The ever expanding rider of a professional bellydancer - contracts and clauses

When I started out as a new dancer, I joined an online forum called Bhuz, where bellydancers gathered to chat, to exchange information and to learn. Bhuz had a whole section about professional and legal issues, and at the time it seemed kind of ridiculous that turning up and dancing should involve contracts and all kinds of legal wrangling. After all, you show up, you dance, they pay you, everyone's happy. Right?

Oh poor naive past me. What she had to learn....

After hearing lots of horror stories, I realised that it was necessary to have a contract. Too many dancers were being cancelled last minute, without having taken a deposit, or even sent home from a gig (after or without performing) without full payment for various reasons. A lot goes into preparing even a short performance, so losing the gig fee is fairly devastating.

I started out with a cut down version of Michelle Joyce's sample contract. My contract looks a little less formal, because I send it out very early in my conversation with a new client and I wanted a "friendly" approach.

However, as time, and shows, have passed, my contract has grown. For the most part because I have discovered that things that seem basic and obvious to me as a dancer, don't always occur to the client, but also because of some ridiculous, and often hilarious positions that I have found myself in.

This post is a brief compilation of some of those additions, based on the experiences of myself, and other dancers I know. Some details are changed to protect the innocent.

The monies

On the Bhuz pages, it was always the money side that caused the most issues. Common problems include being asked to reduce the fee for various reasons, some of my favourites on the bellydance grapevine:

• "it's my birthday"
• "It's only half an hour"
• "not everyone likes bellydance"
• "it's fun for you"
• "it will be great exposure"

I used to be shy about stating my fee, but now I make it very clear at the outset. Some people will be put off, but they will be put off whenever they find out the price, so let's not waste anybody's time. An easy mistake to make when starting out is not wanting to "put off" potential customers, but it really is OK to let an enquirer know if it's not going to work for you.

Deposits. Again, my serious clients have never taken issue with a deposit to secure the booking. It's important because you can end up turning down work because you are already booked, then being cancelled at the last minute. 

Workshop teaching has a whole different pricing structure. While I generally quote a flat fee, it has become increasingly common within the dance community for teachers to work for a percentage of the class takings. At best, it means you can earn slightly more for a popular class. At worst it means that the host is protected from making an unaffordable loss - many workshops just wouldn't happen in the UK right now otherwise, the risk is just too great for the host.

Most of the time it works out just fine, because dance teachers aren't generally out to fleece each other; hosts tend to work very hard to populate classes, and if they can't they tend to be honest and cancel. But there was an occasion where I offered this pricing structure to an "outside" client, who then did not publicise the class, or tell me that there were only two participants, and I lost a lot of money on expenses. Because of this I now include a clause for a minimum number of participants, or a minimum fee.

Changing space.

Almost every dancer I know, who has performed at some point - whether as a pro or a student has encountered this one.

A brief rundown of the top 5 changing spaces:

• A food storage cupboard in a restaurant
• The back of a van with no internal light
• A tent with no standing room.
• A single toilet cubicle, which was the only toilet for the venue.
• A shower room with a wet floor.

From a dancer's perspective: Most bellydance costumes are not travel friendly. They have fringe, heavy beading, delicate crystals. They are not designed for being sat on. They are also generally difficult to wash so we want to wear them for as short a period as possible and not anywhere that the hem might be soiled on the ground. They are also complex to get into, we need space and we don't want to drop the end of our belt in a puddle. Even the skimpiest costume often involves a lot of layers, fastenings and pins. And we need light, and preferably a mirror. We know this can be a tough call for some venues, but if it really is impossible to provide a decent changing space, it's best that we know in advance so we can work with that and arrive partially dressed at least - and it might mean that there is no costume change between sets.

Show timings

My terms always state when I will arrive, when I will leave and how long I will dance in between. I often get people asking me to dance for an unrealistic period - like 2 hours straight.

Dancing, full tilt, registers on my Fitbit as an Aerobic workout, but I have to do that without appearing to exert myself excessively. Because nobody likes a bellydancer dripping in sweat and heaving for breath over their dinner. Most dancers consider 20-30 minutes to be a reasonable set length. 

While it might be possible to tone it down and dance for longer, most Western audiences couldn't really handle that. We don't really have a culture where people are comfortable sitting back and being lightly entertained, we want big, in your face... until our concentration span runs out. 

