Why "beginner" bellydance is for everybody

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.

Dance, injury and a new relationship with shoes

In my day job, I have a uniform. Not an actual uniform, but like most professionals I make choices about how to present myself in order to get a step ahead.

I am a Secondary School Teacher, I have to be dressed to deal with the practical side of classroom work, but also to create the right impression in my students, I mean business, but I am also a bit relatable. Nowadays I work ad hoc, supply teaching to fit around my dance and family commitments, and that means the uniform needs to be stronger. There is a moment when I approach a classroom, the students outside ask “Are you our teacher today Miss?” and before they even ask that, it has to be very clear that I am. Otherwise I have to work twice as hard to prove myself, before we can even begin a lesson.

I always wear my glasses when I am teaching, never contacts, I’ve done that a couple of times and I find it quite unnerving, the barrier is quite tangible. It’s like a Clarke Kent disguise, by day I’m a geeky Science teacher, by night I’m a bellydancer.

For years I have also worn high heels, shoes or boots. I remember as a child accompanying my mother, also a teacher, to work when I was on school holidays. She wore stilettos that brought forth an echoing drumbeat as she marched along the corridors. She told me it was because she is only small, but the shoes made her sound big and frightening.

I couple of months back I started reading Princess Farhana’s Belly Dance Handbook. It’s a great read for any bellydancer, and almost every page resonates with me, but a particular passage really hit home.

In the book Princess Farhana talks about injury, and how injury impacts on a dancer. For most people, a twisted ankle is an inconvenience, a - literal - pain, but it can be worked around. For a dancer it is devastating.

Like most (all?) bellydancers, dance isn’t just my job - not being able to work is a blow in itself. Dance is my hobby, my passion. I dance because I have to, because it feeds my soul. To not be able to dance for a few days, let alone weeks, is a horrifying prospect.

I am especially aware of this as I am naturally prone to joint pain and injury. Dance, and dance conditioning, keeps me strong and aligned. It actually prevents injury, but it also highlights for me when things aren’t quite right. I notice more when a joint is a little weak, or when the pain changes from the dull background I am used to, and starts to niggle.

I have noticed especially that my heels, my defence against tall teenagers, the announcement that yes, I am here, and I am serious about it, are aggravating that weakness. I read Princess Farhana’s account of how she had given up pursuits like horseriding, because of the risk to her dance career and I realised that every day I was in heels, I was knocking myself back, taking myself a step closer to another fall down the stairs, or just a stumble that could knock me off my dance feet for a month.

So I boxed up the heels, and bought a pair of smart biker boots. Flat with arch supports. Happy feet, happy knees, happy dancer. I’ve lost a bit of height, but I’m steadier on my feet, and more confident as a result. Without the strain of precarious footwear in the day, I am able to train harder for dance. Level change that little bit deeper, complete a few more squat repetitions before I reach my limits.

Once again I am reminded of how easy it is to hold on to something that we think we need, even when it is harming us, and how letting it go, taking a leap into a new chapter often seems like much less of a sacrifice from the other side.

Getting better at bellydance without leaving the sofa.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

After the first watch, take a moment to reflect upon your impressions. It can be worthwhile to write them down. If you are a bit stuck, think about these questions:

• What was the dancer trying to convey?
• What was the mood of the piece?
• Is this a character piece? Who is the character, do you feel you know them?
• Did you like the dance overall?
• Does anything stand out as being particularly good or particularly distracting?

The next viewing is the time to start analysing, you might even want to watch in short sections, repeating anything you feel needs another look.

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

Presentation

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

The look
Costume, make up, hair and jewelry, look at the visual the dancer has put together.

• Is the image authentic or suited to the style? If so how? 
• If there are unconventional elements, do they work in your opinion? Why?
• How does the costume and make up reflect the audience and setting?
• How does the aesthetic compliment the mood or message of the dance?
• Does the dancer use their costume for artistic effect, or dance in a way that shows off the costume?

The setting
What is the dance space like? Small restaurant or large theatre? Is the dancer on a raised stage or on the same level as the audience?

• How does the setting affect the relationship between the dancer and the audience?
• Does the dancer use the setting to its full advantage?
• What does the dancer do to overcome the limitations of the venue?
• How does the dancer move into the dance space?
• How do they use stage lighting to facilitate the entrance and mood?
• Do they use all the dance space available?

