Thought Volcano: A Movement Journal

Dance as Therapy

2011-07-03T19:12:00.001-07:00

Most of you know the beginning of this because I write about it all the time...but my posts about Pratt have brought some people into interest in what I'm doing, as they are considering the same degree. So here's my story and where I am, mostly for my own record. (If you're only interested in the current part, look for the dashes and just begin reading there)

I started dancing in July 2003 (really dancing, instead of piddling about in classes that had to relate to theater). I started with bellydance and was immediately hooked, taking two classes a week at Zanzibar and then in New York when I moved back to college for my senior/supersenior years.

I was highly depressed in July 2003 and seeking help for an eating disorder that I had developed in 2002 after years of Just Your Average American Eating Disorder (because we're all pretty disordered, aren't we?). It had gotten really bad when I moved to Budapest for 6 months and was able to fully immerse myself in all kinds of self-destructive behavior. By the time I came back to the States, I must have had body dysmorphia as well (as a part of the Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified), because I had absolutely no idea that I was quite emaciated, having left the States six months prior as my still-curvy self. I was confused that, even as I gained some healthy weight in July and August, thinking I was back to me, my college friends were shocked when I returned to Bard. I am relieved that I developed this issue at 20 years old as opposed to a full blown ED earlier in life, when I think it would have been harder to recover. I am relieved that I was honest with my family and friends and asked for help in the beginning. For several months, I really thought I was getting better, but I was actually losing weight because all I was doing was shifting my compulsive tendencies to new compulsions. The bellydance started out as a way to cheat my therapist and pretend that I wasn't compulsively exercising because I was "dancing." It turned out that I started to have to look in the mirror a lot more than I was ready for, and in seeing my movements in the mirror, I slowly had to admit to myself that I didn't look right. I was way too small for my body. There were several milesones along the way in the Bard College Bellydance Collective, and by the time I got back to Chattanooga in 2005, where I started my bellydance studies, I would jokingly tell people on the first class "I bellydance because it's cheaper than therapy." At that point, I had left my therapist in New York and felt that I was doing pretty well because I was back to a curvy weight (though maybe overweight at that time) and was feeling pretty confident as a recent college graduate. I had done my senior thesis in psychology on eating disorders and identity and felt like I had very consciously cleared myself of all my issues through approaching it academically.

In 2006 I was trying to help an art therapist find grants and drove through a tunnel one day thinking "I wonder if I could be a bellydance therapist..." I put the idea away because I still felt like my abilities in dance of any kind were not worth mentioning. At that time, I was completely obsessed with anything happening as a student and was craving any performance opportunity I could get my hands on. My compulsive exercise had faded, but my compulsion to master bellydance technique had replaced that drive. There were times that this was healthy and times when it was a darker side of dance for me. I taught a camp for teens using dance as a therapeutic tool and began to see all the possibilities of using bellydance for something that would coincide with my passion for social work, psychology, feminism, activism, etc. I tried to keep quiet about my interest, though, because I still considered myself a non-dancer, and all dance other than bellydance terrified me. I tried a Modern class around this time and actually really enjoyed it and kept up okay, but it was terrifying to be out of my comfort zone. I took Nia for some time and got more into yoga and trying to branch out slowly, bit by bit. But everything was always about whether or not it would support my bellydance habit.

In early 2008, I applied for a job as a psych tech at an eating disorder unit. I wanted badly to get back into working with eating disorders, but I didn't get the job and stayed at the Partnership working with victims of family violence. In the interview with them, I sheepishly admitted my own history and how I had dreamed of using bellydance therapeutically, especially in working with eating disorders. They looked at me kind of funny and asked if I knew that dance therapy was something that you could really do as a degree. I said I did know that, but I didn't really. I think I had heard of it but didn't consider myself a dancer, so I had a hard time adjusting to the idea that it was a possibility for me to pursue. Their suggestion of it made me reconsider, as if they had given me permission to explore this idea. However, I was really attached to my new marriage, my friends, my family, and my relationship to the studio where I was getting more and more responsibilities and opportunities. In fact, I was trying to collaborate with Juli Downum on figuring out a way to offer bellydance in a more accessible, therapeutic way, but I didn't know what I was going for. I knew I was ready to quit my job in order to be able to not be on call during my dance classes and be able to teach when Juli moved. I did quit and found a new non-profit job with more pay and no on-call requirement. I signed up for the yoga teacher training and mentally committed my life to movement. A few months later, I think in the fall, I met Melissa Meade while teaching one of my early bellydance classes at Zanzibar (I had begun subbing in 2006, teaching a 3 person class in 2007, and then got hired to teach a few weekly classes in 2008---that eventually was reduced to just one night a week). We talked about the healing power of dance, and she told me that she was in a program for Dance/Movement Therapy and that it was a distance program. My jaw dropped because I had no idea that there were distance programs because all the ones I had found were in other states. Around that time, I received a letter from myself that I had written six months prior in a team-building exercise at my former family violence unit job. The letter was a drawing of me bellydancing in front of a group of women in a non-profit, my depiction of "dance therapy" as I knew it to be in my mind. It was a letter telling me to pursue this goal.

I got some information from Melissa and began hungrily researching what the requirements were. As a psych major, I wasn't concerned about most prerequisites, but I was concerned about how the program asked you to have an extensive dance background in at least two forms of dance, one of them being modern dance. I started researching modern classes that fall and landed in a few of Katie Kasch's Contrapasso classes, which I loved but whose schedule conflicted some with my bellydance evenings. I became determined to get in this program. I had been lusting after the Chattanooga State dance program that summer, when it had just begun. But I had recently accepted a new day job and couldn't justify going to school at that time. When I found out about the modern requirement, I called up Ann Law and started explaining what my goals were and trying to figure out how to take her modern class. Meanwhile, my amazing job at Signal Centers granted me permission to take a lunch at 9am to take her modern class down the street (at that time we were finding out that we were going to get laid off in the summer anyway). Expecting modern technique, I was a little confused at first on what Ann was teaching because it was so different from everything I had known in our very technique-driven studio. I quickly fell in love with her approach and work, and by the time I realized that it wasn't technique, I didn't care and quit my job a month earlier than our lay-off date so that I could enroll in all of her classes as well as the aerial dance classes. Irritatingly, it turned out that my first day of school was the last day that anyone had to show up to the office, so I should have just waited to get laid off! Oh well.

Throughout that year, I would sometimes run into Melissa at eating disorder events and find out what she was up to---she was working at the same eating disorder unit! It was amazing to watch what she was doing and see all kinds of strange little coincidences pop up. Meanwhile, my father at some point got hired to work at the same place.

All this was happening as I was opening up the Asala Center to begin offering Constructive Living and movement as a private practice, and then I found out that my teacher was moving and selling her studio. I was in the market to buy it since I knew that my future was in movement, but I lost the opportunity and decided that I would have to focus on actually getting in to this grad program. In retrospect, all things worked out, but it was a very confusing and difficult time, and I doubted strongly that I would be able to get in the program. Meanwhile, I was completely in love with the work going on at Chattanooga State, and it was changing my views on dance and dance education forever. I began to get into my teaching groove much more and began to explore opening up my performance repetoire outside of just dancing happy/silly dances.

Ann hired Monica to teach more of a technique class, and I found that, yet again, I had a reason to continue taking everything I could at Chatt State (and wherever else I could get a class of jazz/hiphop/ballet/whatever). By now, bellydance was still my main squeeze, but my movement explorations were no longer just for the purpose of expanding my bellydance abilities. By now I was in love with movement for movement's sake.

After taking a semester of technique classes from Monica and signing up for more in the fall of 2010, I decided it was time to apply to Pratt. I felt that my modern technique still had a long way to go but was beginning to feel more diverse as a mover in general and decided to see what Pratt said. After all, the worst they could say was no, and I had already committed in my mind to continue with modern until they or another program would accept me.

I applied in October 2010 and couldn't come up for the movement interview because I had to teach that night (and it was very short notice for a plane ticket). I requested to come in the next movement interview, which ended up in January. Of course, that was the week that Chattanooga got entirely shut down due to a blizzard. I could not get on my plane, and New York shut down pretty much as well. Eventually Pratt contacted me and realized that I was applying for March 2011 (a fax mishap in their office cut off that part of my app), so they rushed my application, and I submitted movement improvisation on youtube as well as some performance clips from Mirabai. Performance was not what they were interested in, and when I spoke to the director of the program in the Barking Legs parking lot, it turned out that modern technique was not what they were interested in, either. It turned out that improvisation was much more applicable to dance therapy, which is what I had been practicing with Ann for over two years at that point. I got accepted into the program on the phone and was given some time to decide whether or not I would join this year.

-----------------

Just a few weeks before the program was to begin, I was accepted and confirmed my enrollment.

I didn't truly expect to get accepted because of my patchy dance background, so I had signed up to take Rachel Brice's 8 Elements Initiation certification and General Skills of American Tribal Style with Carolena Nericcio in April. I went to ten days of grad school in Brooklyn in March, came home for about ten days, and left to be certified in 8 Elements and General Skills for ten days. I returned to non-stop performances every weekend (MANY performances every weekend) and finally began to breathe sometime in May. Then on June 12, I left town, not to return until over a month later.

