I am so excited for Wonderland! And part of my excitement is that Delsarte movement expert Joe Williams will be our guest artist, with a 2-hour live interactive workshop on using Delsarte principles to subtly enhance meaning, emotion, and engagement in our dance! As you may remember, I included Joe’s workshops last year in my professional development post; I am beyond delighted to host him as a guest artist for Wonderland!
Wonderland includes so much material for making meaningful, compelling dances! It is great for creating structures to inform improvisational dances, or to give richness and depth to set choreographies. It can even be used on the fly, with music you’ve never heard before!
This is a major component of the CDA system that I use to make all my dances. CDA incorporates musical structure, narrative and symbolic content, stage pictures, and more to create fully realized dances for improvisation or choreography. Wonderland is the heart of this system.
The course runs 5 weeks, concurrently with Secret Stories, a FUN Class Deep Dive into theatrical expression. Secret Stories (a $65 value) starts Tuesday! It is included free in Wonderland as a bonus! (but you can also just sign up for Secret stories–it’s going to be WONDER-ful ; )
I’ve even included a private lesson with me for each student, to better develop your vision!
This is going to be such a great class! There are still spaces left, along with a modest sliding scale. Wonderland will be hosted on a private forum, just for participants. I hope you will join us!
One of the things I love is structure–which is hilarious, since I am the Queen of Chaos (this mostly shows up in my everyday surroundings. Yes, I am a triple Virgo. Go figure). But I am pretty organized on the inside–and as an artist, composition, aka structure, brings freedom.
This is why I am always pointing out musical structure in my classes.
As dancers, we have more freedom when we can see what is all around around us. Like a busy restaurant, when we know the entrances, exits, and pathways of the waitstaff, it’s a lot easier to navigate.
And while we have all survived (and many of us enjoy), dancing to unknown songs, having a sense of structure will make that song much more predictable. We’ll have a better sense of timing, accents, and transitions, so we can enjoy ourselves a lot more.
Because I am making this Map Your Music course for the Bundle, I’ve been thinking a lot about dance composition. In my experience, belly dance choreographies tend to be made as step-sequences. Four of this, turn, kick, hip 2, 3, 4, etc. This pains me, as belly dance is meant to be improvised, in the same way its music is improvised–the song may be the same, but the musicians’ decorations, solos, and embellishments are always changing. “Same but different” is a point of pride for musicians and dancers alike.
So why as dancers do we try to do things the same every time?
Let’s be more whimsical!
Well, that’s how we get taught. Lots of dance in the West is tightly choreographed. Because we have recorded music, it is tempting to do recorded dances. And a beautiful choreography, beautifully danced, is a beautiful thing.
It’s just not the only thing. I’d love to see us have more fun with our compositions.
Belly dance is all about dancer agency and being in the present moment.
We are supposed to be able to respond to the music in the moment, as we feel it. So let’s make dances that celebrate this!
For example, instead of deciding on every step, what if we just plan the floor patterns? Then we know where to be and when to be there, but we can do any step we feel like to get there.
Or we can just set movement families. So this verse will be all hip drops, and this one will be all arms.
Or tell a story.
Or whatever. We can bake in variety in ways other than specific steps. We don’t even need specific steps.
In this way, we also bake in our agency and freedom. And it’s fun!
We’ll be doing some composition things this fall. I’m guessing folks are doing some recitals even if they are on Zoom. Stay tuned! I haz ideas ; ). I’ll also be talking more about this on the Bundle Podcast, which is coming soon–but there are already lots of great interviews there: Bundle Podcast
Lots and lots of love and hugs! Alia
The BellyDance Bundle Zill Giveaway is happening now. Five prizes–maybe one of them is for you? Check it out! Zill Giveaway
This pretty amazing offering is made up of more than 50 video lessons from creativity coaches worldwide.
Then I realized that my video was selected as one of the preview videos–so you can see the whole thing right at the link!
Creativity coaches work with creative and performing artists every day of the week. They provide guidance and support and help creatives set goals, stay organized, and stay motivated. They are “in it” with their creative clients.