The time window is also important. Firstly because, as Michelle puts in her contract, often a performer has other gigs to get to, so it's not acceptable to postpone the performance at the last minute.Or maybe you need to get home to a babysitter, or before you turn into a pumpkin. Another issue that seems common for festivals and conventions, is that they expect all the team to be on site for the duration. This means that you might get paid for an hour of your time, but you lose 6 hours of your day. That might be OK if the event is of interest to you, and you get to spend the day watching bands or perusing interesting merchandise, but if you are going to be losing the opportunity to work elsewhere, then it is reasonable to charge a waiting fee for your on-site time.

Show content

It's really important that clients know what to expect from a show, I usually have videos and music samples, and that goes into the initial agreements so it's super clear.

A couple of other useful things....

"The show will be culturally sensitive" - which is a really nice way of saying "no, I'm not going to dress your uncle up as a "harem girl" and teach him a dance to humiliate him, but I will gladly do some audience participation that is respectful of the culture I am representing"

"I will choose who to invite for audience participation". I stole this from another dancer. While sometimes it's cool to be asking the guest of honour up to dance, it's preferable and "safer" for the performer to choose participants herself. Then she can choose people who look keen (because embarrassing people isn't usually actually fun) and avoid people who might cause issues (like the guy who strips off his shirt and wants to rub up against her while she dances. This has happened to dancers I know. It's gross and unacceptable).

"The show will be family friendly". This eliminates some of the wierd preconceptions some people still have about bellydance and sexuality. 

On a related note, here is the moment for a story from a friend of mine who is a burlesque dancer. She and a colleague were booked to perform at a corporate event. The organiser came to see them just before, in the dressing room and said "just to be sure, you're not going to be doing anything *too risque* are you?". Well. The problem is, that they were. As strip tease artists, that was exactly what they had planned, and while they had alternate acts in their repertoire, they hadn't brought the costumes and props for those. It seems the client had booked performers who were known to be good at what they do, without properly checking what it was that they do.

Often our clients aren't used to booking performers, and they don't know what questions to ask. The performers on the other hand are so used to what we do, that we often forget that some things aren't obvious to an outsider. This is why I like to keep it all written down in a standard document, that I can quickly customise and send out.

A safe space to dance

Another one for a list of ridiculousness, I have experienced....

• Wet tarmac
• A slope of about 30 degrees
• Deep sand
• A rolled lawn, which disguised uneven ground underneath (I broke a toe on a turn)
• Grass with thistles in it

Often an event organiser will think about space, but not think about the floor, which is the most important aspect of the performance space. The only way to overcome this is to be really prescriptive, and include the caveat that says you won't dance but will require payment if the area is unsafe. It sounds harsh, but it's not as harsh as losing a month's dance income due to injury and I've never had to follow through on this as clients tend to be brilliant once their attention is drawn to the right areas.

The green room

OK, so now we get into diva rider territory! I always put into my terms that I will require access to drinking water. It's easy to get stuck backstage, with nothing to drink and performing is a hydration heavy occupation. If there will be substantial gaps between my teaching or performance slots when I am expected to stay on site then I need a rest area (green room) with bathroom access etc. No peeled grapes and blue M&Ms, I promise. I just don't want to be left sitting on my suitcase in a corridor!

Tech requirements

This one is super important. Music is absolutely crucial to a dance performance and I cringe every time I hear the story of a dancer who had to dance to the client's playlist, to their phone speaker or nothing at all. I clear up the sound system requirements straight away and offer up my sound rig if they need it. Then I bring an MP3 player and a CD of just that set. I also bring cables to connect my MP3 player via phono, analog and USB. Then I put my Minirig in my bag. Just in case.

This isn't because I am super awesome, it's because I have had to run out for a new cable 10 minutes before a performance, or got to a venue and found their sound system is too quiet. Also there was a time when I decided to charge my iPod on my laptop, but it synced with iTunes and erased the playlist that I had compiled on the device. I only realised when I arrived at the venue and went to soundcheck. Always  soundcheck.

I also ask for someone to be on hand when I arrive and, if relevant, when the performance/class starts to help with tech setup (and if it's a class, registering etc). The story behind this came from an event where I had arrived first thing in the morning, but was teaching after lunch and inbetween times, the location of my class was changed. To a cinema. Which had no accessible music system. And was playing adult films. Clearly this is not an acceptable situation, and none of the organisers or support staff were anywhere to be found. I had to delay the class by 15 minutes while I ran around trying to find a tech person to sort it all out. So now my contract is set up so that sort of thing doesn't end up being my responsibility.

