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.
A decade or so ago, when I was first taking note of the world of bellydance and its "politics" I heard of the Tribal/Cabaret divide. You see apparently there were "Cabaret" dancers ("traditional", oriental, raqs sharqui - many consider "Cabaret" to be an inappropriate or derogatory label), who were Barbie dolls in sequin 2 pieces who were bubbly and flirtatious; then there were the Tribal girls, who were goths in too much kuchi who were culturally inauthentic and weird.
Neither group seemed to like the other very much or have much respect for what they were doing.
Now, I am not sure whether this divide has diminished, whether it never really existed apart from in the minds of a few vociferous individuals online or if I am just surrounded by the most awesome community of dancers who are wonderful and supportive of each other; but the truth is, that I don't really encounter it so often anymore. Occasionally I come across the misconceptions and sadly it seems to be the newcomers and visitors to our world who are exposed to them.
A well respected dancer commented on a discussion a few months ago, about writing a piece comparing Oriental and ATS (American Tribal Style) to help beginners understand the differences. She listed some possible ideas for differences. Almost all were not very flattering to ATS and every one was over simplified, over generalised or just inaccurate.When pointed this out, and suggested that there were differences between American Cabaret, Modern Egyptian and Turkish Oriental styles that were just as pronounced, she suggested I wrote my own piece. So here it is.
I suspect it will be controversial in places, I can live with that.
I'm not going to write a straight comparison that says one style is always this while the other is always that, because that would not do justice to the dances, the dancers, or you as readers. I am going to start though, with some of the misconceptions:
There is no musicality in ATS
Erm, nope. Slow ATS can be dripping with musicality and expression. Fast ATS steps tend to follow the beat rather than the melody, however, even I, as a very clumsy beginner in this style, can recognise that a good lead will choose steps that fit the music and there is real skill in having a group of dancers improvise in a way that really works with the music. It's one of those things which appears effortless when it is done right, but obviously jarring when it misses the mark.
Cabaret dancers don't learn precise technique
A dancer once said this to me, knowing that I have a background in Egyptian Oriental. It surprised me to the point that my only response was "erm, no....". It probably should have been "have you heard of Aziza?". I have spent as much time breaking down and drilling techniques, from the basics up, with Oriental style teachers as with Tribal Fusion teachers.
It is true that there are bellydance teachers who don't break down or correct technique, and expect their students to follow them and dance along. Some of these classes are fun and informal, some a poor value and unhealthy. Before the Tribal styles became popular, it stands to reason that these would have all been "cabaret" style classes. Times have moved on, classes like this exist in all styles now, it's the teachers, not the dance style. I don't teach like this because I feel it creates a ceiling, where the serious dancer will stop progressing and have to go right back to basics before they can reach a mid-improver to intermediate standard.
Tribal Fusion dancers only dance to Western music
They dance to any music they choose! That is the joy of fusion, could come from one origin, or the other, or both. There are many Tribal Fusion dancers who perform to Middle Eastern music (often in a folkloric style).
ATS dancers don't engage the audience, are haughty or never smile.
None of these are absolute truths. Again, this is something you may see from individuals or groups, but it is not a universal rule for the style.
Check out all these happy faces:
There are immense technical differences that make it impossible to dance multiple styles well
The big one here is posture. Tribal dancers bend their knees deeply and hyperlift their chests in a posture that is very stylised and different from that of Oriental dancers. Tribal dancers also dance with flat feet while folkloric MENA dances are also flatfooted, but the stage versions are danced on the balls of the feet.
That last paragraph was not true.
Last summer I was lucky enough to take an ATS class with Kristine Adams - A teacher from the FCBD mother studio who is currently travelling the world like an ATS missionary, putting us all to rights. We spent a lot of time on posture. She pointed out that the stereotyped ultra high chest is not good form, and not part of the FCBD ATS canon. With the chest too high, you can't properly execute chest movements and it also leads to a swayback which is a whole pandora's box of not OK. Knees too, soft, not straight, not bent by default. As she broke down and corrected everyone's posture it became very clear to me that this posture was actually no different to good, safe, basic posture as taught by any good Raqs Sharqui teacher. Arm positions are different, and that gives a different look to the body, but the alignment of the pelvis and spine has to be healthy, in any style.
This is an issue close to my heart, because for years I have had Oriental teachers tell me that I am a "tribal dancer" (when in reality, I was an Oriental dancer first, and have much more training in that style). Several teacher wrote off issues with my posture as a result of me cross training with Tribal styles and adopting "Tribal posture".
They were wrong. I realised during an extremely geeky practice session, where I spent around 2 hours examining my posture in various moves, that I had a problem keeping my pelvis neutral when my legs were straightish (i.e. soft knees). I had to bend my knees to drop my tail down. This is not a result of tribal training. I spent a lot of time stretching my hip flexors, my lower back, lying on the floor, standing up against the wall, engaging various muscles, and then I saw a physio. It turned out that my legs were slightly inwardly rotated, you can't see it, my knees weren't knocking, my legs looked fine, but the angle of my hip in the socket was preventing my pelvis from dropping into neutral. It's a combination of femoral torsion (bone confirmation, not correctable) and weak hip rotators (correctable, thanks Mme physio).