For a year now, I've been nursing a left hip injury which has changed my dancing, my psyche, and my way of interacting with the world. I had been hoping that being away from my intensive daily movement regiment would help give the hip some time to heal. If it doesn't heal by the end of this month, I will seek medical advice. While being away from my daily movement routines is healing for my body at this time, it brings up old eating disorder worries about weight gain. I have had to be careful about this time away and how I relate to it. This program is experiential, which means that we are experiencing therapy-esque environments as well as engaging in a practicum where we teach kids every morning. This program pushes you beyond your known capacities in an intensive fashion, which is rather the way I like it. However, it certainly brings your issues up to the surface to be addressed. So here I am, nursing a movement injury, nursing emotionally-loaded skin infections that are coming up due to stress (I believe), and nursing my old ED wounds by being put in an environment where I can't keep my movement routine up the way I like nor eat the way I like because of what's offered in the stores here.

It's exacly what needs to be happening right now.

But where will this lead in terms of dance?

It's really interesting/odd/anxiety-provoking/refreshing etc. to be using movement only as therapy this month. I have been performing a lot for the last couple of years (too much at times), and this is a chance to shift my purpose of movement to something more internal. I'm really curious to see how this experience will alter my performance self, and I'm a little nervous but interested to see how the lack of consistent technique training will alter my body's abilities for when I return. Perhaps it will be healing to my injury? Perhaps I will lose something I wanted to keep? Perhaps I will lose something which isn't me and allow for something new to emerge? I'm interested.

The movement classes here began as Laban focused. We have been learning how to describe and analyse movement behavior from a Laban perspective. I am loving that because I have had an academic crush on Laban for some time---thanks, Marissa Nesbit ;) I adore my Movement Behavior instructor Ted Ehrhardt. He is a kind LMA and dance therapist who teaches using a very kinesthetic teaching style. The Laban concepts are fascinating, though it's interesting to try to apply to bellydance, which is so torso-oriented that the Laban work doesn't seem to always resonate for what we do. But I love asking Ted trick questions about mayas and shimmies! I am really happy to have another set of classes with Ted next year.

When we got here to New Hampshire, I began studying under Elissa Q. White, who studied directly with Marian Chace (a Denishawn dancer who somewhat serendipitously created the field of dance therapy), Bartenieff, and all sorts of amazing people. After just five days of studying under Elissa, I feel like I have a MUCH more realistic grasp on what dance therapy can be. We are learning how to lead Chace groups in a tiny class of only four students (two second years and two first years---same as our class with Ted). This is a skill I'll be using in an internship in the fall, and I'm happy to have the kinesthetic experience of having to do it here with direct guidance (though it's quite scary). The more I read about dance therapy, the more I think that reading about it doesn't do much. It's a non-verbal experience, and I don't think that words quite do it justice. However, I am enjoying my readings.

This weekend I am writing a paper about my work with the kids this week, which has been an amazing learning experience already. I am blessed to be working with an awesome co-leader who has some really fantastic ideas for movement as well as art (which is her focus). We are being co-taught by an art therapist as well as a dance therapist, both of whom have great input that I've been able to try on.

We also are in class we call Group, which is similar to a group therapy session...but not therapy. It's completely impossible to describe, but we're being led by the directors of the art therapy and dance therapy programs, and I am loving the experience of having them lead the group...even if it means that I cry about seeing mountains. (I was homesick).

This program is highly integrated between art therapy and DMT, which is really interesting for me. While I'm in my comfort zone with movement, I get to experience what art therapy might really be like by trying on art therapy experiences as someone who doesn't do visual art. It's tweaking my creative brain and helping me to learn a lot about myself and others and groups.

You'll see in my photos a lot of weird art that I or my group has made---I am not a visual artist, but it's been really fun to play with materials and feel like a kid again. We do a lot of art and are slowly getting more movement into our classes (there are only 2 DMT students and 10 art therapy students in our year).

If you're one of the ones interested in this program, see if this description leads you to any questions you can ask me, and I'll be happy to try to answer.

Dance Blog for Chattanooga State

2011-01-04T08:24:00.000-08:00

It's January 1, and my body hurts from wearing heels and staying up too late last night. I find myself wiggling as I type, trying to move out the tension. I am picturing the first time that Ann had us use kinesthetic awareness work on the balls and how lovely it felt to use my own body weight to massage out muscular tension. I enjoyed the process so much that I bought tons of playground balls and bring them into my yoga classes sometimes to try to help people experience the relaxation that I felt first using this method.

Ann's voice is incredibly soothing, and she artfully guided us through a process of lying down on the ground to first notice the way our body was naturally falling on the ground. Where did we feel uneven? What areas were tense? Then we used the balls to gently work out areas of tension. It was the most luxurious dance class I had ever taken---we just took our time, for over thirty minutes, paying attention to our bodies and taking care of them. By the time we were done, I was like putty on the stage floor, totally relaxed but ready to move and dance and create.

Right now, feeling unbalanced from a late night, too much fun, and high-heeled boots, I'm wishing that the dance classes started tomorrow so that I'd have the clean floor space of the theater to roll around on and get moving! Dance at Chatt State addict that I am, though, at LEAST I am prepared with a crate full of Spongebob and Spiderman balls. After I finish typing, I'm heading straight to the floor to roll around!

on fusion from the other side

2010-12-15T20:18:00.000-08:00

Poster for Journey Through Time and Space

The style of dance that I normally do is tribal fusion . Some choose to call it bellydance, and others don't like the associations that that name brings. Fusion is a funny thing---I've been told the following things about "tribal fusion," among other things:
"I love tribal fusion because it can be anything!"
"That's not tribal fusion because it doesn't look enough enough like bellydance."
"Those tribal wackos are performing just theater, not anything authentic."
"Is it fusion or CONFUSION?"
"Don't let it become DIFFUSION"
"You should not call it fusion unless you've actually studied the dance form you are fusing with bellydance. Otherwise, call it 'inspired',"
"It's not really tribal fusion because it's a solo..."
"That's burlesque."
"That's modern dance."
"That's hiphop."
"I like it, but I'm not sure it's bellydance."
"That made me horny."
"Tribal fusion has lost all sensuality."
"That's gothic/dark fusion."
"I loved seeing your cabaret piece!" (said regarding my biker mustache piece?)
"With your cabaret background, ___x_____" ?????

Further down this complicated path, you can check out this interesting take on Tribal Fusion and all things "tribal" here: scroll down to Tribal Fusion if you want to open the can of semantic worms. And yet another great article...by Asharah

The first time I heard the word "fusion" brought into my dance training was in 2003. I was a wee baby dancer in the Bard College Bellydance Collective in Annandale-on-Hudson, NY. I was told that two of my idols were about to perform what they could only laughingly describe as "bellydance-flamenco fusion." I had only heard "fusion" in terms of food places and never really got what it meant on menus. At that stage in the bellydance community, "tribal fusion" wasn't as prevalent a term, at least not on the East Coast---The Indigo was just forming, and the internet was not as large a part of everyone's lives yet, so the coasts didn't necessarily know as easily what each other was doing. My first teacher originally Andrea didn't need to really emphasize what type of bellydance she taught since she was the main teacher in town, but she drew from cabaret, tribal, jazz, ballet, flamenco, etc. My other early teacher Allegra taught unique movements and choreographies that I would probably now call "Tribaret" but felt quite traditional and not particularly "fusion" based. We were a unique group in that many of our costumes had a homemade cabaret feel, we danced traditional-feeling choreographies, and our music was distinctly Classical Arabic 99% of the time. On the other hand, we were a gigantic group of subversive, feminist, and funky people that identified with the "tribal" sense of community and liked the earthy aesthetic in movement and often the garb. We were also poor college students, so we made anything we wore.

Then Victoria and Irina performed one of two dances that changed my life in December 2003. The dancers had both been studying both bellydance and flamenco, and their piece was strong, sensual, earthy. That dance and Allegra's jaw-droppingly beautiful sword dance struck a chord in my healing anorexic body and mind. That night's show convinced me that I was getting this "woman" thing all wrong and needed to investigate what happened when one would eat like a normal person. I ate some soup and drank wine with the ladies that night and felt warm and full and womanly. A stark contrast to hours earlier, when I said to my emaciated self "it's okay to eat the fat free fro-yo today because you're supposed to be proud of your large belly and you're going to dance it off anyway. If you don't dance it off, the gym is open 24-7." When I later saw the photo of that "large belly," I was horrified and was happy to embrace the warmth of those dancing sisters with their beautiful natural bodies, smiles, and laughs.

"Fusion"---whatever it was, was something I liked from then on.

Because of their flamenco training, Victoria and Irina were making an actual fusion, if you define the word the way Amy Sigil does. Amy would argue that most dances in the bellydance community are not "fusion" but "inspirations."

I didn't realize that what I was being taught in Chattanooga was "tribal fusion" until a few years later, when the fusion became more obvious and our distinction from American Tribal Style became very clear as I learned more and more about the different genres of bellydance.

I remember being taught my own flamenco fusion piece and wanting so very badly to nail it. It was hard and a different style than I was used to---I wasn't nailing it, and the feel was not the delicious strength I remembered in Victoria and Irina. However, the politics of dance at the time and my own frustration with myself made that dance strongly cathartic to practice, and I remember connecting to my own anger through stomping and clapping and thinking "well no wonder flamenco emerged."