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Now you can meet more than 40 creativity coaches from around the world and learn from them. See them, hear them, and get to know them. The Great Creativity Toolkit is a brand-new program that will really help you live your best creative life possible–plus get free and low-cost coaching!
I am so pleased to be part of the Toolkit. I’ve been meeting with Eric and these coaches for the last several months. I am very impressed with our group!
A while back I mentioned the complex Arabic orchestral music that used to really throw me for a loop. One of our more complex genres is our modern Entrance music. Back in the 5-part routine days, entrance music was fairly simple, upbeat, made to energize the guests and grab their attention. Any variation came from the multiple taqasim of the featured melody instruments. But with the incorporation of tarab music, and dancing on the complex orchestral overtures of famous songs, came a new kind of entrance music.
Mergensé, megence, majensee and various other spellings are apparently all derived from the French term Mise en Scène, which refers to the setting, props etc of a scene–ie, setting the scene–which is what entrance music does for a dance routine.
This modern entrance music is designed to show off the dancer’s skills, with fast-paced, radical shifts in rhythm, tempo, and affect. Like the classic songs, these shifts are often intentionally surprising. They can be a real challenge for dancers, so they are often choreographed quite tightly, per the recording, of course.
But what if you have a live band?
What if they play the song differently from the recording? (Oops…)
What if you don’t feel like tightly choreographing a song?
What if you could improvise even to complex music?
Well, you can.
I’ve certainly done it (as have many others of us). The first time I heard Alf Leila wa Leila, or Darit il Ayyam, for example, I was performing to them. Um. Yeah. Here is a clip from that Darit il Ayyam.
It went surprisingly well.
Why?
Musical structure.
As we become familiar with how music is put together, we begin to intuit when the changes are coming. We start to notice patterns, thematic repeats. We understand how to slow down when we feel changes, and to fully commit to our movement, so that even if we don’t match the music, we look like we meant to do that. And then we catch it the next time around.
Anyone can do this. It does take some practice.
(It doesn’t hurt to have excellent musicians, who watch the dancer and follow her moves, as in the above clip ; )
Here’s a fun entrance piece for you. Just dance it. https://youtu.be/lTvShF_lMWU Of course it won’t be perfect. Discovery is part of the thrill. Let yourself relax and enjoy the ride.
Fun, right?
If you’d like a better understanding of structure, and practice with a bunch of great entrance pieces, you might enjoy our next Fun Class Deep Dive.
Entrancing: How to improvise to entrance music for Oriental Dance.
In 2010 I saw this improv jazz ensemble at Barbés, a tiny little club in Brooklyn. The musicians were an eclectic assortment rather than an established band. They played music with no structure, before each piece asking the audience for one word to get them going (like many comedy improv ensembles).
There was no song. There was no container. They built it as they played. Maybe half a dozen guys. The headliner was an Arabic trumpeter named Ibrahim Maalouf. Maalouf plays a quarter-tone trumpet invented by his father in the 60s (yes they exist–Amir al Saffar plays one as well).
The room was packed, the music thrilling; each musician played with humor and tenderness. I was standing next to the piano. Oh my god, the delicacy with which this guy played. Pablo Vergara listened with this whole body to the other musicians, utterly attuned.
His hands hovered over the keys, and I watched as he sometimes threw in a few notes, sometimes didn’t–his hand would waft towards the keys, and then draw back; other times he played full on. His every move was in service to the music that created itself out of nothing, in the moment, in the hands of the group.
This is what I mean about quality of movement, and about the textures and dynamics of sound. This is what I mean about deep listening. Each performer has to be incredibly open to to each other performer at every moment, and this includes the dancer. We listen with our whole bodies, our whole souls, the better to experience and express the fullness of the music.
As you listen, notice the stunning range of sound textures, the dynamics of pitch and volume. As you dance this music, tease out the thread of one instrument and follow that for a while, then try another. Take a horn for a while, then get into the drum or the clarinet. Practice following your instrument through the tapestry of other voices. Embody the themes of the music as whole, rising, swelling, subsiding, delicate, intense. Just feel it.
Musicality is a core element of Oriental dance.
Because we have micromovement, we are free to adapt our movements to embody and express all the subtle nuances that we hear and feel from the music.