Finally, and probably most importantly.

When I started using contracts, and to an extent still, I felt awkward about it. I worry about sounding divaish with an extensive rider, or like I have no faith in the client's ability to host me appropriately. However, I have noticed a stark difference between how clients treat me when I provide a contract, vs when I don't. The more prescriptive my terms, the more willing people are to fall over themselves making sure everything is right for me, and the whole thing goes better for everyone.

Assuming that your client isn't an expert in bellydance performance (and that's a safe assumption, because that's your job), they can't be expected to understand the minutiae of what helps you to give your absolute best. They will assume, that you have it all in hand, which rightly they should, that's what they pay you for. So if there is something that you need from them, they are going to need you to let them know or assume you won't get it.

Often a client contacts me, not really knowing what to expect, they might have a idea about what I can do, but part of my job is often to say "that's great and I can accommodate that" (or "I'm afraid that's not going to be possible") "BUT, I can offer you this.... which has worked out really well for similar occasions in the past".

For this reason, I always submit a contract for every performance or teaching booking. It doesn't matter if it is a local fete or nursing home, a charity fundraiser where I am donating my fee, or a high end ball. Even when the client is someone I know well and trust. Because without fail, every time I have let things slip and failed to provide a comprehensive set of terms at the very outset, something has avoidably gone wrong.

Here's your Jerry Springer moment. When you don't bother with the paperwork, things usually turn out OK. Sometimes they go disastrously or hilariously wrong, but that is the exception - usually you can muddle through. Paperwork fixes the problems before they happen, but what it mostly does is makes it clear from the start that you are not a rank amateur, and sets expectations appropriately. When you do everything professionally, not just how you behave and present yourself to perform, but also how you set yourself up, from the start with all the official contracts, invoices etc, clients better recognise your value and are enabled to treat you better. Not only this, but it elevates the impression of our artform as a whole.

How long does it take to dance for 30 minutes?

I've found there's a real art to getting myself ready to go out and perform. Whether it is a hafla or a wedding reception, putting on a performance can be quite a palava!

Preparing the dance for a performance is a process in itself, from conception, to banging my head against the wall to meticulous rehearsal. But preparing to perform is about a whole load more than having the choreography polished.

Sometimes a potential client will ask me to perform at a reduced rate and only perform a single set, instead of two, or for 10 minutes rather than 20. In reality I can't offer much discount for this, because the part that people actually see is only the tip of the iceberg. Being performance ready involves continuous commitment (like drilling, conditioning and developing material) and a solid investment of time beforehand, specific to that gig.

As a professional performer I do believe it is necessary to have the ability to drop everything and dance at short notice. I always have costumes on the hanger, generic sets compiled and regularly rehearsed etc, so that if I get a last minute booking, or another dancer calls and asks me to cover for her, I can roll up with a few hours notice and put on a fabulous show. But from my own perspective, I know that I do my best work when I have had the opportunity to tailor my performance to the client, venue and audience. I also know I am in my best headspace for performance, and give my absolute best, when I can be totally confident that everything is in place and is going smoothly.

Recently I was making small talk with the mother of one of my childrens' friends. I told her what I did for a living and she was rather surprised, "I'd never have guessed" she said. "Yeah" says I "it takes quite a lot of work to turn me into a bellydancer"....

T - at least 1 week. Finalising the playlist.

 I'll usually check in with my client about now too, and confirm any music requests. Finalising a week in advance means that I can guarantee myself rehearsal time in a large studio to run the entire set (I have space booked for one session a week by default).

I will likely have rehearsed each track separately many times, but I think it is important to rehearse a whole set from start to finish at least a couple of times. That 6 minute drum solo might feel fine as a standalone piece, but can you still dance it with as much energy after performing 15 minutes of upbeat pop?

T- 2 days. Costume alteration time.

There's no point in doing this too early, because the fit on my costumes has to be exact and a tiny fluctuation in weight can be the difference between a good fit and a potential mishap. Sometimes I will be wearing a costume that I haven't worn for a year or so, and you can't just get those out of the wardrobe 3 hours before a performance and hope they will fit! 2 days is a good timeline to get it done, without it being too last minute and with time to buy in supplies if repairs are needed.