There were times that the fusion element lost me---while I liked to watch other people dance it, I wasn't feeling my first introduction to jazz or hip hop fusion. I felt like a big dork and just wanted to shimmy and maya all day long. In 2006 I took my first modern dance class since junior high at 9:30am from Elizabeth Longphre on a Saturday. I was completely out of my element and was the only person there except for someone who was incredibly well-versed in modern dance. I flung myself through it and eventually seemed to catch on in my body---but my brain wasn't sure what was happening. As much as I liked the movement, I was scared to go back as a beginner. I didn't return to modern outside of bellydance stylings until 2008 when I found Katie Kasch and began dabbling with her classes at Contrapasso. Then I dove into Ann Law's Dance Program from 2009 until present and started taking anything I could get my hands on, thanks to the empowering nature of the Chatt State Dance Program.

During my period of not taking other dance classes and focusing entirely on bellydance, I was still fusing other elements of dance into my bellydance, as happens with "tribal fusion." The funny thing about tribal fusion in the way that I've experienced it is that emphasis is often placed on the technique of our very specific "basic position," muscular isolations, texture of the isolations, aesthetic arms, moving in time to the music, etc. I found myself intrigued when I heard ballet dancers talking openly about "good technique" and assuming I knew what good ballet technique is.

As far as I can tell so far, good ballet technique and good tribal fusion technique are fairly contradictory. My specific tribal fusion training has me NEVER turning out my feet, ALWAYS bending my knees, ALWAYS "tucking" the pelvis (though i hate that term b/c it's misleading), ALWAYS coming from a foot position which is between first and second parallel in ballet. Meanwhile, as I've been working on Journey Through Time and Space, I've been having to fight muscle memory and weaknesses to turn out my feet, straighten my knees, release the pelvis more than normal, and find new feet positions. Meanwhile, they are actually paying attention to my FEET, which isn't exactly the emphasis when your feet are half the time covered by giant skirts and pantaloons---should we be more aware now that TF costuming is more and more incorporating pants and shorts and whatever we feel? YES. (Thanks to Natalie Brown for her helpful noting of that fact in the Devil in the Details workshop). The angles that we're using in Journey have subtle differences to angles we would use in tribal fusion to emphasize our hips---Journey's use of floor patterns, unison and contrast, and all these choreographic choices are things that are often never addressed or analyzed in tribal fusion. Traditionally, TF uses a great deal of unison, and our very movement vocabulary can limit us to a lot of stationary work. I giggle with delight when I recall Zafira's joke subtitle of a workshop in Atlanta, "Space: How About You Use It When You Dance?"

As tribal fusion dancers, or any form of bellydancers, we need to see what it looks like when our movement vocabulary is fused with other forms of dance FROM that other form of dance. In tribal fusion, we have become comfortable taking whatever movement we want and melding it together with the muscular isolations that we have deeply imbedded in our muscle memories. The danger is, of course, creating Con-Fusion or Dif-Fusion in the process. What happens when the techniques that we are utilizing are not immersed in our bodies? What does it look like to a jazz dancer or modern dancer when we utilize a jazz or modern combo from our frame of reference? From our different "basic dance position" even?

Meanwhile, what happens when our own movement vocabulary is utilized from another frame of reference? From another set of "technique" rules? One day in rehearsal Cornelius was talking about how we all needed to be working on our "technique" and I found this interesting b/c no one was attending bellydance technique classes, though we're using some bellydance-inspired movements as well as African, Indian, etc. It seemed obvious to everyone else that the technique we were supposed to be working on was ballet. I realized at that moment that it's an interesting thing to assume that one dance form's technique needs drilled while the other dance form is okay to mimic. In tribal fusion, we're often so focused on making sure that our head doesn't move while we pop and lock, that our hip bones are even when we do horizontal figure 8s, or that our shimmy only happens exactly where it's supposed to happen, that we often miss out on investigating the root of our movements that we're fusing. It makes me wonder what our dance looks like to those with other dance backgrounds. Is this part of why we feel like we haven't elevated our dance form?

So when it comes down to adding Western dance elements into our Middle Eastern vocabulary, where do we draw the line with our "technique?" What happens when you take two forms of movement and smush them together---whose technique do you keep for ease of movement? The original movement's source? The fused element? Who is to say which technique wins in importance? Of course, I'm biased, and I am a bellydancer at heart---so to me, to see proper bellydance technique as I have been taught it is key. But if we are to elevate our dance form, I think we need to begin to show equal respect to the dance forms from which we are taking.

Many of us have worked long and hard to challenge the stereotypes of bellydance and to prove that moving your hips doesn't have to be viewed as sexual. We have sweated for hours to perfect our precise muscular isolation techniques, and then when someone still views our movements as sexual, we get indignant and angry. All that work to be able to balance a sword while doing a 4/4 shimmy layered on top of x, ya, and z! Well, as lovely as that work is, what happens when you look beyond muscular isolation? If you blur your eyes to what's happening in your torso---how long can you watch what you're doing? Or 3 hours of similar movement? (and yes, I laud my teachers for being a breath of fresh air in terms of unique use of movement---this isn't anything that they didn't say but has been percolating in my mind since I began this journey with Journey)

Similarly, what happens when your concept of "technique" is challenged in the creation of something new? Mary Gaston put this so well watching our work tonight. She said that it was fascinating to watch another dancer's interpretation of the music (specifically a drum solo)---she said "Lauryn and I have to work within a set of rules when we choreograph, but since you don't know the rules, what you have created is incredibly unique." In Journey, the audience will see choreographic choices I wouldn't normally teach, like hip isolations executed with wide legs or an untucked pelvis. As a dancer, I have had to let my preconceived notions about my dance form to allow myself to grow and experience a new art form. You will see Middle Eastern inspirations, African inspirations, and Indian inspirations, all mixed together with ballet, modern, and jazz. Meanwhile, the elements of choreography that we often miss in our tradition are executed in stunning visuals of contrast, level changes, floor patterns, and a completely different musicality. Is this any different from what we do in our fusing of our movement vocabulary with whatever we like aesthetically from other traditions? I don't know---you tell me. Come and see.

Cooking the Raw Dance

2010-12-14T14:06:00.000-08:00

Photo by Celeste Sneed

After ditching my Soften dance at both the Learn2Bellydance Holiday Hafla and at Mainx24, I decided it had to happen at The Fringe Benefit.

Thing is, I had never finished it, even after Dances in Raw States helped me develop some ideas about a group ending.

Since it's mostly improvisation, with a very structured beginning, I called on the guru of improvisation for help---Ann Law.

Thus far, I've had a hard time figuring out how to bring structured improv into bellydance. Our movement vocabulary has felt a bit like a prison, and yet structured improv seemed too broad until now to really incorporate.

Dances in Raw States helped me begin the process of trying to integrate, but meeting with Ann was like a magic wand of integration. I am fortunate that I have been learning from Ann for almost two years at this point, so I would like to think that I get her language regarding structured improvisation. She's such a pro at creating dance structures that we were able to meet for 30 minutes, and at the end, I felt like I had the road map that I needed to complete the dance for Friday. Or rather, complete the dance ON Friday...by dancing it.

The dance is not finished, and in dancing it, I realized even more clearly that I want a group of bodies at the end of the dance to fully complete the dance. However, I think I can return to Raw States in February and revisit this dance, particularly if it becomes the dance that I use at Tribalcon if my beloved Mirababes are unable to join me, which is looking like a possibility.

Ann asked me all the right questions to help me clarify exactly what I was trying to convey with the end of my dance, at least, where it is right now. She helped me identify hooks, like focus on the hands, which grounded me into the moment of the dance when I found myself on a stage much smaller than I had anticipated, with my floor pattern taking much less time than I had expected. Instead of resorting to "the Lauryn dance," I tried to take my time and ground myself into the moment with the road map in my mind. Hands. Giving. Touching. Feeling. Soft. Flow. Rolling. Circular Pathways. Stop and center yourself, look back where you've come from---you're done with that and it's time to move on. Pause. Take your time. No need to rush, nowhere to be but here. Hands. Giving. Touching. Feeling. Feeling soft. Soft. Soften. Soften. Flow. Of course, there were moments of the Lauryn dance---way too much Maya for my taste, and why did turns come in as much as they did? That wasn't planned but came out. I still have yet to take up as much space as I want to. But this was a step---a step further than the last time, and it felt much more present and much more intentional, so there's that.

Still---next dance I create will have to be a no-maya movement study.

It felt exhilarating to do that dance, and apparently it seems different from what I normally do, which is great. Several dear friends picked up that there was a strong pop and lock element in the beginning which was reminiscent of certain styles that I don't need to be ripping off---but I am happy to say that they saw that the dance moved out of that style by the end of the dance. That was a large part of my intention, because that style, while exciting to do occasionally, is not me. I wanted to dance a dance of transition and softening and learning from consequences of pushing too hard or being pushed too hard. And I'm still figuring out where that story ends up, so it's fitting that the end is the least clear part.

But I did succeed in dancing the longest dance I've allowed myself to dance without a prop crutch. And is that audience-friendly? Maybe not, but I need to get over my attachment to pleasing the audience. It's not always about that, I am trying to tell myself. And not being funny/happy has been the first step. Not being pretty is another, and taking my damn time is another.