The presence

Stage presence is key to how a performance comes across, but it can appear quite intangible when you are trying to cultivate it yourself.

• Does the dancer hold your attention, and that of the audience?
• Can you identify something that makes them compelling to watch?
• How would you classify their on-stage persona, dramatic, flirtatious, friendly, intimidating?
• What do they do to reinforce your impression of their persona?
• Do they interact with the audience, even subtly? How?
• Are they unable to interact with the audience, if so, how do they keep a connection?
• If there is a band, how does the dancer interact with them?

Style

If you are working on a particular style of Middle Eastern dance, like Saiidi, Melaya Leff or Khallegi it is worth watching a range of performances to see how the style can be interpreted. The same goes in fact for all categories of bellydance.

• What style is the dance in?
• Is it true to the tradition of the style?
• How does the music choice reflect the dance style?
• What elements of the convention of this style have they incorporated?
• What have they done that is innovative?
• How do they convey their personality or individuality within the framework of this style?

Musicality

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

Structure

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

The technical bit

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

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

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

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

Watch the section a few times over.

• Observe where the feet are falling. Does the step travel, turn or otherwise? Does it need to?
• Is the movement sharp or smooth, which parts are moving and which are still?
• Which plane are the hips/torso etc moving in? Is that a horizontal or a vertical 8?
• What are the possible ways the movement could be generated? A hip movement could be driven by the obliques, legs, glutes or some combination of the 3. Can you tell from the movement? Does it make any difference (if there are layers it likely will)?
• If you are looking at a series of steps, how does the dancer transition from one to the next?

Hopefully this has given you some ideas that will improve the value you get out of watching dance performances on video. It's just a starting point, I am sure there are many things I have missed, but I am also sure that you will discover all kinds of benefits from watching and properly reflecting upon dance videos, once you get started. Don't forget to do some actual dancing inbetween! 

Here are some to get you started.

Dancing with Hypermobility.

In August 2014, the Yahoo Contributor Network was shut down. All the copyrights to articles thereon were returned to their authors, so I decided to publish certain articles of mine, originally written for Yahoo UK on my own blogs. This is one of them.


The mums at my baby group are planning a 5K road run. It's a frequent topic of conversation, and naturally, there came the part I had been dreading. "You should run with us" said one of the mums. "No thanks" said I with the affectation of a committed couch potato. "I don't do running." She continued to attempt to convince me, and I was forced to admit it, "I'm sorry, I just cannot run."


The secret is out. I'm a dance and yoga instructor, I am fit, strong and healthy, but if I tried to run, I would last less than 100 metres before the excruciating pain set in. Not long after my knees would give way and it would all be a bit embarrassing. I have an 'invisible condition', Ehlers Danlos Syndrome - Hypermobility Type (EDS-HM) with recent campaigns aiming to raise awareness, I am going to share my experience of living with and despite the condition.


EDS is a genetic mutation that causes the sufferer's collagen to be more elastic than it should be. EDS-HM is relatively mild, and characterised by extremely flexible joints; sadly flexible also means unstable; sufferers are prone to regular sprains and dislocations, the joints wear and take damage more easily than most, because the movement tends to be erratic and outside the "safe" range. EDS-HM sufferers often have other health problems as all our soft tissues are affected.


I was around 11 years old, when I started to get pain in my knees, and it escalated from there. Growing up with hidden health issues is never a smooth ride. I can recall vividly being shouted at, and called a liar by my PE teacher, because I was limping on the other leg that day.


I spent my teenaged years in an environment where sporting achievement was prized above all. I was the girl who wore supports on both knees, long socks instead of tights so I could more easily adjust the straps that held my kneecaps in place, this did not work out well for me socially. On the other hand I missed double German every week to for physiotherapy.


As an adult I adapted to my personal capabilities. I'm in pain every day. My knees creak and rattle from the damage caused by the joint surfaces mashing together at awkward angles. I have a running joke about how I fall down the stairs. There is a particular point where my knee is bent and it just can't hold anymore, it collapses, and down I go! I always cling to the bannister to take the weight off at that crucial point. Occasionally I find myself approached by someone ascending the stairs, and awkwardly have to choose between facing them down and appearing rude, or letting go of the rail and falling on them!