I make the vast majority of my costumes myself, and when I do, I keep adjustability in mind.

There's a balance to be set between the ease of getting into a costume and versatility in sizing - especially with costume bras. Some of my bras have long straps that are tied in a knot or bow, and reinforced with a safety pin. This makes them really adjustable, you can get the band and shoulder strap length spot on every time, but they have to be tied right; usually they need to be tied, left to settle, then adjusted. My modern Orientale style costume bras are usually based on the hard "Dina" bra bases. These tend to fasten with hooks (I use trouser hooks, which are bigger and stronger) they are great for quick changes but the hooks have to be taken off and resewn in order to adjust them.

When I make skirts or pantaloons I always make the waistband accessible and easily adjustable.

T- 24 hours - putting together the costumes

At this point I gather together all the separate components. I tend to store complete sets on the same hanger, but some items go with more than one costume. The complete costume might also include shoes, bodystockings, tights, hairbands/flowers. I also always include a cover up, because I almost always need one at some point. I always lay everything out before I pack it so I know exactly what I have and can pack it efficiently.

For most commercial bookings I will be dancing 2 sets, which means 2 full costumes, often with a change of accessories (I try to make them starkly different so I often change my hair and everything between sets).

T- 23 hours - packing the bag

THE BAG has consistent components that I will always need, and changable components. The night before a performance I will check the stocks on things like hairgrips and pack the costumes and props into the bag carefully. Once it's set to go I try not to interfere with it at all, in case I accidentally take something out and forget it. I'm quite particular like that.

I also always pack at least 2 copies of my music. Usually I have my ipod, my phone and a CD of the whole set. There are some things you just don't take chances on.

T - 3 hours, the final countdown

On the day of a performance I try and make sure I have a couple of hours before I have to leave set aside for getting ready. I try to give myself more than I need because rushing is the sort of thing that gets eyelashes glued to your ears.

First thing I do is eat. Something proteiny so it's filling but not stodgy. Dancing on a stodgy meal is not good. Sometimes when I perform at a restaurant they will offer me dinner, which is frankly awesome. The tough bit is waiting until after I have finished dancing to take them up on it.

There was also the time when I told my husband not to worry about me for dinner, because I was dancing later. He took that as meaning I wouldn't have time to eat, so he boxed up a whole homemade pizza for me. I had a 2 hour drive ahead of me with this pizza smelling amazing on the passenger seat. I planned to eat it on the way home. Most of it didn't make it that far.

So once I have eaten I will usually have a shower and start looking at getting ready proper. If I'm using my real hair, I will usually dry it at this point and set it in velcro rollers or large pin curls to keep it out of the way while I do my face.

T- 90 minutes - Beat that mug

I give myself an hour for stage makeup, it actually takes less, but various other things tend to be going on as well which I can't really quantify - like painting nails. Taking time to lay down a good base and contours makes all the difference in a solid, lasting look.

Things like false eyelashes need a steady hand and time to get right, it really is a case of more haste, less speed otherwise.

T-30 minutes - Hair

Hair is always the last thing I do before leaving the house. It usually involves messing around with some kind of hairpiece and loads of bobby pins.

T - 15 mins - clothes

I rarely travel to a gig in costume. Most of my costumes are not comfortable to travel in and many could potentially be damaged. They just aren't made for sitting in. They also aren't made for being chucked in the washing machine if I get splashed by a puddle or catch the skirt in the car door. I usually wear something like a jersey maxi dress that I can step into to avoid hair and make up issues.

Time to go!

Grab the gig bag and off I go!

Reflecting on the sword

Sword is one of my favourite props. It's not a particularly culturally authentic prop, which is to say that while some Middle Eastern and North African dances do involve swords (or in some of the updated versions, rifles) the way that bellydancers use the sword in the west is not recognisable within the frame of MENA dance.

However, it is a very popular prop, it's flash and impressive, balance feats involving swords have a frisson of danger about them and audiences love that. There is also the advantage, when not attempting to create an accurate representation of a cultural dance, that we have the freedom to play, experiment and express our art however we wish.

Some dancers use weapons to create martial arts based pieces, Morgana is a great example of a dancer who blends her martial arts background with dance on stage.

I have also heard people criticise dancers for not doing this, for not "wielding" the sword "correctly" in their dance for instance. I think this criticism comes from a lack of consideration of what the dancer is trying to say with their dance (or perhaps what the teacher they learned from was trying to say), and I wanted to write a little about how we use weapons in dance, not to represent violence, but to subvert it.

