Arab Dance Seminar, second day
Day two of the Arab Dance Seminar contained still more fabulousness and energy and warmth. We started right off with an hour and a half dabke class taught by Karim, which was so, so helpful. My shins ached by the time we finished, but I think I have a decent handle on some basic steps now. I couldn't always get the quick hoppy heel-toe accents that make dabke so distinctive, but at least I could mostly put my feet down in the right order at the right time, often without even looking at them ;-) After dabke came a great Saidi class with Cassandra. We started without canes, since as Cassandra said the Saidi people don't grab a cane every time they want to dance. It was great to really focus on the quality of the movements without also focusing on cane technique. As with her raqs sharqi class the day before, the movements weren't new to me, but some of her explanations and layering of detail were new, so it was quite valuable. I've done enough cane that I found this class very relaxing after all the intense concentration of the dabke. There was some horsey hoppy stuff that my feet were just not going to do after all they'd been through already, but at least I've seen it and had it explained to me.
After the break, we did Bedouin dance with Kay Hardy Campbell, sort of the folklore/folkloric version of the Khaleegi dance we'd done the day before. Again, I loved wearing my thobe--I feel like the Queen of Sheba in it. Once we'd learned some movements, we formed a big crescent and Kay danced around the line, pulling dancers out to do little solos--solo feels like the wrong word, but I'm not sure what is. Individual celebration in front of the group to reflect the feelings of the entire group. There must be some long German word for that. Anyway, that's what we all did in turn.
Then came the trance dance portion of the seminar, a profound and powerful way to close the event. It was mostly led by Amel Tafsout, as she grew up immersed in this kind of spirituality and has made a lifetime of study of it. We started just with breathing, letting out all the tension built up in our bodies over two days of hard physical work, and the tension built up in our brains after two and a half days of hard mental work, and moved into celebrating the life that exists within all of us. The words used in that celebration were about Allah, but could be understood in any spiritual sense, I think. After reaching a relaxed but alert state, we began spinning. This Sufi type of spinning is not like any turning or spinning I've done before, and I have to say I hit somewhere else in the middle of it. After getting comfortable with internally spotting for the turns, we began spinning first slowly and then faster and faster until part of my brain wanted to freak out knowing how fast I was going. I defeated dizziness by connecting to the ground through my feet, reminding myself that the ground was exactly where I had left it the last time I picked my foot up. I don't know how long we spun for; I'd guess maybe five minutes or so, but it was very hard to judge. The drums gradually slowed until we came to a halt. I was euphoric and ready to bounce off the walls, rooted and floating at the same time. If I tried, I could have brushed the sun with my fingertips while touching the core of the earth with the soles of my feet. I completely understand this as a form of religious devotion now, and will see performances that incorporate this very differently now.
From this huge feeling of expansion we moved into zaar, back inside ourselves, but still all connected to each other through the breath work we had done. For me, it felt like taking all the universe and folding it into me and at the finish releasing it back out. Cassandra was in the center of the circle in full out zaar mode. It was something to see, in glimpses through my own hair and head tosses. She reached her peak and collapsed. Amel and Kay took care of her, grounding her and bringing her back to the room. Perhaps some of it was acting out the ritual surrounding a zaar--Cassandra did seem ready to sit up until Amel gently pushed her back down--but that didn't make it feel any less real. I watched/experienced all this through my own knowledge of how it feels to be at the center of the circle performing a zaar, and I am humbled if I have had even a fraction of that impact on the audience. I wish I had had Amel to take care of me at my zaars.
When Cassandra had been safely escorted out of the circle, under Amel's direction we swept all the energy up into the center of the room and set it free, on its way back to wherever it came from. I almost didn't want to let go of my euphoria, but you can't live like that all the time. Instead, we were all, I think, left cleansed and at peace.