I have instability in my wrists, ankles, feet and hips, which means I get sprains quite a lot. My hands are always stiff and sore - the medical advice on that was to use my hands less! I bruise easily which does not combine well with the clumsiness that results from wobbly joints. I am very grateful however, that for the most part I can move quite normally within the boundaries that have become second nature to me. As a teen I was told I could expect a wheelchair in my future, but although I use a stick on a bad day, it happens rarely enough that people ask me what I have "done".


It's not all gloomy. As a dancer my natural flexibility serves me well, provided I support it with strength. The right kind of regular training actually eases my condition. Here are my tips for exercising with hypermobility.

- Alignment is crucial. I love gentle yoga for achieving strength in good posture. When you practice regularly you carry those good habits into your everyday actions.

- Impact and load bearing in exercise are tough on joints. I am able to do Arabic dance but I could not dance ballet.

- I always warm up properly, mobilising all the joints, locating the muscles that support them, and establishing good posture. I start my movements small and explore the limits of my safe range of movement safely.

- It is really important to have symmetry in strength training. Poorly balanced muscled drag joints out of alignment.

- Good footwear is essential, as hypermobile feet are prone to fallen arches. All of my footwear is supportive or equipped with insoles.

- I listen to my body and I am aware of my limits. If I get injured, I rest. I understand that I will never run, or do star jumps; but I am at peace with that, as long as I can dance.


More information about EDS can be found here http://www.ehlers-danlos.org/

Getting even better at bellydance

Part 4 - Steepening the learning curve.

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

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

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

1. Inspirational education

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

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

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

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

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

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

2. Get focussed feedback

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

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

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

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

3. Set yourself challenges

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

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

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

4. Try something new

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bellydance and body image

A study came out recently that demonstrated what those of us in the bellydance community have known for some time: Bellydance is great for body image and self esteem.

Body positivity and body acceptance is often born out of an appreciation for the function of the body. A mother may come to terms with her postnatal body by considering the amazing function it has performed. A bellydance student learns to love her body because she knows that when she dances, it can do beautiful things, or she appreciates the joy that moving her body in dance can bring her.

I am ceaselessly amazed at how those who come to this dance blossom, over time as they grow in confidence, poise and grace; in the moment as the music starts and they transform from their everyday self, into the dancer, into a vision of the music itself.

One of the things I love about this dance is its inclusiveness. Bellydance is available to people of all genders, races, ages, shapes and sizes. None of these is a barrier to learning, or performing, everyone has the opportunity to express themselves, and to share their dance in the safe, accepting environment of the dance studio or halfa. Bellydance, is for every body.

When news of the above research came to light, there was a murmer in the background. Some experienced dancers were asking “what about the professional performers?”

For while it is true that a student or hobbyist is surrounded by encouraging peers and supportive audiences, the same cannot be said for those who choose to become entertainers for the general public, where employers and audiences, unaware of our more accepting (and dare I say, realistic) aesthetic demand and expect a dancer who fits within a narrow, “conventionally attractive” image.

When I was a fledgeling dancer, in a student troupe, our teacher related to us an enquiry she had had for a party booking. The organiser had specifically asked that she sent only the “young, slim” dancers. Our troupe was made up of dancers between the ages of roughly 18 and 60, dress sizes 8-20. Our teacher politely declined, and explained that this request was contrary to her dance ethos, and the spirit of the troupe itself.

I was reminded of this recently, when Shira reshared an old article from her site. It was based around a question from a dancer whose teacher had asked her to cover her stretchmarks for a performance.

The reaction to this was incredibly powerful. A few dancers agreed with the teacher, citing professionalism, client/audience expectations etc. Some moderate responses stated that the teacher was correct, but only to spare the dancer from the judgement of the audience. An overwhelming response, from dancers and dance teachers, was in support of the student, stating that it should be the individual dancer’s choice what to cover and what to reveal (within the bounds of culturally appropriate costuming).

My stance on this, was that as a teacher or mentor, I would avoid exposing students to a toxic environment where they might be judged according to their appearance rather than their dancing in favour of a safe opportunity to express themselves as they choose. As a performer I know that a critical audience can have a horribly negative impact, even on those who do “fit the mould”, because none of us will ever be “perfect” in the eyes of every observer. Striving for that perfection is not a route to happiness, but perhaps self-acceptance and appreciation of our reality might be.

I am left considering how this goes forward. In our insular community we have happy, well adjusted dancers. People who step out of their everyday lives to be together, to appreciate each other and learn to appreciate themselves. These people leave the studio and take that attitude with them, they walk taller, dress more adventurously. They model self-acceptance to their children and their peers. Little ripples. Can we make waves?