I have martial arts training. I fought competitive, full contact Tae Kwon Do and I've trained in Western swordplay. When I dance with a sword, I'm not a fighter, I am a dancer. I don't hold my sword like a weapon, firstly, because it's not balanced like one, it's balanced to sit on my head, but also because part of the purpose of my dance is to take the sword as a classic symbol of violence, death and brutality, and subvert it as something delicate, graceful, even sensual.

Tech rehearsal for Juno's show in 2009

I've heard reports more recently, mostly from dancers in the USA, that they are being asked not to dance with a sword when booked for a performance, the reason being that it might remind people of the atrocities committed by Dae'sh extremists in the Middle East.

It makes me intensely sad that anyone would connect a beautiful performance with such things and moreso to see another way that terrorism creeps into our everyday lives.

As a counter to this I would suggest that artistic expression, dance, music and particularly the freedom of women to openly participate in the same, are all anathema to these extremists' ideals. Perhaps we are reaching a point where a woman, dancing, in public and subverting the symbol of the scimitar is becoming an act of defiance and ridicule against the perpetrators of violence.

What's in your gig bag?

I'm packing to go to Infusion Emporium at the moment (well, I'm procrastinating packing by writing a blog). It's a bit of a mammoth task because I have to have everything I need for attending workshops, being a bit fancy for the theatre show (by fancy I really mean, "not in sweaty leggings") travelling and staying overnight - Oh and because I love my students I am driving back early on Monday for my Glastonbury classes, so I need everything for that too. But the biggest obstacle is that I also need everything for performing at the Glitterball Shakedown.

When I do a performance, and often if I am teaching a hen party class or suchlike, I take my hallowed gig bag. It's a carry on size suitcase which has literally everything I could ever need in it. I carefully pack it beforehand, and "reset" it afterwards. Some of the contents is changeable, like costumes, props etc, and some of it is consistent.

For this weekend it doesn't make sense to take 2 suitcases, so I am having to decant the bits and bobs I need from my gig bag, into my weekend luggage. It's the little, consistent things that are the trick, because it has taken me a while to refine exactly what I need for any eventuality. Here's some of the stuff I carry around with me:

Hairgrips/bobby pins

I always have 2 packs of these, because the hairgrip pixies steal them at a frightening speed. Anyone who has hairgrips knows about the hairgrip pixies, they will take 80% of your stash every time you look away. Don't Blink.

If you buy in bulk, they just get lost faster, I have tried. So my rule is that I buy small packs, and there must be one in my dresser and 2 in my gig bag, all at least half full.

I carry 2 packs because one will be standard grips and the other heavy duty/wig grips, which can take the strain of pinning hairpieces, rats and bulky accessories.

Minirig

My Minirig is one of my favourite things ever, no exaggeration. It's a speaker about the size of a large mug of tea, which is rechargable and surprisingly loud. Loud enough to teach with, on high gain you can get enough sound to perform with, even outdoors. Not super noisy, but enough. I have a 500W tailgate speaker which is louder, but it's about the same size as my gig bag, and I'm only going to double my luggage if I absolutely have to.



Even if I know my venue has a sound system, it is no trouble at all to carry the Minirig and that means that if there is an issue with sound, I can still teach/perform.

MP3 player

I go absolutely nowhere without my MP3 player. It has *all* my dance music on and specific playlists for particular lessons, moods and performance sets.

Tin of gubbins

Used hairgrips, safety pins (essential for securing costumes and last minute fixes), hairbands. Anything small and vital goes in my tin.

My tin of gubbins, essential kit.

Sewing kit.

This little repair kit came from my local craft shop. It's important to be able to fix  costumes on the go because a loose hook can be the difference between a servicable costume and having nothing to wear, or worse, a costume malfunction! The scissors are also great for trimming lashes.

All the underwear

In case I happen to forget to pack the appropriate underpinnings for the particular costume (Shira has a great article on this), I always carry a pair of black and a pair of fleshtone "invisible" knickers (seamfree, but I like to call them that because I never get tired of saying "I can't find my invisible knickers"), which between them will work for most costumes. I also carry a normal pair because I was raised to be prepared.

I also carry a pair of Capezio dance tights in my bag all the time, and a fleshtone, sleeved bellystocking, both are transferable to almost any costume if need be.