I said it was geeky.
Anyhow, the outcome of this story is that I corrected my posture issue, well it's a work in progress, and I started looking more carefully at how my students were standing too, because it's very easy to get "lazy" and let your gluteus medius take over the job of the small hip rotators and mess up your pelvic alignment. The moral is that it's also very easy to "blame" your students' issues on something you don't understand.
So getting down to it, are there many differences in the fundamentals of Tribal Fusion and "Cabaret"? In my book, not so many. I would say there is a crossover of about 80%. There are major differences in stylisation, aesthetic, which moves are used more heavily than others etc, but when it comes down to how movements are executed, notsomuch. I know I'm not alone in this, because of the number of times I have seen an Oriental teacher suggest Rachel Brice's Tribal Fusion DVD as a good beginners' drill option.
So how do we explain the difference to our newbies?
It's difficult to condense the nuances of different bellydance styles into a short statement which is accurate, fair and accessible to the new dancer. Sometimes as teachers and ambassadors for bellydance, we have to do this and when we do, the most important thing is to be straightforward, and to try and put aside bias or personal agendas. I keep YouTube playlists with examples of different dance styles for my students to refer to, because a 4 minute video can communicate the essence of a dance far more clearly than any worded explanation.
It's also really important as a teacher to understand and admit to our limitations. If you haven't trained beyond beginner level in a style, you can't be expected to speak as an expert on it. As a secondary school teacher I have learned that there is very limited, negative even, educational value in bluffing your way through a question you can't really answer. There is a lot of educational value in saying:
"I'm sorry, that is beyond my field of expertise, but I am so glad to see you being inspired by this; why don't you find out more, then share it with us next time we meet - here is a good place to start"
The Jerry Springer moment...
The more I learn and understand about different styles, following the threads back to their origins, exploring the family tree of bellydance, dancing different styles and getting right down to the nitty gritty, the more I suspect that the divides in our community are not about technique. Perhaps they are not even stylistic or even about values or cultural interest. I think much of what divides us is tribal. Not Tribal bellydance tribal. The natural, deep seated need to belong to a strong, supportive community, the natural competitive urge between tribes and exclusion of that which "does not belong".
I would love to see less examples of how different we are from each other, and more celebration of our common ground. We are a small community of people who are passionate about bellydance. We might have different aesthetics, different artistic ideas or priorities, but we have more in common than we often admit.
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!
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.
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.
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.
Dance is a language, it is a way of communicating through movement and gesture, the most basic and primal of our communication pathways.
Learning dance techniques, gives us *our* language, it allows us to expand our vocabulary, weave together ideas, emotions, to tell our own stories.
This is why I believe teaching good technique, along with the ability to string together movements, improvise and create your own choreographies is so important. This is why I teach it from the very beginning, and why I refuse to take shortcuts.
When you tell your story, you don't want to mumble, you want to be clear and articulate.
When you tell your story, you don't want to have to rely on other people's phrases, or perspective.
When you tell your story, you should be free, not caged by unnecessary technical limitations.
Public speakers, actors and singers do voice exercises, dancers drill.
I know that it can be a slog, working hard at the techniques until they are right, it can take years to get out of the beginner phase. Part of the reason why I teach in the Concepts and Context format, is to break out of the potential teaching rut, where every class is a similar pattern of learning and drilling 2-3 new moves, and sometimes combinations. I try to bring in musicality, improvisation, different moods and styles, to actually dance, every lesson; but it is all held on a foundation of strong technique.
It's possible to get by with a phrasebook, but it is only by sticking at it, by learning the vocab, the grammar, the subtle nuances and wordplays, that you can write poetry.
A man ceases to be a beginner in any given science and becomes a master in that science when he has learned that he is going to be a beginner all his life. Robin G. Collingwood
When I started dancing, I was told that it was usual to be at beginner level in bellydance for around 2 years. At the time that seemed immensely limiting. I wanted to be good! I wanted to be doing all the fancy flashy steps and being awesome like the dancers who inspired me to learn. Graduating from the beginner group felt like a great achievement, and I felt glad to be leaving my "baby dancer" days behind.
Now it is true that I do very much enjoy the flashy stuff, but I have gained a greater appreciation of the basics of the dance, and quite how much work there is to do there.
Simplicity can be beautiful, and challenging.
Watch some videos of great dancers in the history of Raqs and take note of how "technically simple" their dance is. Try this one for size, and try not to get too distracted wondering what is going on with that skirt:
There is something special here, the moves here aren't hard, but this dance isn't basic. There is a quality to her movement that means that even in a simple figure 8, you can see she is a great dancer. You can learn to execute a figure 8 in under an hour, but not like that. Her musicality while we are here, is soft, effortless but skilled.