Part of it is Timing–knowing when to change, to pause, to speed or slow, to hit an accent, because that is what the music does. Knowing because you can feel it coming, rather than because you have memorized a recording.
But it is also responding to dynamics in the music–coloring our movement with its timbres, force, volume, and pitch. Allowing ourselves to feel and express its emotional content. Having enough confidence in ourselves as dancers to react with authority, to be with the music, to trust our bodies to saw what we feel in our heart.
I made the class Embodiment to help dancers explore musicality in an organized, thoughtful way. But as we have progressed through the BEDROCK series, I’ve found myself wanting to explore it in a more organic way as well. Sooo…
Our next series will be BEDROCK 3: Musicality (it even rhymes ; )
Each week we will listen, to samples of music, and to how we feel that music in our bodies. We will explore how we might interpret the musical dynamics though our physical expression. We will follow physical demonstrations of musicality, and we will have free improvisation time to explore music with our own bodies.
A while back, someone asked me to “focus on the state of mind of the dancer when she improvs and techniques.” I think this asks about the difference in mind space between improv and technical practice. I can only speak for myself, but this is what I find.
Many years ago, I danced at a Dowser’s meeting. It was a brightly lit room and everyone stared at me very hard. They weren’t mean, they were just paying attention. But it rattled me; I felt self-conscious and never relaxed into the moment. Later, one of the women told me briskly, “Your spirit guide is an Egyptian woman. I could see her behind you. And you think too much when you dance.” She sure was right about the thinking.
At that time in my dance, embodiment was hit or miss. I sometimes got into the zone, but I could’t do it reliably. Like the Room of Requirement in Harry Potter, it turned up here and there, but go looking for it, and you come up empty-handed. It wasn’t until I got introduced to rhythmic breath that I started to reach that zone on a regular basis.
What is the technique headspace?
When I am teaching a regular class, for example, I am watching the students, thinking what’s next, organizing and planning. I am not so much in a state of flow. The same when I am leading a move across the floor (or following one). There’s a lot of mental errand running. If I am practicing technique, making or learning a move or a combo or whatever, I am in an intellectual headspace, observing, assessing, adjusting.
There’s nothing wrong with this.
As dancers, we want to improve. Talent has been defined as a reduction of errors. So we look to see where we miss the mark and fix it. Arms, hands, posture, openness, everything is measured, tested, tweaked. That’s fine and normal. But then we get to where we can let that level of attention go. My goal in practicing new things is to integrate them, so they become embodied, habitual, and I don’t have to think about them any more.
The problem is when analysis interferes with embodiment.
Dancing (as opposed to practicing technique) on stage or at home in assessment mode is a drag. Self-judging, self-doubt, etc are real buzz-kills. And the most random things threw me off! Silence, for example. I had a piece I started with my back to the guests for the first few bars, and then spun around. One time the silence that greeted that spin was deafening. I have since learned that silence is good (it means folk are paying attention), but this was so intense, I faltered and totally lost my groove—and never got it back for the whole show.
Dancers can be a terrible audience. They sit in the front row and squint at you. Seeing a frowning front row of dancers has tossed me out of my zone, as I wonder what I’m dong wrong and why they hate me. They don’t. They’re just trying to figure out what color is my underskirt, if my dress would fit them, where I got my earrings, if they know that step. But it used to really throw me for a loop.
Dancemeditation™ changed that for me.
Because now I had rhythmic breath. So when I got rattled, I could go back to my breath and re-immerse myself in the zone. I could reliably get there, and reliably stay there. Plus I matured as a dancer, and realized that silence was a compliment, and dancers were just interested (and maybe nearsighted). So I could more easily let go of my ever-ready self-doubt and enjoy my time on stage.
Keith Richards once said, “You don’t think on stage; you go into a zone.”
That’s exactly right. When I am in the zone, I notice everything—the coming waiter, the drunk at the third table, the audience. The other dancers in the wings, the band—but none of them have any emotional weight. They are logistical; they get dealt with intuitively rather than through mental effort. I notice them and let them go. I feel spacious and intense at the same time, fully pointed and completely loose. My body is in sync with the music and so is my breath.