Improvisation---the good, the bad, and the ugly

2010-12-07T21:17:00.001-08:00

The good:
12/3 Mary's Holiday Hafla
I arrive thinking I'll dance to one song. I am feeling uninspired by the night, the song, my costume, myself. Two dances before mine is to come, Wendellyn dances to my song. She dances a beautiful choreography. When she is done, I tell Mary, and we ask what to do. I say to Mike, "Pick me a song off the cd and I'll just wing it." During Holly's dance, he throws me some earbuds and I try for about 10 secs to listen to the music---sounds slow and pretty, but with Holly dancing, I can't get much else. "That'll work" I say, and I have no idea if it will but trust Mike and trust improv, after having been doing it for a year straight in Ann and Amy's classes. I had plans for the original song---plans to use the space, plans to limit hip movement in hopes of not over-mayaing or whatever, plans to try to feel an emotional thread that was already disappearing for me before I even stepped on stage. But I let all those plans go, as I truly had no idea what was about to happen.
It was the most exhilarating dance I've done in a long, long time. I was highly present---had to be. I moved simply and honestly. I didn't try to do anything crazy, though I accidentally ended up shimmying my way down to the floor (why is it that Mary's brings out these weird shimmies from me...last hafla, I started shimmying on one knee, which I have NEVER done before and should probably never do again). Anyway, it felt amazing, and I was so glad that it turned out that way. There were subtle moments of synchronicity that excited me, and there were moments of contrast with the music that surprised me in an interesting way. I loved it. Plus, I got a lot of kudos for doing that, which always feels good, right?

The bad:
Mainx24 Wide Open Floor
I am totally bored of myself. I'm glad I chose to go less risky, as suddenly I don't feel like this audience needs to see my raw dance. But I am so very bored of myself and my movement. I'm almost embarrassed, and yet I know that the songs are pretty and that I practiced moving to them and trying to take up more space and trying to push my comfort zone yet again. Didn't feel like I pushed much. Felt very "entertain"-y even though it was slower, softer. I was not emotionally clear on what was going on as I was dancing, though I had tried to develop that idea better beforehand. I think I was just tired after performing Thurs night and Fri night. I don't think I cared anymore. Someone whose opinion I greatly respect gave me praise, but I didn't feel good about the dancing and have this feeling she's just being supportive.

The ugly:
I'm ready to revisit the ugly dance. I call it the ugly dance because I don't want it to have to be pretty. I want it to be real, and real may not be pretty when it comes out. It's my raw dance, and it's time to show it to my peers. It's not ready yet, but maybe it can be closer by Friday. Unfortunately for me, it seems as though un-ready dances are what I do...to make them ready. This dance needs to end with more people in it. There's not time for that. For some reason, for this particular benefit, this dance has to happen. It's gonna happen in some form or fashion, and I pray that I don't feel like I have to resort to the same old same old once I get there. Maybe in an audience of bellydancers I'll feel more comfortable going there than in an audience full of those accustomed to more traditional Western forms of dance. Ready or not, here we go. Thank goodness I have a happy "entertain" dance to follow it and balance me out.

A story of the songs:
October 11: I bought Solace's Gorgon Days at Triboriginal. I fell in love and planned to dance to the amazing "Never Does the Light Shine on Me." When I ordered a costume from Medina, this is what I planned to dance in it. I knew someone else would dance to it soon. I wanted to have my love affair with the song. It seemed a therapeutic balance between soft, melodic energy and sharp, staccato energy.

October 15: I am haunted by another song. It is absolutely seducing me against my will. NDTLSOM is exactly how long I want a song to be for me to dance it...this damn other song is over 6 bloody minutes. But I can't stop listening. The problem is, it's unbalanced in terms of sharp energy. Too sharp---not what I'm trying to dance. I keep picturing ripping off other people's popular styles, just to prove that I can. Unhealthy, can't dance to this song. Not now. Maybe not ever.

October 17ish or so: I read Asharah's blog, which reflects an understanding that you are drawn to dance a certain way based on your life at the time. I start to wonder why my car dances to this haunting other song are so very sharp, so very ugly, so very robotic, so very not what I normally do. I start planning to probably dance to Solace for Dance in Raw States.

October 18ish or so: I know why I am dancing in my car like this. I know the things that are too sharp, and I know why I am drawn to this movement. But I still can't dance it---it's too much like wanting to rip someone off.

November 1ish or so: I have conveniently lost my seduction song for some time. I am beginning to worry about getting my costume in time for Nov 18 and 19.

November 8ish or so: I have been listening to the Solace song---it is still beautiful. It's not doing what it did to me at first, though. I can't find the other song. I miss it. I am starting to think that maybe I could go ahead and dance the dance without ripping anyone off. My intentions about the rip-off have subsided, and I'm still aching to dance this dance.

November 11: Still haven't gotten in the studio---absolutely resisting. Found my song...and it moves me to almost tears. There's no doubt which song strikes a more current chord. But I obsess about editing the music and how to cut out at least 2 minutes of this song. I decide to only dance on Friday, not rush on Thursday.

November 15: Still haven't gotten into the studio. I tell Monica about my troubles about my music. She encourages me to go with the song that is moving me right now and to not worry about finishing or editing the piece, since the performances really are meant to be raw. Ann agrees---maybe the audience can help you finish it.

November 19: I dance it, but I cheat. I'm too scared after the first minute and resort to same old patterns, trying not to, but still jumping into them. The first minute feels like what I was wanting. The rest fades.

November 28: Being encouraged to dance that dance again for the hafla...but I'm not sure if I can do it until the Fringe. Maybe Mainx24.

Dec. 3: No, I haven't edited that song yet. I'll dance to my first love and give it a chance. Rats, someone else is dancing beautifully to that song. That song can play tomorrow. Tonight is a new game. Mike picks "Blind in One Eye," and I'm in love again. I do not get depressed after this show but instead go to bed hoping for another high tomorrow at Mainx24. I wonder if BIOE will treat me the same after the magic of the complete unknown is there.

Dec. 4: I play "Blind in One Eye" on repeat in my car all morning and am in love. I give NDTLSOM a chance in the spotlight, but I'm feeling cagey, so I use a veil and cover my belly. It feels a bit forced, though in a comfortable environment. I return to BIOE for a sword piece, and it's not like it was last night. I like the presence of the sword in front of this audience of some strangers and some friends...I like the protection of a prop. But I feel like I'm doing the same dance that I've done every day of my dancing for the last two years. I receive words of praise later from someone I truly, deeply admire...but by the end of the day, I feel bored with myself and depressed. Am I killing my dance by over-listening to my songs? I play later with improvisors and dance completely non-belly, and it feels good and freeing and yet also like a foreign language and a little naked. I cut my toe and bleed all over the floor because I can't not jump on the wall barefoot and fair to realize consequences exist.

Dec. 7. When I pushed play again tonight, it was still there. Not in the middle of the song, but for most of it. I finally emailed Stacey my music, completely unedited. I suppose I'll dance my dance unfinished again. I suppose I might walk off stage and have them fade it. I wish I could bring in other dancers for the end, but no one is used to jumping in and letting me use their bodies for organic movement. Perhaps I'll surprise myself and dance the whole piece. Perhaps it won't be the end of the world...perhaps it will bore my audience to tears.

Thoughts on Raw Dance 2

2010-11-30T04:48:00.001-08:00

I'm failing less at my improv goals each time I try them, but I still feel like I am failing at the end of the day. I don't mean this in a self-deprecating way, but just in a fact of not meeting a goal. I did meet one goal tonight---no Ghawazee 3. Next goal, unfortunately, will need to be no Maya. I think I have met my no shimmy goal in the past (not tonight b/c I planned two deliberate shimmies), but I need to watch the video. I'm trying to strip myself of my go-to moves and see what my body does. But that's just a surface layer goal to help me break out of habits.

For the ways my body and mind work, though, it seems that the best solution right now is to continue dancing them and hopefully failing less each time. Hopefully these will mostly occur in appropriate environments and not when I'm attempting to represent bellydance as an art form. Because right now, I'm not wanting to call what I do bellydance, when it's an improv experiment. But what comes out is what my body knows. The way my body works is that it has to deeply, deeply know a movement before it decides that that movement is okay to occur when adrenaline hits. The way my mind works is of a procrastinating neurotic. I'm apparently quite resistant to rehearsals with myself. In some ways, I don't mind this, but it ends up making my progress along this exploration slower.

Tonight's performance was just yet another indication that I need to be in the studio and videotaping myself much more...and watching the video. I have been putting off watching a performance I did in August since...August.

Things I'll take with me to the next Dances in Raw States night are the following:

It's interesting to hear responses from people who are not bored to death with bellydance.
It's interesting to hear responses from people who ARE bored to death with bellydance.
It's interesting to hear responses from people who don't know what the tribal fusion genre is. If for no other reason, hearing honest feedback from new viewers to fusion is rather insightful.
It's interesting, as always, to hear responses from dancers whose dance goals are separate, maybe even opposite from my own.
It's interesting to hear responses from dancers who know that our goals are different and who inspire/support my hope that there's a way for me to integrate better.
It would be interesting to hear what a room full of bellydancers had to say...but then again, I wouldn't have BELLYDANCED so much if I were in a room full of bellydancers. I know it b/c I watched my own comfort zone take hold when I meant to go to another space. I was definitely afraid to commit to anything more Western in origin knowing that there were so many modern/ballet etc dancers watching me. Is my disinterest in strict bellydance in front of bellydancers right now indicative of a similar fear of inadequacy? Maybe. Probably.

I apparently will change an entire dance based on one person I see in the room. (I do the same thing when I write---I won't write for myself, but I will write publicly. But I will censor myself if I know who is reading when I put it out there. You'll notice I won't tag anyone and will just passively put this into the world and then act surprised when I see someone respond.) I found out my Dad was coming to Amberetta's big March show, and I threw a sword into my dance based solely on that knowledge. It wasn't supposed to be a sword dance---I made it make sense to me at the time, but I have spent my life listening to Tori Amos---I can make ANYTHING make sense out of nonsense. I was scared of dancing for over 3 minutes without a prop and with subject matter that was not based on entertainment value. So I threw a prop in to try to distract my Dad from what I was saying---maybe he'd be so impressed with the damn sword that I'd get a positive response.