My favourite dancers to watch are not those who can layer 6 movements on top of each other, hitting every accent and choreographing every facial expression, my favourite dancers are those who can captivate me with a hip drop, who turn the music into a visual that moves me. Dance is a language, having something to say and making yourself understood is more important to me than a huge and complex vocabulary.
Technique must be mastered only because the body must not stand in the way of the soul’s expression - La Meri
The foundations are just that, everything is built upon the basics.
If you work on your basic movements, get them really strong, really controlled, improve your range, your flexibilty; that will show through when you start layering, travelling, compounding those movements.
In addition, when the technique becomes second nature, only then does adding on the musicality, stage presence and subtle nuances become really possible.
There is always more work to do, no dance step will ever be perfect
I often go back to beginners' classes. I might be going to another teacher, to see what they offer or to learn from their teaching methods. It might be digging through my dance DVDs and working through an instructional I haven't tried in years, or on a day when I don't feel up to much, going for something easy on Datura Online. Every time I learn something new. Every time I find ways to make it challenging.
For example, a few days ago I was feeling a bit indifferent, but I knew I needed to fit some practice in, so I chose a 30 minute shimmy lesson. About half of the content was very similar to the drills that I do at least a couple of times a week, but sometimes having a virtual teacher helps to bring out that extra bit of effort.
I didn't have to think about how long I had been drilling for, or what to do next, because the instructor was doing that, so instead I focused on something I had been working on elsewhere - the engagement of my deep lower abs in my dance posture. I realised that in doing this, concentrating on maintaining optimum posture in the shimmy, the weight changes and the layers, I was working really hard, and learning loads. This was not just a basic move I know well, but one of my best, and I realised there is still a lot of work and refinement I can do.
I have found in dance, as with many other things in life, that the more I study and the better I get, the better I can see how much more study and practice there is ahead. So it's a good job I like dancing really.
My advice to other dancers would be that no matter how good you are, how long you have studied, keep going back to the basics. Not just drilling on your own, or teaching them to your students, but taking classes, getting feedback, listening to how other dancers break down the technique. If you find you aren't working very hard, take a look at your posture, or your breathing; break the movement up even more, go slower and feel every muscle controlling the movement. Make it sharper, make it smoother. Use your core muscles to make it deep and internal, test your flexibility and make it bigger.
When I describe my "Fundamentals" course, I always say it is not just for new dancers, or dancers who are new to me, but something that any student at any level would benefit from attending. Going back to those classes at a later level, you have a head start on getting right into the guts of the movements. Taking time to explore the most basic foundations of the dance will always serve you well.
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!
I've just been teaching veil work, and once again, I'm harping on about how arm movements start from the back.
I like to talk about "energy" and originating the energy from your "centre" (a point in the middle of your pelvis, at a height half-way between your pubic bone and your navel) moving that energy up the spine, through the back muscles, and out through the fingertips.
It's all a bit airy fairy and artsy. That's OK, I'm an artist, I get to be artsy.
Sometimes I call the "energy" "intention". It's not the literal tensing of muscles, it is a confident relaxed feeling that the muscle is there, ready to do your bidding.
I have a little secret to share though, it's not really all artsy at all. We are going to have a bit of a delve into the anatomy that I don't really cover in lessons, as frankly, my dance students aren't there to learn anatomy (if you would like to learn anatomy though, I do tutor, contact me for my rates...)
Take a look at these lovely anatomical images.
Yes, I love anatomical images, because I am also an anatomist.
See in the top one. Can you see how the bones of your arm and shoulder attack to the bones of your "body"? They barely do. The only bone that joins your arm to your torso is that skinny little clavicle, lightly kissing the sternum. It might as well not bother. The clavicle doesn't carry weight, or move the arm, it's just there for stability. Four-legged running types don't even have a clavicle.
So take a look at the bottom one. Meaty huh? All that muscle on your back? That's what keeps your arms on. That's what bears the load, and that is what makes the movement.
OK, so I expect that those of you who don't enjoy looking a drawings of dead people as much as I do probably would like a point. So here it is:
When you hold your arms in basic dance positions, they are supported by the large muscles in your back. Mostly the trapezius (the bright red one). That is where the strain is. If you are trying to use your arm muscles to hold your posture, it will ache, your muscles will tense, you will end up looking like a chicken. Chickens don't bellydance. It's sad, I know, but we can get past that, you are not a chicken, so you can. Consciously bear the weight of your arms with your upper back. Instant improvement.
When you move your arms, again it is those muscles on your back making it happen (they have some friends in other places, but they do plenty of the work). Much like when you move your fingers it is the muscles in your lower arm working. If you envisage the movement starting at the shoulder, you create an artificial disconnect. Reach from your spine, let the movement flow out and down through to your fingertips. Isolate when you need to, but sweeping, fluid arm movements, involve the torso too.