All in all, I feel that the seminar provided me with not only technique and movement vocabulary but more importantly, a real feeling for what these dances mean to the people who practice them as part of their regular lives, not playing dress up and putting on a show but expressing thoughts and feelings about themselves and their communities. And the weekend also gave me a deeper appreciation for musical structure and understanding of how music and rhythm relates to the dances. One of the most excellent points about the seminar was that there were live drums being played all the time. Even if the live drummer was just accompanying recorded music, having a live drum in the room meant that we could *feel* the rhythm vibrating through the air, adding tremendous energy to the room. The instructors were all warm, patient and kind, and I would take anything any of them taught again in a heartbeat. My body is beyond exhausted--it was genuinely hard to get out of bed this morning, nothing in particular hurt but everything felt like lead--but if I heard of a class any of them offered this very evening, I'd be there.
After the break, we did Bedouin dance with Kay Hardy Campbell, sort of the folklore/folkloric version of the Khaleegi dance we'd done the day before. Again, I loved wearing my thobe--I feel like the Queen of Sheba in it. Once we'd learned some movements, we formed a big crescent and Kay danced around the line, pulling dancers out to do little solos--solo feels like the wrong word, but I'm not sure what is. Individual celebration in front of the group to reflect the feelings of the entire group. There must be some long German word for that. Anyway, that's what we all did in turn.
Then came the trance dance portion of the seminar, a profound and powerful way to close the event. It was mostly led by Amel Tafsout, as she grew up immersed in this kind of spirituality and has made a lifetime of study of it. We started just with breathing, letting out all the tension built up in our bodies over two days of hard physical work, and the tension built up in our brains after two and a half days of hard mental work, and moved into celebrating the life that exists within all of us. The words used in that celebration were about Allah, but could be understood in any spiritual sense, I think. After reaching a relaxed but alert state, we began spinning. This Sufi type of spinning is not like any turning or spinning I've done before, and I have to say I hit somewhere else in the middle of it. After getting comfortable with internally spotting for the turns, we began spinning first slowly and then faster and faster until part of my brain wanted to freak out knowing how fast I was going. I defeated dizziness by connecting to the ground through my feet, reminding myself that the ground was exactly where I had left it the last time I picked my foot up. I don't know how long we spun for; I'd guess maybe five minutes or so, but it was very hard to judge. The drums gradually slowed until we came to a halt. I was euphoric and ready to bounce off the walls, rooted and floating at the same time. If I tried, I could have brushed the sun with my fingertips while touching the core of the earth with the soles of my feet. I completely understand this as a form of religious devotion now, and will see performances that incorporate this very differently now.
From this huge feeling of expansion we moved into zaar, back inside ourselves, but still all connected to each other through the breath work we had done. For me, it felt like taking all the universe and folding it into me and at the finish releasing it back out. Cassandra was in the center of the circle in full out zaar mode. It was something to see, in glimpses through my own hair and head tosses. She reached her peak and collapsed. Amel and Kay took care of her, grounding her and bringing her back to the room. Perhaps some of it was acting out the ritual surrounding a zaar--Cassandra did seem ready to sit up until Amel gently pushed her back down--but that didn't make it feel any less real. I watched/experienced all this through my own knowledge of how it feels to be at the center of the circle performing a zaar, and I am humbled if I have had even a fraction of that impact on the audience. I wish I had had Amel to take care of me at my zaars.
When Cassandra had been safely escorted out of the circle, under Amel's direction we swept all the energy up into the center of the room and set it free, on its way back to wherever it came from. I almost didn't want to let go of my euphoria, but you can't live like that all the time. Instead, we were all, I think, left cleansed and at peace.
All in all, I feel that the seminar provided me with not only technique and movement vocabulary but more importantly, a real feeling for what these dances mean to the people who practice them as part of their regular lives, not playing dress up and putting on a show but expressing thoughts and feelings about themselves and their communities. And the weekend also gave me a deeper appreciation for musical structure and understanding of how music and rhythm relates to the dances. One of the most excellent points about the seminar was that there were live drums being played all the time. Even if the live drummer was just accompanying recorded music, having a live drum in the room meant that we could *feel* the rhythm vibrating through the air, adding tremendous energy to the room. The instructors were all warm, patient and kind, and I would take anything any of them taught again in a heartbeat. My body is beyond exhausted--it was genuinely hard to get out of bed this morning, nothing in particular hurt but everything felt like lead--but if I heard of a class any of them offered this very evening, I'd be there.