Grooming

Body glitter, travel size hairspray, hairbrush, versatile red lipstick. These are necessities, so they stay in there. Also a spare shake and go wig, because nobody needs a hairmergency.

Eyelashes and glue

I always have a spare pair of eyelashes, just in case. Eyelash glue suffers in the same way as hairgrips. It's small and the pixies steal it. I use latex free eyelash glue, which isn't commonly available, so I buy lots of little bottles and secrete them in handy places (no use buying a large bottle, it dries up). Eyelash glue isn't just for eyelashes, I use a lot of little gems in my makeup and it's useful for wayward wig lace. Having spare glue is essential if any of the cornucopia of stuff stuck to my face comes loose.

Pre-gig war paint photo demonstrating how I might stick stuff on my face...

Health stuff

In case of emergency. Ibuprofen and paracetamol (for headaches or injuries), Tiger Balm and sanitary protection. More often than not I am lending this stuff to other dancers in need!

Wet wipes

Amazing all around for everything. You can wipe down the surface in the dressing room, before or after use. You can wipe the floor dirt off your feet, a smudge of hummus off your costume, take your make up off with them, all sorts of things.

Parking change.

Because there is nothing worse when you have somewhere to get to than finding yourself in a car park with no meter money... in costume.

Flyers and business cards

You never know where a networking opportunity might come up, so I try to keep a stock of class flyers and business cards on hand.

Video camera and tripod

One of the best ways to improve your dance is to video yourself and watch it critically. I do this in practice, but where I can, I try to do it for performances too, because sometimes stuff comes out under pressure. I carry a small video camera and a tabletop tripod for that purpose.

The changables

So all those things are a given, I might need them in most situations. I also have room in my bag for the items that are specific to a gig.

So if I am teaching a burlesque party, I will have half a case full of feather boas, spare gloves, party favours etc.

If I am doing a bellydance performance I have space for 2 complete costumes (providing only one of them is a bulky one) and a cover up, plus shoes, hairpieces etc.

Everyone's essentials are going to be different, and it has evolved over time as I have learned what I can do without and what I wished I had packed.

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.

Writing your bio for a bellydance performance

Let me introduce myself....

I promised this for the dancers who are attending my hafla this weekend, so I had better get on it...

When you are performing, whether at a show, restaurant or a hafla, it is usual to provide some kind of bio or introduction for your performance. For many dancers this is a struggle. Firstly because not all dancers are writers and secondly because many of us feel awkward about talking about ourselves. But never fear, I am here to help!

Why write a bio?

It's a fair question, why not just let your dance speak for itself? Well, some events do that, but if you are dancing in a show with an MC, they will want to say something. What they say will prime your audience for your performance, and you want your introduction to be an appropriate representation of you and your dancing.

If you don't provide an introduction they might just announce you by name (will they use the right one, will they pronounce it right?) or they might add all kinds of things, snippets from your website, something your said to informally describe your dance over email - who knows? You might know the MC well and feel you can leave it in their hands, and if you are comfortable with that, then it's all cool, but that's not always going to be the case.

It's entirely possible that if you do submit a bio, they will edit it to fit in with the other introductions, or add to it regardless, but at least you had a hand in it!

Another thing to consider is that your introduction is a venue-wide networking opportunity. Are you a teacher with classes or workshops to promote? Are you a solo dancer who is looking for potential troupemates? Let them know.

So what goes in an introduction?

You can put in pretty much anything you like, but here's some ideas:

You need to include your name, you might start with it, or end with it, or put it somewhere in the middle, but it's important. If your name might be mispronounced, put a phonetic breakdown in brackets too. I have an Arabic surname, but in my case it comes from a family line that came to the West several generations ago and use Western pronunciation. I get many variations if I don't let people know my preference.

You probably want to include something about your background, where you come from, if you teach or are part of a group, if you are a student performer then it is good to credit your teacher. If you are a newer dancer and this is your first solo, or even if it's not, you can let people know. Hafla audiences tend to be super supportive of new blood!

What are you dancing? What's the style? What's the music? I can take or leave this bit, depending on the audience. In an audience of other dancers, it might not be worthy of mention, if your audience is less well-versed, then maybe a brief explanation of the origins of the style will help them.