The music is everything.
When I am in this state, there is a lot of room in the music. I feel relaxed. I take my time. It gives me everything I need. If all else fails, I map my body and face into a state of joy and dance that.
If I’m dancing on recorded music, I may have something I want to express. I may even have a score worked out—a loose choreography / structured improvisation of content and blocking. I rarely do sequences of moves—most of my choreographed dances are theatrical or conceptual arrangements. So I don’t have to limit myself to how I felt when I composed the dance (even when I make regular choreographies, I am always throwing things out in performance, because they are always too busy and I need more space). And I often dance to songs I’ve never heard just for that live music thrill.
I approach theatrical dance as structured improvisation.
I create a framework that contains any narrative, symbolism, even staging and movement highlights. So I always know what I want to say, but I don’t have to memorize a lot of details. Because it is just a framework! I can change bits, leave them out, or add them in on the fly. This allows me to be in The Zone, to be present and engaged, even with a fairly complex framework. I’ll be teaching this model soon in Wonderland: Theatrical Expression for Oriental Dance (an expansion of a segment from How to Create Dance Art).
With a live band, all I do is plan the set list with the musicians. And that may be an emotional arc rather than specific songs. Then I literally just go out and wing it. That is my favorite. At my best, I luxuriate in the music, phasing in and out of time, slow, at speed, slow. I don’t dance on every beat. I let a lot of music go by, and work in slow-motion. Anytime I get rattled, I go back to my breath and slow movement.
But what about a group dance?
Of course, as soloists, we have autonomy. But with group dances throwing things out just confuses the hell out of everyone else—unless you plan for it. You can compose group dances without set steps, using conceptual frameworks, so everyone knows the story arc and what’s going to happen when. Then you get to have a lot of fun onstage with your friends and the story takes on a lot of intensity and playfulness.
When I do group dances for students, they come up with all the steps. I am the art director, so I wrangle the order, repeats, etc. But they contribute to that, too. So we have fun dances they thunk up themselves—which means they learn faster, remember better, and generally have a much deeper investment—and spend less time thinking onstage.
An improv performance (or practice) is all about making space to be in the moment. So that is what we practice—getting reliably into the zone with breath, slow movement, and related strategies. In the zone, there is a sense of timelessness and being fully present. The sense of “I” disappears; the dancer feels connected viscerally to the music in a state of exalted oneness.
The Zone: That’s what we’re going for. That’s what we’re practicing.
All my love, Alia
PS Here’s an Improv prompt.
One thing dancers fear is getting stuck in one move and not being able to think of anything else. Yet we hear of all these great dancers of the past who did maybe 4 moves their whole show and everyone loved them. So how do we get confident and comfortable with a limited palette?
Dance with only one move for a whole song. I know, right? Boring! But it’s not. The beauty of our dance is micro movement. That means each iteration of each move is different from any other—like snowflakes. So each figure 8 is different. You can vary the move by speed, size, force, height, or width, also by segmenting (starting and stopping), by alternating slow and fast, big and small, etc. And yes, you can change sides. But just one movement. No combinations. So just a figure 8, hip drop, circle, undulation, etc. Your choice.
Once you choose, woohoo! Just let anything come out, any part of your body, any kind of decoration. You can even do the exact same thing for the whole song–and feel just fine about it.
Music! Radio Bastet, all vintage belly dance vinyl. You can stream the podcasts at http://radiobastet.libsyn.com/. Just click on the little grey pod button to the top left of each episode.
When mammals enter a novel environment, they look around. They explore the space with their eyes. This is called Exploratory Orienting. It is all about curiosity, a relaxed, engaged process. Mammals do it many times in a day.
There is also another kind of orienting. Defensive Orienting, which happens in response to a perceived threat, is about fight or flight. Where is the exit? Where is the safest place? How do I get there? It is adrenaline and contraction. All your friends who want to sit in the Godfather/Shane seat, back to the wall, so they can see the whole room? Defensive Orienting.
This is one of the cool things I learned in the three-year Somatic Experiencing® (SE) training. Through this, I realized that I generally engaged in Defensive Orienting when I entered a new space–like a party. I did not look around with curiosity. I found a secluded spot, and I stayed there, eyeing the room for threats. Defensive Orienting.