What happens when an older dancer, or a plus sized dancer goes out to perform professionally? What happens if the public audience doesn’t see the “young, slim, pretty” dancer they were expecting? Do they fall in love with the performance and broaden their perspective on beauty, or is the dancer ridiculed as an oddity. Sadly the latter is all too common and sadly this means that the less thick-skinned dancers find themselves having to cherry-pick their performance opportunities. If I had a pound for every time I heard the “oh she has the belly for bellydance” comment (and I am sure you can imagine my geektastic rebuttal regarding the misnomer, you don’t need a belly, just hips, bone ones or titanium ones, or not even, I’ve seen some lovely chair dancing too)

But if we could get out there, just a little more. Share our art and show people the power, grace, joy and beauty in out dance. Maybe we could inspire more people to be a little more comfortable in their skin.

Finding the bellydance joy - Kash performing with Doum Tekka on darbuka, photo credit: Jenny Balkam

How bellydance changed my life

In August 2014, the Yahoo Contributor Network was shut down. All the copyrights to articles thereon were returned to their authors, so I decided to publish certain articles of mine, originally written for Yahoo UK on my own blogs. This is one of them.

If you had told me once that I would dance for my living, let alone that this would come when I was already in my thirties, I would not have believed you. Here I am though, rhinestones and sequins everywhere (the homes of bellydancers have the most glamourous dustbunnies), an MP3 player full of Arabic music, planning my schedule around performances and classes.

Arabic dance is an excellent way to bring regular exercise into your life. Originating from folk dances, it is danced by people of all ages and physical abilities. The movements work with the body's natural motion and, as long as the posture is correct, puts very little strain on the joints. The dance builds core control with flexibility, grace with strength. As a long-term sufferer of joint problems with a taste for the exotic, bellydance seemed like the perfect, fun way to keep fit.

Little did I know it would become so much more than that.

My first class was actually a technique workshop with a famous dancer from out of town. The venue was huge, and I arrived to find a large number of women, in bright and jangly attire, catching up on news from their various circles. I believe I was the only raw beginner there. I struggled a little to follow the teacher from the midst of a large ballroom surrounded by my sparkling peers, but even as I fought for the compliance of my reluctant hips, I was falling in love.

I started regular classes, and I really mean classes, I attended two to three lessons with my teacher every week. I grew stronger, more flexible; I gained stamina, isolation and control. Stiff movements became gooey and smooth, stilted shimmies evolved into fast, effortless energy. The more I danced, the more I could dance, I progressed in a spiral of joy and beauty.

My joints became more stable, and less painful; I grew a full inch in height as my improved posture lengthened my spine. I became more poised and graceful, more confident and comfortable in my body - I became a dancer.

Not every individual who takes bellydance classes wants to perform, and that's just fine. A good class will offer every participant an opportunity to exercise, socialise and have fun, whilst still breaking down the movements and give feedback so that students learn to dance both safely, and beautifully. This allows them to ascend to a stage-worthy standard, should they choose to.

Tips for picking a good bellydance class:

Look for a local organisation. Or a not-so-local one, and ask about teachers. Failing that, seek out a reputable teacher further afield and ask for a recommendation. It is good for a teacher to be known by and involved with the wider dance community, that way they bring more opportunities for their students.

Speak to people already taking the class, but beware of bias. A personal recommendation is excellent, but if that person has only been exposed to the dance via their teacher, they may have a distorted view of the quality of the class.

Go to a local hafla (bellydance party) or showcase. Watch the teacher perform, watch the students perform, how do they compare with other groups at the show? Do you enjoy the style that they teach?

Ask your potential teacher about their training/qualifications. There is no governing body for bellydance in the UK, but there are a number of smaller schools with official training for bellydance teachers. I would also expect any decent teacher to be constantly working on her own dance, attending workshops, possibly even working under the mentorship of a master teacher. How a teacher trains will impact seriously on her students.

Talk to your teacher about their ethos and attitude to the dance. A good teacher will be passionate about the dance, music and culture. They will love to talk about it with you, and they will take great joy in infecting all their students with the same enthusiasm



Kash now teaches and performs as Scarlet Lotus Dancewww.scarletlotusdance.co.uk, in South West England.