Next part is about context, what are your inspirations for this piece. Did attending a workshop with a particular teacher heavily influence this dance? A life event? Did the music just move you? More generally where do you get inspiration? What dancers do you love to watch? Did you come back from a Middle Eastern holiday bursting with ideas? Again, any dancer/musician/location names that the MC might struggle with will need a phonetic breakdown.

Credits. Did someone else write your choreography? Then you must credit them. If you learned it in a workshop then adapted it, make that clear - it's their intellectual property. If you are a group but one member wrote most of the choreography, credit them. It is also good to credit any teacher, or otherwise, who helped you prepare for the performance. You might also want to credit music editors or anything of that ilk, but don't turn it into an oscar speech.

More than one of you?

If you are dancing with others, you need to introduce all of you. With a live drummer, they will have their own bio to run alongside yours. This can make things a bit lengthy so if I am dancing more than once, I will have my full bio for my solo, but the "duet" introduction will focus on the drummer.

Doum Tekka and I performing at Gina's Bellygees hafla earlier this month - Photo by Angie Budd

If you are in a troupe, you can include information about how the troupe came together, who leads the group etc. If there are more than 2/3 of you, there probably won't be time to include much detail about the individuals, so focus on what you have in common.

What shouldn't go in the introductions?

This is me, your milage may vary, but there are some things I can do without...

Long introductions. The audience doesn't need to know every teacher you ever studied with, your education history and what you had for breakfast. Keep it interesting, relevant and brief. Some shows are notorious for long introductions - I can think of one in particular where I know I can reliably scroll through the first full minute of video before any dancing happens - but most of the time people just want to see you dance.

Instructions for the audience. OK, so this might be a very personal bugbear, but I really dislike being told how to react to a dancer. If I am told that I will be AMAZED by a performance, my inner contrary teenager sits back, folds her arms and says "come on then 'amaze' me". Of course the more sensible and supportive dancer tells her to shut up and engages with the performance, but it is worth considering that if you tell your audience to expect something spectacular, you have to deliver.

How the audience reacts is their choice. As an artist you can only present your piece, what they do with it is not your responsibility. That's especially important to remember when you have a tough crowd. Instead of telling them that they "will be moved" by your dance, tell them what inspired you, and let them take the performance in context and experience it for themselves.

Make it yours

It's always good to have something unique to you, a little quip or whatever reflects your personality. Watch out for cliches, there is no point in the MC reading out the same phrases for every dancer!

Templates

That being said, if you are still a bit stuck, here are a couple of idea to get you going:

Our next dancer has travelled all the way from [hometown] to be here. He has studied under [teacher] for 3 years and this is his very first solo piece. Inspired by a his recent visit to Egypt and the work of Mahmoud Reda. Please welcome [name].

[Name] and [Name] have been dancing together for 4 years after meeting at [dance festival]. [Dancer 1] teaches weekly Rasq Sharqui classes in her hometown [place], she has recently travelled to [place] to train with [teacher]. [Dancer 2] is based in [town] and is the troupe director of [troupe]. Today they are dancing to [song name] which is a song about [subject] from [location].

[Troupe name] are local dancers and students of [teacher]. Tonight they are really excited to share a piece, adapted from a choreography they learned from [teacher] at [festival]. This dance is in [style] which originated from [some background]. Ladies and gentlemen [troupe name]

These are focussed on a hafla-type venue. If you are performing in another context, you will have to think about what references your audience will understand, and what they will relate to.

Destroying the art

A couple of months ago my attention was drawn to this interview with Sergei Polunin. In it he talks about how it was necessary to destroy, or "delete" everything he had previously worked for, in order to start afresh and remain creative.

Often artists create work that is intended to be destroyed, ice and snow sculptures, drawings in the sand waiting for the tide, installations designed to be taken over by nature and crumble into the earth. While some art is curated by people devoted to its long term preservation, other art is made through its destruction, it's impermanence being a key part of its beauty.

Performance, such as dance, often belongs in the moment. Although it may be immortalised in images or video, people often say that the energy of a dance is lost, and it's never quite as good when viewed on film.

When I perform, I usually try to capture it on video, primarily so that I can reflect upon it later and understand better how to improve for my future performances. Sometimes that doesn't happen, through logistics, forgotten cameras, technical failures or "no film" rules at particular shows.

Often that disappoints me, especially if it was an improvised performance as it really does feel lost forever. An enormous amount of work goes into a 4 minute performance (let alone a longer one) and when that is over, with nothing tangible to show for it, it can feel like an anticlimax.