About the dance itself, since I didn't get to talk about that and need to put it somewhere:

The working title is/was Soften. It was inspired by my stupid injury and the things that this injury is telling me---versus my resistance to change. The song is very industrial and powerful, which makes me want to dance in a sort of goth style. However, that's the thing that needs softened a bit. So I began the dance very sharply and specifically not pretty. My arms were limp and my facial expression was probably more blank than I meant. When it comes down to it, I have a hard time projecting the really negative emotions that I was meaning to project. I feel a bit bad for the audience if I do that. Like I am yelling at them. I also specifically did not to a happy or funny dance. And that confused at least one audience member---a year ago, I would have been more concerned about this, but really, I'm trying not to stay in my comfort zone of entertainment, so this was kind of expected (I was just glad someone SAID it). I failed a bit in that I tried to pretty up what I was doing, once I was doing it. My goal was to evoke the kind of sharpness in life that gets me in trouble and to then go through a process of softening it into more integration and balance. When I was attempting to choreograph, this came out very divided---like bellydance versus modern. I had a feeling I wouldn't be able to maintain the end of the dance with only my modern movements since a) I wasn't choreographing them and b) they aren't my go-to movements or even in my body very well. So on one of my many, many car-eographing moments today, I chose to get rid of the linear transition and allow the dance to organically alternate between the two, after the beginning, which I had set in stone pretty well. Lovely thing about improv---the thing that was LEAST choreographed in the beginning, before I started chickening out, was probably my most true moment. Perhaps the dance was worth that one surprise moment for me...but I think I started chickening out right after that moment of truth and began acting. Today I was speaking to my dear cousin, who said that when she gets up to speak in public, she starts lying out of nervousness. When I was done dancing, that thought occurred to me---how do I stop from lying in my dances? Often I can start off authentic, but by the end of the dance, I feel like I'm doing the Lauryn dance and have left my meaning and structure behind.

Tonight I felt that coming on, and so I chose not to end it. I just turned around and stopped and told the audience I was done and didn't know how to end it. The responses were helpful---makes me think I need a music edit, which makes me groan because apparently I'm also quite tied to responding to the music for my every move. Apparently not all dance is based on that, and for someone who is not a musician, this is both freeing and terrifying.

A goal that was met: I tried to slow and soften my movements when the music was telling me to do something else. A goal that was NOT met: in those moments, I often responded with isolations.

A goal that was met: I followed about 3/4 of my intended floor pattern. A goal that was NOT met: the other fourth of my intended floor pattern.

A goal that was met: I did let go of some of my standard traveling moves. A goal that was NOT met: I didn't travel as much as I wanted to, in light of losing that crutch.

A goal that was met: I did turn my back to the audience at least once. For some reason, in choreographing this piece, it felt incredibly confrontational and like I had to keep constantly looking forward. But my brain said that that was going to be boring and that I needed to plan directional changes. I wasn't sure if I'd actually go through with it, until I desperately needed a moment to recharge and touch something, so I went and touched the curtain. A goal that was NOT met: doing that with a sense of purpose beyond desperation.

A goal that was met: I hit 2 of my intended "power spots." A goal that was NOT met: I did not make it to one when I was really wanting to hit it.

A goal that was met: I had some level-changing, which was something my brain said that was needed to keep things varied if I had to be dancing for over 3 minutes. A goal that was NOT met: I did not have a sense of presence or purpose that I wanted in those moments.

There might be more...but I am going to bed.

Thoughts on Raw Dance 1

2010-11-30T04:47:00.001-08:00

I remember watching Terpsichord as a high schooler and being mesmerized every time, particularly when they would perform student choreographies. I was fascinated by the idea of my peers moving bodies around in space and tell them what to do, when to do it, and how to do it. And from that, this beautiful rehearsed unison would emerge, or moments of shocking contrast. I wondered about the process---when there's so much going on onstage, my teen mind wondered, how in the world did they describe what was supposed to happen with their bodies all at once? (This was coming from someone who couldn't count music, so the whole thing was even MORE mystifying) I very rarely could have told you what I thought the dances "meant" but I knew which ones moved me and which ones didn't speak to me in that moment.

When it came to discussing all other forms of art, I felt fairly savvy. I couldn't tell you what poems meant sometimes, but I knew the English language well enough to pick out similes, metaphors, and puns and understand whether the piece spoke to me or not. Most art, theatre, or language is something I can discuss quasi-intelligently. For that reason alone, I am grateful for my arts education.

But dance?

When I began bellydancing, it was a desperate cling to something that was saving me from a big mess in my mind. I just took as many classes as I could and never looked back. Years later, I'm in the process of trying to choreograph things and have the same sense of wonder that my teen self did watching Terpsichord. I am a psychologist at heart---that to me means that whatever I'm doing, I'm curiously looking into what's going on beneath the surface. Can I articulate my guesses? Sure, but I'm much more interested in the human being that created the art and what was going on for them.

When I began taking Ann Law's Dance Composition class, it was as if someone gave me a Rosetta Stone to viewing dance---through creating improvisational group dances based on careful composition and choices, I started gaining the type of relationship to dance that I've been craving for years. Does it mean I can "read" a dance like a short story right now and give you an articulate response? Not necessarily. But I feel like I'm learning the language and beginning to try to ask for directions.

For this reason, I wanted to check out last night's Dances in Raw States without the distraction of needing to perform. I wanted to be an active audience member---in this showcase, you are asked not to just sit in a seat and let the dance happen while you mind possibly wanders in to wondering if you left the coffee pot on. You're asked for specific feedback and are asked to articulate it then and there. I have no idea what will happen tonight---there aren't rules, and whomever comes will dictate the direction of the evening. But if it's anything like what happened last night, I highly encourage all parties interested in the arts to attend. Or if not this one, check out another in a few months.

History of the Word Body

2010-11-11T21:27:00.000-08:00

I'm having an emotionally open moment and thought I'd make use of it.

I found dance through a really terrible back door---an eating disorder. Seems like often it's the reverse, and I'm lucky that dance became my healing, not my hurting in that experience. It started with bellydance, which is my main love, but I've become a movement addict over the last two years, and I will take just about anything movement/body-oriented I can find. Yoga, pilates, bodywork, etc. Whatever, give it to me.

Whenever I think of my thankfully brief experience with an ED, I hear Ursula from the Little Mermaid singing the term "BODY LANGUAGE" and experience a grossed out reaction. There was something utterly terrifying about this large, scary, hyper-sexualized woman creature (octopus?), and the fact that she said "body" on top of that just threw me over the edge. If body was not a bad word before then, it was a bad word after that film to me.

Most people I knew growing up were a little funny about bodies and the word "body."

I remember an 80s notebook that I bought from somewhere like a Hello Kitty store. It had these sections where you divided your friends up into best/worst this and that. In retrospect, it was a stupid book, and it taught me to divide up whole beings into definable items. There was "Best Hair" and "Best Body" that really through me for a loop. I was probably 9 or 10 when I was filling this thing out, and it was probably meant for teens. I remember thinking "hair? best hair?" And I made a guess at someone who seemed to have nice hair in my grade (though I'm pretty sure I just asked someone and copied their answer because my thought was the girl who always threw hers up in a sloppy bun...I liked the sloppy bun look and thought she was really cool). "Body? best...body?" I didn't know what bodies were supposed to look like at 9 or 10, but I knew by then that the goal was to be thin, so I picked the thinnest girl I could think of. Again, I remember changing my answer to match someone else's, another teensy girl, who sadly ended up very, very sick with an eating disorder. I remember still not liking the word "body."

My dad, in many ways, was pretty awesome---he gave me "Our Bodies, Ourselves" at some young age. What a great thing to give a daughter! Thing is, a) it was a book and I don't finish books easily, no matter what the title. b) it had the word "bodies" on it---that seemed wrong for some reason and like it contained things I didn't want to know. So I put it under my bed and ignored it until long after I needed it.

I spent years thinking of the body as something scientific in school, an annoying detail in theater, something cerebral when listening to Tori Amos lyrics, and finally, something despised when it came to me. There were moments when I didn't feel that way, when I actually liked parts of my body, but I purposefully squashed those thoughts when I had them, and I'm not sure what told me to do that. I remember looking at myself naked in high school and thinking that if I stood on my toes and pranced around a certain way, I looked like a fairy and liked the way it looked. But I remember also very quickly shifting to pick apart the parts of me that seemed to stand out and look different from others' (like my fabulously huge booty that now everyone seems to love). I remember the process of hearing a compliment from people but then putting the compliment through a meat grinder in my mind, until it churned out only something self-hating. If someone complimented my small waist, I could only hear that my hips and butt and thighs were huge in comparison.

Anyway, that's not an uncommon story at all. And this next part, sadly, isn't either.