It has been very interesting to shift my awareness to Exploratory Orienting. I now begin all my groups with some orienting, letting the eyes look around the room, settling on whatever they enjoy. We explore our other senses as well–hearing (our fastest sense), smell, taste–and touch. Our bodies in the chair, the feeling of clothes on our bodies, the air on our skin–and we go inside as well–what is going on in there?
SE is about what is happening inside our bodies–as is Oriental dance.
In SE, we track sensations associated with challenging memories and triggering events, and we also build and grow sensory resources— feelings associated with success, joy, and pleasure.
In Oriental dance, the feeling is the most important thing–the emotional timbres that come and go in the music and also the physical pleasure of the dance movement it self. We get to relax, to enjoy the isometric pull of our muscles as our bodies respond to the music, revel in the juiciness of them.
So what does Orienting have to do with all this?
Well, I noticed that I was doing Defensive Orienting even when I danced.
Wow.
Part of me was protecting myself from my guests. So I didn’t really look at them, and there was a defensive quality in my presence. This made it hard to be genuine, relaxed, and present.
This resonates with keeping the eyes more fixed, staring at screens–these behaviors reinforce one another. I’ve written before about how eye work improved my vision. It’s improved more than that.
So I changed my approach.
I began intentionally taking the time to orient. As I gazed around, I sat with the discomfort that arose and let it pass through me. I made the time to settle. And dance became easier. Friendlier. When the body feels settled so many more options come online.
And this is what our dance is really about–Personality. Presence. Communication. Joy. We really can have it all.
We can have it with our choreographed performance and also with our improvisation. Feeling settled and relaxed makes it so much easier to enjoy the music, to be present in the moment.
We can have this in our daily lives as well. My regular life has vastly improved. Yes, I have also done a lot of SE work–because even small bits have made big differences, I keep going. Even the first session caused marked differences.
I have been building Orienting in to all my classes. It’s a big feature of the improv Fun Classes, and Tuning In is pure SE.
I invite you to try it out–what might a more settled nervous system do for you–and your dance?
Both the below classes will soon be available on demand! Stay tuned to our newsletter to know when!
How to Improvise to Classic Songs
This is not your “classic” song class. We will not work on technique or pop-bead combinations. We will focus on the structural elements of classic songs, the phrases and measures, the sections and the organization, so we can understand and predict changes–and feel confident when dance to any song that comes our way. We’ll let ourselves feel and respond to the emotional timbres. We’ll allow our bodies to respond freely to the music, as we let our feeling express itself.
Each class is recorded (instructor view). The sound is beautiful! Each recording is available for one week, so you can review or catch up. Each week gets a playlist of songs to use for practice. We may explore some standbys along with less-known treasures.
Improv to Classic Songs is a FUN Class Deep Dive. It runs five Weeks, Sept 8 – Oct 6. Tuesdays at 4PM ET. Register for Classic Songs here.
If your daily life needs more attention, you might enjoy
Tuning In–Medicine for Modern Times
This little half hour packs a lot of power. Sometimes we do more soothing things, sometimes more active, sometimes both. But every exercise is all about re-regulating the nervous system to the body can settle, and life has room for more savor, ease, and joy. We use gentle movement, breath, and body-based strategies to bring calm in the here and now. These strategies can be used any time to help the body feel more relaxed and grounded. Each class is recorded (instructor view). Each recording is available for one week.
Tuning In runs five Weeks, September 18-Oct 23 (no class Oct 9). Fridays, 4-4:30 PM EDT. Register for Tuning In here.
One of our central concepts of improv is to let the body lead, to let it move as it wishes. But what does this really mean? We are so used to calling the shots of what our bodies do, that when we stop for a moment, nothing happens. Which can be pretty scary, since we are dancers. So sometimes we have to wait.
And that’s not a bad thing. When old Arab guys compliment my dancing, they often say that I wait for the music. A famous quote from Martha Graham is, “Don’t just do something–stand there.” So there is something to be said for patience.