Sometimes though, there is a sense of "rightness" in that. The performance stays in the moment, in the memories of a few witnesses - and never mine, because I can never recall my experience of a performance, I go into my dance-mind and effectively black out!

It also means that I can move on. I can cast aside that performance and look forward to the next. No judgement, no hangover, and with that comes an enormous rush of creative freedom.

For me bellydance is about transformation. Almost every dancer I have met came to the dance during, or in anticipation of, a period of intense transformation. This is why I created Dancing with the Red Goddess, as a way to acknowledge the personal transformative experience that often comes with the dance.

I also note that within my own dance career I have undergone a series of intense metamorphoses, and these, like all initiatory experiences, necessitate a letting go, or destruction of the previous ways and paths not taken. A system with continuous growth is unsustainable, creativity can only exist when in harmony with destruction. Or, "you can't make an omelette without breaking some eggs".

Diva inspiration - performance lessons from drag queens

Those who know me will be aware that I am quite an enormous fan of the art of drag. Bellydancers and drag queens have a lot in common, we suffer from glitter dandruff and are among the few professions where gluing gems to your face it not only acceptable but considered very positively. If I want to share the joy of my new wig storage system, then I'll talk to a queen.

I am a huge fan of RuPaul's Drag Race, and its various spin offs, and I have found so much inspiration in terms of make up, costuming and performance skills. Being inspired by our dance idols is great, but sometimes the elements that turn us into great entertainers and unique performers, come from quite different places. So I have decided to start a series of blog posts to share the love.

Part 1 - Nerve

When I decided I wanted to put together a workshop to help shy dancers find their stage mojo, I realised I had to turn to the greatest divas for inspiration, and Fierce and Fearless started to fall into place.

Never let a b**** see you sweat - Bianca Del Rio

Ru often says that when a man puts on a wig and a dress and leaves the house, he's already a hero. It takes nerve. Are you scared to get up on stage and dance your first solo? How about a dose of whatever tonic it takes to do that when simply stepping outside the door in costume is a scary prospect?

What happens when you a criticised? It's really hard to hear someone telling you that your performance, something you are passionate about and worked hard to achieve, isn't hitting the mark - no matter how well intended or gently presented.

I know that for me, the wrong kind of feedback has knocked me for six, left me unmotivated to keep working and even made me consider giving up performing altogether.

Water off a duck's back - Jinkx Monsoon

Everyone has their own way of dealing with this. Ultimately I think it comes back to you. Decide whose opinion matters to you, work on the constructive feedback, but everything else, toss it aside. Use your passion for your performance to drive you on. Not everyone will "get" you. Do your best, train, find out about the roots of the dance you love and do it justice as best you can, but work to your own aspirations and expectations with the support of people who care about your goals more than their egos. Be true to yourself, in fact, let Ru say it (this is marginally sweary):

It's worth remembering here that your critic might not even be someone else. Is it ever? How you respond to criticism, whether it is genuine shade, tactless criticism, a backhanded compliment ("that was brave") or a standoffish audience, is your choice. But our worst critics are usually ourselves. We see an audience member with a sour face, and we assume we aren't good enough. Don't forget you are fabulous. You put in the work, you give your best performance, keep striving, but do that because you are passionate and dedicated and want to give your best, not because you need someone else's approval. Don't forget to appreciate how awesome you are, because if you don't believe it, how are you going to persuade an audience?

Sometimes a comment or a slip up really throws you. You forget your choreography, or your music messes up, or your costume malfunctions. It is very easy to stew on that, and make it very hard to get back up on stage again. When I get into a funk like that I watch this video. This is Alyssa Edwards. She is a FIERCE queen. In her season of Drag Race she had the misfortune to be competing alongside her arch nemesis (because clearly, if you are that fierce, you have a nemesis). Oh the shade of it all! Alyssa's competition was blighted by arguments, backbiting and humiliating criticism. In the first episode she was cruelly called out by another queen for her figure and costume choice, she snarks back, but you can see that it cut her. So what did she do when she was invited back as a warm up to a later season finale? She dances to music mixed with soundbites from her on-screen altercations. And she nails it.

So there it is. Know that you are fabulous. Be fabulous. But if the sound tech puts on the wrong music, or your hairpiece falls off, or your act is poorly received, don't get down, get drop dead gorgeous.