When I decided to become ill, and yes, it was a bit more of a decision than I'd like to admit, I had a vision for the cold, hardened, thin person I'd be within a year. I have absolutely no idea what I associated the word "body" with when I was sick...because my brain didn't work that way. It was on one track, and the track was lose weight. It didn't matter what my body looked like, really---I was both obsessed and also apathetic. Someone asked me once, before I looked really bad, how much weight I wanted to lose. He was asking about an end point. There was no end point. I didn't know how to answer the question. I didn't even know what a normal amount of weight to lose was. They suggested that maybe I only go for a few more (no idea even what he said), and I lied and said, "yeah, like that." I knew there was no end in sight. I didn't want to reach a goal---I just wanted to shrink, indefinitely. I never even set a goal weight since I left the country to Eastern Europe, whose scales and calories I didn't even understand. All I knew was to err on the side of caution and stay in constant motion. I walked in increasingly far and dangerous amounts at increasingly ridiculous areas of towns and times of night. I compulsively climbed stairs and shook my legs while sitting down, just to keep moving, keep productive, keep losing. But still, I have no idea what I thought of the word "body" at the time. No idea.

But I remember when I began to heal, and my mom comments that I had a lot of "body" talk. A big part of therapy for an eating disorder seems to be to treat the body as this object that is separate from you which needs to be healed. Or at least, I decided to make it separate---when I was healing, I had to imagine that I was pregnant because I needed a reason to take care of myself...without having to care for...me. So I imagined that I was carrying a baby, and that that's why I had to be caring---I knew it was strange, but it was working for me, so I went with it. Plus, it meant I could eat ice cream again. So I did. And I talked about things I needed to do for "my body." I was becoming desensitized to the term---at least it was neutral now and not the enemy.

Through dance and love and wonderful things, I ended up okay. When I think of the things that don't even ruffle my feathers anymore, I'm proud. I'm no longer triggered about weight, on most days. My paranoia about my body has now shifted to other things, but for the most part, I just don't care anymore. Probably to an unbalanced detriment. But for someone who has spent many years obsessing, this is freedom. I can talk bluntly and boldy about bodies and their limits and their miracles---not only generally but also about my own. Yoga training and teaching has brought me a peace of mind regarding my physical limitations and the interest in longterm health rather than shortterm benefits.

However, now I am in a new relationship with the word "body." Donna Mejia speaks so wisely about bodies, suggesting that we think of them as "wise counselors" and not something to be beaten into submission. I talked that talk for a long time, but I've found that my recent injury has shown me that I wasn't walking the walk. Continually, I am having to relearn how to actually listen to my body, and some days I fail and just push it too hard. Then I pay for it. Some days I treat it kindly and listen to my intuition, and I am rewarded. Sometimes body and I exchange mixed signals.

What I find most interesting about this process right now is an emotional component. My poor hip injury seems to have become a (maybe) final step in healing the wound that was there long before my eating disorder began. An eating disorder is a survival tool---a really, really dangerous and exhausting and terrible one that needs to be replaced with something happy. It doesn't take rocket science to notice that I've replaced my eating disorder with dance. Dance is healthier and makes me feel amazing, but compulsion is compulsion is compulsion (is compulsion.) Compulsions cover up an undefined emotional gunk. Something was there before I distracted myself with weight, and I've been slowly but steadily allowing myself to see and accept the gunk with age and health. This injury was threatening my gunk-resurfacing, as it was looking like I may not be able to dance (and I'm still not out of the water, I'm realizing this week). So what to do when you have nothing to shield you anymore?

Apparently, you emote.

Slowly but surely, there's this softening that I've had to force on myself with increasing regularity of late. And what happens when I soften my body, soften my heart, and soften my mind?

Sometimes it hurts---sometimes it's a good hurt that I know needs to happen. Sometimes it's really icky. And sometimes it's the best happy I've had in years and years and years...because it's not as distracted as the last decade of my life has been.

Will I stop dancing? I refuse. It's therapy as much as it is compulsion.

Will I take note of this moment? Yes, and try to remember it as important.

October ramble

2010-10-14T19:02:00.000-07:00

Apparently I did not finish blogging about Morocco---in general: fun, educational, totally worth it. Love studying with those who have been around for a long time.

Another homeless blog this fall is one I wrote time and time again in my mind about the idea of "edginess." There are other blogs about being treated unprofessionally and the various emotions that went with certain occasions. There are also homeless blogs in my mind in which I come out as a post-show depressant. There's a new churning blog in my mind responding to my hip injury with being informed by Asharah's rad blog.

But for now...

defining your edge.

I was asked to participate in an event which advertised itself as an exploration of the "edge," encouraging artists to push their edge. In retrospect, I found this process very interesting. For one, anything I had already done was out of realm for me, as it was to be my edge. I had a lot of fun with exploring options in my mind as to what pushing boundaries with my performance would mean. Would it mean wackiness beyond what I normally pull? Would it mean dressing atrociously to desexualize the movements? Would it become political or have a message that I felt to be edgy? Within that, wasn't I pretty sure that the folks at this gig would be fairly like-minded? So how edgy is that?

In the beginning, I planned to involve many in this journey to create something interesting. I had ideas which excited me. Time and relationships became an issue. As time drew closer, it became evident that I would be soloing this event. I plotted and prepared various improvisational ideas. The night before, I performed a very traditional set solo, so I could have been "edgy" in the fact that I was a bellydancer. It never occurred to me that this was edgy at all, since it is my norm. But more and more, the event felt like a costume party for which you're not sure whether to dress completely crazy or just wear a mustache. I've never been one to downplay a costume if I have the means to do it up big, but it seemed so much harder to work with when it's an artform. Furthermore, my artform is one that already has a variety of tainted portrayals out there, so I was battling the need to "represent" well and the pressure to not further contribute to historic ideas of bellydance.

Meanwhile, wasn't there something I wanted to say?

On this, I had ideas which changed from day to day, moment to moment. By the time I got to the event in the middle of the woods, and by the time I went onstage at midnight, unsure of whether I would even have music being able to be played...I wasn't wanting to say a whole lot. I chose to dance two solo versions of very comfortable dances. By midnight, that was about all I could do---familiar. I had brought along friends to help me try an experiment and keep me company, but by the end of the night, the experiment of dance collaboration turned into a big party. This was good---audience and performance meshed into one big orbiting hulahooping mess, and we smiled. It was a "happening" as it had promised to be.

However, for my dancing, I felt like I had cheated on the "edge"---but according to audience members, some viewed it as "edgy"---the fact was, I was bellydancing, which is edgy to some. I was doing tribal fusion style, which is edgy to others because it is not the traditional form of bellydance that many see. And I was doing my wacky biker dance juxtaposed against a soft basket dance, which some viewed as another level of edge since I ended up in a mustache. I personally can find no edge in any of the things which define my dancing or which I have already danced, so I am left wondering how an artist ends up really pushing themselves?

My biker dance was born out of the panicked need to out-funny myself when I found that a funny balkan piece had worked in 2008. I had to prepare something for the next month and felt the need to do what had worked...but more. So I went further. Afterwards, I was terrified. I couldn't go further down that path, or I would pigeon-hole myself as the increasingly insane balkan shimmy dancer. I'd be happy with that, as it's my favorite thing to do, but realistically that gives me about one more month of being entertaining, if I am lucky. And beyond entertainment, what am I saying?

So I started trying out new things and was told a variety of somewhat surprising things, such as that I looked tired or that my slower, sadder pieces were not "me" (if you only knew what a generally depressed person I have been in my life, you wouldn't say that!). I was also told that these pieces resonated with others. Or they became interpreted as sexual when they were actually about political or spiritual topics. I found that I was able to develop an idea more completely when it was for other student dancers, but that I am still stuck being unable to choreograph for my troupe.

The next horizon is approaching this fall, now that I know what I believe my solo dancing needs after becoming dreadfully bored with myself now that it has been two years of seriously dancing solo experiments (I started dancing solos in 2004 but had little room to try them out when I moved back to town until 2008).

And I'm left again with...

What am I saying? What is there to say?

I had a story that needed to be told in fall 2008. I had a different story that needed to be told in fall 2009. What is the story of fall 2010?

Morocco, Day 1

2010-09-18T14:53:00.000-07:00

Here I am again, in a workshop slightly outside of my comfort zone. I have read about Morocco for years, so I jumped at the chance to learn from her when I saw that Samora was bringing her to Atlanta. The only thing that concerned me was that Stacey was planning on delivering Kaia Fae around this time. Stacey's due date was Monday, and I thank Kaia Fae for deciding to wiggle into the world prior to the workshop! How convenient that she worked around my schedule ;) Fittingly, she was born while I was in a yoga workshop with Doug Keller, so I missed it, but she came so quickly that so did most people.

Being brought up primarily in the tribal fusion background, I feel a little like a stranger in a strange land, much like I did at Ansuya's certification. However, I love traveling into non-tribal territory and learning from masters of the artform who have a different take than the women I've seen in workshops for years.

Morocco, true to form, has very strong opinions and has no qualms expressing them bluntly, with her New York sass. I had no idea that she's actually 70 now. I knew she had been around for a long time, but she does not look or act like my idea of a 70 year old. But then again, neither does Vivian Dodds.

Interesting tidbits Morocco brought up include but are not limited to the following...(and please understand that these are piecemeal and interpreted by Lauryn, not verbatim):

*The first thing Morocco went off on was foot placement---to her, it's very important to have the feet less than hip distance apart. This is to make the dance more ladylike and draw the focus to the hips.

*Excessively touching your hair while dancing is supposed to indicate prostitution in some areas of the Middle East. She said that the “full service professionals” are not able to be open about their services, so they use dance to imply their extra income source.

*Dinah's famous “big momma” movement with the tail towards the audience came from her telling off a particularly rude audience.