Elena Lentini says that when she doesn’t know what to do, she walks in a circle around the stage. She just walks, sometimes with her hands clasped behind her back, focused, apparently deep in thought. She is waiting for something to come.
I’ve also seen her turn when the music is not speaking to her, once for five minutes straight. She slowed down periodically as she tested where the song was now, but when she did not find a toehold, she just started turning again. She wasn’t thinking about what to do–she was patiently listening to the music and her body, waiting for a physical impulse that would lead her to the next round of movement.
Here are some cues that can help us get out of our body’s way.
Lead with alternative body parts. The elbow, say, or the knee. Or the shoulder blade. Let it pull you around the room–and then let it push you.
Use low space. Lie on the floor and roll around at a continuous rate–keep a movement flow, so you never stop, but slow down a lot.
Use glacially slow movement. Let the shape of the movement evolve–we usually decide in advance what shape we will make–a circle, an infinity, a hip drop. Try letting the body decide, and give it space by moving so slowly there is plenty of time for it to change on its own. Be an observer rather than an initiator.
Dance only on the AndOne (from the second half of the four through the one): AndOne (andtwo andthree andfour) AndOne (andtwo andthree andfour). And then just waft through the next few beats. Take your time. Enjoy the space. After a while, maybe dance the one and two. Or the one and three. Or the one and the four. Mix n match.
Let me know how it goes! You can see how it goes for me this Sunday–I will be performing imprivisation to live music from Cairo via Zoom! The Camp Negum Online Hafla! 17:00 UK time, 12 noont EDT. I hope to see you there! https://faridadance.com/our-events/
Living in Vermont has turned out to be lucky in several ways–the most recent being that there aren’t so many people here, so the whole covid safety thing has been much easier than it might have been. The scarcity of people has also turned out to be lucky for dance in the time of covid. Because there is such a small pool of local folks interested in dance, I have had to go far afield–and the simplest way to do that has been online courses–and yes, dancing for the camera.
I am fortunate there, too, having become an early adopter of online courses at the college level, so I already knew how to design classes and effectively present material online. Thanks to Occupy Wall Street, I took an early interest in livestreaming as well, and have been livestreaming dance since 2012.
Here are a few things I’ve learned.
Preparation
This is aaallll the groundwork that makes a presentation successful. Having a suitable camera, learning the software, preparing your space to be filmed, lighting, sound, workflow, decent internet, etc. This all has a steeper learning curve than I ever expected, and I am still finding out new things, adapting to Zoom’s recent upgrades, and always improving the quality of my work. It is simpler to make things look good when they are pre-recorded; live work is a whole other ball game (the class Zoom Secrets covers all this in-depth).
Top Takeaway? Light yourself nicely. It’s not that hard–a few daylight bulbs, white cloth/cardboard, and clamp lamps will do it.
Presenting
This was hard. It is for many of us. We worry–who is out there looking at us? and that No-one is out there at all! As an introvert, the camera felt judgmental (and I wasn’t wild about myself on the recording, either–more on that later). But I learned.
Top Takeaway? Treat the camera like a friend (a specific friend you love!). Use your monitor to treat yourself like a friend, too. Laugh, flirt, joke, smile. Create a warmth and welcome for yourself.
This helped me survive being stuck in a small town far away from any dance classes.
And now thanks to covid, we are all pretty much stuck. And there is no end in sight. So even though we may live in an area with plenty of people to come to our classes or presentations, we need to develop our online abilities.
So I’ve been bringing my skills to the table to help us all out. Might as well make lemonade, right? And some things you can read about, but these camera skills benefit from live practice with warm, appreciative friends. Sooo, Announcing ….
How to Dance (or speak!) for the Camera.
July 13-Aug 28. Small Group meeting times will be planned with the group. Five live biweekly small-group practice sessions plus two individual private conferences. This course helps dancers, teachers, entrepreneurs (and others) communicate through the camera.
Learn to feel relaxed and natural, to find your voice, and to create a vibrant on-camera experience.
PS remember, we have a coronavirus summer special on all Teachable courses. Coupon code: SUMMERCORONACARE Click the course you want. Click “Enroll in Course,” Add coupon on the next screen.
