives you some ideas, and a little insight into the measures that I have found helpful in my own dance journey.