*Raqs Sharqi is also called Raqs F------- (?) in one area, translating to mean dance of happiness. Morocco said that it was originally called simply “Raqs” until Westerners came in with their own dances which needed to be distinguished from the dance of the people. She used a term that sounded like the equivalent of “raqs French” to describe the Westerners and “Raqs Sharqi” for the locals. This was helpful, as I had heard somewhere that the “oriental” dance or eastern association was due to the dance itself referencing an imagined eastern “other” in the first place.

*The term “hootchie cootchie” apparently comes from a French term that means to shake one's butt! According to Morocco, this is more accurate than the term “bellydance” since the abs are really only utilized in camel and what I would call a flutter/belly pump. Everything else is hips, arms as framing and eye-direction only, and feet barely apart to showcase the hips. Morocco emphasized that camels (arabic as I currently call them) originally had no chest articulation and very little foot movement, just pelvis. The chest initiation, she explained, is due to mimicry and relating what you see to what you know. If you don't know you have a butt or hips that can dance, you see a wave movement and initiate with what you know, the chest. Or as she said “America puts t--s in everything.” She also mentioned that there are not many kicks in traditional Raqs Sharqi either. Part of the reasoning of this is that the audience is drawn to the fastest thing you are doing and/or the thing most close to them. So if you're kicking, it brings the foot too far front and distracts them. Interesting idea.

*Morocco emphasized not trying to be flashy or out-technique this folk dance. The movements should be more natural than we tend to make them, she said. Her heels come up in many movements that tribal tradition does not allow. Her arms are soft and simply a frame for the movement. She uses different terms than I know, such as “sit” for hip movements, “jiggle overlay” for layering shimmies, and specifically “infinities” instead of “figure 8s.” She stated emphatically that arabic 8s are not what we draw in the system we use, so she finds it racist to use “8” as a description. Great, I have another thing to be paranoid about ;)

Today we learned an upbeat choreography and also a slow one. Interestingly, the softness of the hips in this style is allowing my hip a nice break in comparison to the sharp beating it gets in fusion work. Gotta find new muscles to use or fix this thing asap.

MORE LATER!

New Cells

2010-08-31T21:22:00.000-07:00

Supposedly, if I have been dancing for seven years, the cells in my body are no longer the ones that I started with. Is it any wonder that I don't want to dance the style I did when I began?

I both want to be much more bizarre and less traditional in my bellydance and also deeply desire to study solid oriental dance.

Meanwhile, my hip is reminding me to rest. It feels like a ligament/tendon which is inflamed tonight. What to do about that? Why are these cells tiring out?

Further on Comfort Zones

2010-08-24T09:12:00.000-07:00

I always run into something interesting when I have tried something, felt okay about it, and then repeat in a similar fashion. Often, it seems like I have a dry run of an experiment and then the second time around feels much better. This time, I found my experiment number 2 lacking. Perhaps the comfort zone had been pushed and this new way of dancing was now in a comfort zone. Sometimes this is helpful, but this time it felt uninspired.

After dancing to a lyrical song in very simple comfy set of clothes at Amberetta's hafla, I decided to do another round at the Learn 2 Bellydance hafla. Several things about that choice:

1) different song, as I had been wanting to dance to Fast Horse for a long time
2) less specific purpose in mind---Amberetta dance was for Amberetta and brought up a lot of emotion. This content was emotional for me, but I was lacking the hook that would have brought immediacy and rawness to the dance like I felt a couple weeks prior.
3) I knew several audience members had seen Attempt 1 and several had not. I think, in a way, my choice to have Attempt 2 was to spread the word to the people who hadn't seen Attempt 1, saying in a way "so, I'm playing over here right now..."

For those who had seen Attempt 1, I didn't want to try to do the same dance, and yet, when I came to rehearsing/emotional preparation, I came up against the desire to choreograph into the piece the things that I had liked from the previous experience. But you can't do that. At least not in the game that I'm playing right now. If I'm going to improvise lyrically, which is I guess what I'll call what I'm playing with, I don't want it half-choreographed. I want it raw, organic, honest. But while my instructors that I'm drawing from in this art form (Ann Law and Amy Powell, but in different ways) have "hooks" that work to ground their work, I seem to gravitate towards choreographic hooks, as in "at the chorus, I know I will do x. everything else is freeform." I'm more interested in developing the emotional process work which is necessary to create another way to "hook" into the piece. I understand it when it is in Ann's class and not in the context of bellydance. I do NOT yet understand how to integrate the concept into the movement vocabulary I know. I tried in Attempt 1 by simply stating to myself "I am working with moving through space and with circular pathways." Of course, there were several emotional hooks to the dance that were brought up which aided those decisions and made the content easier to explore.

I did not feel ready to dive into the emotional content of Attempt 2. I was there in a cerebral way, but I didn't find the emotional hook. I think a lot of this has to do with burnout, to an extent. A couple days later I found myself entirely forgetting very important pieces of my schedule, which I had worried I would do all summer...apparently summer isn't entirely over.

I am very much looking forward to Donna Mejia's talk at Tribalcon this year, as it will be about the rest of one's life and how it impacts your dance. I am being shown full force that I absolutely have to take care of my body if I am to dance well. It seems simple, but all month I have been wrestling with injuries and the result of poor lifestyle. I'm ready for the fall's return to schedule, habit, and order. Summers are wonderful, but there's a reason they only last a season.

The good news about experimenting is that I am now quite used to showing up and attempting to detach from the result. There was less of an ego monster this time around. However, the bad news about that is that I felt less internal pressure to strive for better. Luckily, there's a lot of external pressure from watching beautiful dancers do amazing things that evening.

Going Outside Comfort Zone---Lessons Learned, Questions Asked

2010-08-09T12:30:00.000-07:00

This weekend, I stepped outside of my bellydance comfort zone to dance a dance for a friend who is leaving (the enigmatic Amberetta!). Also, recently I performed a trapeze piece that was infused with some bellydance movements. Here are some thoughts:

1) "To Three or Not to Three, That is The Question"
I had a specific song that I wanted to use for the Amberetta dance, and since it was only a hafla, I didn't bother cutting the music to my normal 3 minute rule. I almost brought in a veil to help distract the audience from my dancing beyond 3 minutes, but I woke up that morning and thought "I would do this dance without makeup, if only I didn't have to do a Lady Gaga piece after it...so why am I trying to hide behind a veil/prop?" I have a superstition/idea that I can't hold an audience's attention for more than three minutes with solo improvisation, sans props. If there are props involved, I feel okay trying for a longer song. But in my classes with Ann Law, we've talked a lot about the difference between art and entertainment, and I decided that perhaps that was me erring on the side of entertainment rather than art. My thoughts on this remain divided for my personal choice dances. On one hand, I feel like I probably was losing on the Entertainment end of dance. On the other hand, I felt an incredible surge of energy and a release into the moment sometime after three minutes. It was as if it took those three minutes to get out of my head and into the dance moment and just let go (it helped that the climax in the music happened after three minutes). While I'm scared/intrigued to see what that looked like on film, it was a great experience to have. Also, I'm glad I didn't throw in a veil just because I was spooked. I did that with a sword in the Katrina dance in March and knew full well that it was a cop-out, but I had found out that my daddy was coming to the first professional show he had ever seen me dance in, and I freaked and needed a prop crutch.

2) Still Haven't Slaughtered the Validation Monster
I used to be confused when my dance teacher seemed to always feel so insecure after a solo performance and seem to need verbal affirmations of how we liked it. I thought it was obvious that she rocked it and wouldn't care for my lowly student opinion. I'm highly aware right now of how sensitive the time after a performance is. I recently had a performance where all I heard (read: not all that was said but all that I heard) were negative comments. Having recently experienced that, I tried to approach the hafla as something where I wouldn't expect/crave feedback since the dance was going to be what it was going to be and wasn't really meant for anyone besides my friend, anyway. Of course, even with that in my mind, the Validation Monster was craving feedback. A wise dancer (again, Ann) has suggested to me that if one is to have real dialogue about their reactions to your piece (or if you are to give real and constructive criticism of a piece), that you should set a time to do so a day or two after the performance. Firstly, it needs to be a more involved discussion than we often give time for, both for positive and negative feedback. Secondly, a performer's ego is too sensitive directly after a performance to hear in-depth and honest reactions. She suggested that it is unfair to ask for honest opinions when you're still on your adrenaline buzz (this came in a discussion about how to get real feedback from my husband). After the last couple of performances I have done, I think I agree. Meanwhile, I'd like to prepare myself to hone in on the skill of meditation post-performance. Allowing the thoughts and feelings and the voice of the validation monster to be noticed but not dwelled upon or judged as you transition into non-performance mode. As Moria Chappell/Tori Amos suggests, allow yourself to be a vessel for the performance but then allow your ego to step away from reactions afterwards. It's not about you/me.

3) Warm Up Appropriately.
I have seriously strained my abdominal muscles by dancing in a hot room in a form that I apparently don't know how to warm up for. And apparently I got a little carried away. It's Day 3 now, and I am having to sit out of a dance class to take time to heal my rectus abdominis. Damn.

4) Intention Though You Might Have, Movement is Sexy
My trapeze piece was about the gulf oil spill and spiritual tarnish. Apparently it came across as a sexy dance, and I really didn't move my hips or chest very much. Interesting knowledge for the tool box. Also, someone probably thought I was in angry love with Amberetta from the dance I did. I knew that going in and am amused by the idea.

5) Leaving Dance To Interpretation Experiment
In the last six months I have chosen three different things in terms of notating solos which are specifically about a certain narrative: 1) Dedicated dance to a certain party which has inspired dance but didn't go into the monologue about what it was about (Katrina dance) 2) Used vague wording to notate how the dance was meant to be read "exploring the concepts of weight and freedom" for trapeze dance but not mention the psychospiritual/political implications 3) Didn't specify how to be announced but then walking up to dance, heard the dedication be stated moments before the dance. All of these were done with a microphone by someone else. I think that I've decided that I prefer to leave any notation of meaning in the written form on a program because it's a strange sensation to hear someone else's voice stating what your intention is to a dance right before you do it. Nice reminder, nice to know we're all on the same page, but me being me, I can't help but want to turn around and give a monologue about how that's not exactly the whole story. Instead, I turn around and start dancing, not sure what the understanding is between me and audience. So I think from now on, when programs are available, I'll stick to the program as my source of any kind of notation and just ask that part not to be read before I dance. In terms of how much information to give about your intention, I think for right now, I'm on a "case by case" basis. I didn't specify how to be announced this weekend because my song had lyrics, and I thought it would be obvious enough, but then when the cat was out of the bag before I started dancing, that did lend me a certain ability to know that the audience was in on the conversation and allowed me to go to places in a different way than if that had been more vague. As for the trapeze piece, perhaps I SHOULD have gone more specific, so the audience didn't read the dance as a sexy dance. As for Katrina dance, I'm pretty sure the audience just thought I was nuts for that one, but those who saw the group choreography later got it.

Ideas and suggestions welcome!

Year of Movement

2010-08-03T18:07:00.000-07:00

So most of my blogs are pretty self-indulgent...this one is no exception. I'm trying to keep track of my life as a small business owner!

Mid-August last year, I left my day job. The job was going to be ending in September anyway, and I wanted to study dance at Chattanooga State if I was losing my job anyway.

The year has been an adventure and a roller coaster, trying to kick off my business, the Asala Center. I have been teaching bellydance at Zanzibar Studio, mostly just my Wednesday classes with some additional choreography classes thrown in at times. I continued teaching my Signal Centers class for the staff there, making a grave error at first of selling drop-in cards with very lengthy expiration dates. Since then, we have picked up a nice monthly agreement at the location.

I have been teaching way more yoga than I expected, starting off at Moon Haven Studio and Northshore Yoga. Northshore didn't last long, as I was just subbing for a Beginner's class for several weeks until Karen could pick it back up. I also offered a dance class there in the winter with Lori Bilbrey, but that didn't pan out very well. At Moon Haven, the only time I could make it to the studio wasn't a time where we had much response, so I dropped that. I continued to Madia's Studio, where I taught Yin Yoga, Flow Yoga, and Yin Flow Yoga for several months until Madia's Studio closed in February. In December I began teaching a Friday Community Class at Clearspring Yoga, which I adore. I attempted to teach morning yoga at Zanzibar Studio and had a low turn-out so let it go. I began teaching at Yoga East when it opened, starting with morning classes and my first Power Yoga class. I later gave Amberetta the Power class and took on Yin, Sunday beginner's, and Chair Yoga at Yoga East. I started teaching Chair Yoga at the Hamilton County Health Department, signing on for one six-week session which turned into two. Now in August I'm picking up a Saturday class in North Chattanooga.

Meanwhile, thanks to Lacy's opportunity to offer workshops, I have been trying on workshops: Intro to Tribal Improv, Yoga for Bellydancers, Yin Yoga/Shimmy Clinic, Yimmyprov, Yin/Yang Movement Gaga Style, Bloomin Onions: Balls and Layers, and The Andrea Perkins Legacy. I taught workshops at Baylor School, Yoga East, Montessori School, and Mercer University in Macon, GA. I was hired to teach movement for kids at the Grace Arts Camp at Grace Episcopal Church. I volunteered kid's yoga at the Kids in the Kitchen event for Thrasher and learned a lot from the kids!

In dance education, in the fall I took Modern and Dance Composition from Ann Law and Aerial Dance and Dance Performance from Amy Powell (recently from Canopy in Athens, GA). Aerial was one of the hardest things I have tried, both physically and emotionally. Ann's classes expanded my creative process and the way I think about movement and left me hungry for more. The next semester I added Monica Coates (now Ellison) to my teachers, learning Modern technique from her. Ann continued with her work exploring movement and the creative process, and Amy continued to challenge me in Aerial Dance.

At the TAD conference this year at Austin Peay, I took classes in capoeira, ballet, modern, West African, jazz, yoga, and Alexander Technique. Completely kicked my butt and deflated my ego! David Appel came to guest teach our Chatt State dance classes, which was fun and different.

I began taking Pilates from Lauren Worley Knauth in December 2009 and noticed amazing new strength after my body went through a learning curve with the process. I started taking Jazz/Hip Hop with Lindsay Fussell in February and continued through the May session. This summer I have been taking Lyrical Jazz/Hip Hop from Cornelius Heard and Adult Ballet from Amanda Walker Gray. All teachers have been amazing! I was crazy/brave enough to take the Margi Cole intensive workshop in June this year and was able to teach the yoga warm up every day.

In bellydance education, I learned in an intensive weekend with Rachel Brice and from Donna Mejia again at the Pedagogy institute and received my Ansuya certification in "Cabaribalusion." At TribalCon, I learned from Donna Mejia, Ariellah, Asharah, Urban Tribal (including dear friend Juli!), Devyani, and Jennifer Speiden. I was blessed to take further workshops from Moria Chappell, Zoe Jakes, and Zafira Dance Company again this year. At Spirit of the Tribes, I learned from John Compton, Artemis Mourat, Dalia Carrella, Anasma, Tjarda, Unmata, Ariellah, Veena and Neena, Shakra, Nanda Najla, Arish Lam, Yuki and Musumi, Kilma, Yasmeena, Aradia, and Aepril Schaile. In the summer I took from Natalie Brown and Asharah. I also got to take Poi from my dear friend Amberetta!

Spirit of the Tribes and other workshops 2010

2010-06-06T20:22:00.000-07:00

I have done a terrible job at documenting my teachers in 2010. Here I will try.

Well, I mentioned the Ansuya Cabaribalusion Certification in January, hosted by Atlanta Fusion Bellydance. See blog before this for that.

Kaoverri Weber led my mother and me through a fascinating chakra yoga workshop at Clearspring Yoga in February.

I was blessed to attend TribalCon this year and learn from the following teachers: Heather Stants and Juli Downum from Urban Tribal, Donna Mejia, Megha Gavin of Devyani, Ariellah, Asharah, and Jennifer Speiden.

Amberetta treated Chattanooga to Moria Chappell, one of my favorite teachers and a bellydance superstar, in March. Directly after Moria, I woke up and drove to Knoxville to take from Zoe Jakes, which was wonderful as always.

I love learning from Zafira Dance Company and was happy to take from Maria and Olivia again in April, hosted again by Ziah and Awalim, the sponsors of Tribalcon. Their exercises helped stimulate some creative juices in terms of making more organic choreographies, which is something I crave.

Meanwhile, I was learning from the master of organic, Ann Law, at Chattanooga State. I also took Modern from Monica Coates and Aerial Dance from Amy Powell through Chattanooga State. I began studying Jazz/Hip Hop with Lindsay Fussell at the Chattanooga Theatre Centre.

After my semester ended, I headed down to Fort Lauderdale for Spirit of the Tribes, where I learned from the following teachers:

Ariellah again
Unmata again
Anasma
Tjarda from Uzume (The Netherlands)
Shakra
Yasmeen Mimi
Aradia from Serpentine
Veena and Neena, the Bellytwins (India)
Nanda Najla (Brazil)
Artemis Mourat
John Compton
Kilma
Dalia Carella
Arishlam (Puerto Rico)
Yumi and Masami (Japan)
and
Aepril Schaile

I returned from Spirit and immediately jumped into a three day intensive with Modern Dance expert Margi Cole. I am a baby beginner in Modern Dance and was reminded of that repeatedly this week! But I loved Margi's teaching and learned so much from it. I hope I can beef up my ballet background in time for her to come back!

I'll try to document from this asap!

Ansuya Day 3 and Dance Classes

2010-01-22T08:20:00.000-08:00

Just some notes for future use:

In Day 3 of Ansuya Cabaribalusion Certification, we explored props.
Zills, Cane, Sword, Fan, and Veil. We also talked about candle usage at the end.
Most notable moments of intrigue to me:
In Ansuya's zill style, she does not differentiate between Dums and Teks---all sounds are made with what my training would call a cross between a Tek/Ka and a Ring. Very interesting. She also used a very different pattern than the Shiftatelli I normally hear. I await my email to have that written down so I can look at it better. We played Beledi, Ayoub, Bolero, and Shiftatelli (as well as singles, which was just alternating Tek and Ka or Right and Left).
She had us all improvise zills to a song, which I assumed would be a disaster but was actually a lot of fun.

My cane was too light and therefore really hard to balance compared to the massive sword I am used to. We did some cute combinations that I wrote down, and I enjoyed playing with a prop I don't normally use.

Our sword work was not too different from what I have learned in the past, but I enjoyed seeing Ansuya's style---there was more one-handed prop usage, which was pleasant to see.

My fan was a veil fan because I forgot my fan, and I got tangled up in that thing so much. But the combos were fun and different from the style of Onca, who has been the person from whom I have learned fan work several times. It was nice to see a different style and usage. We combined some of our Spanish combos with fan work.

In veil work, we opted to learn how to remove a standard cabaret veil wrap while having zills on fingers. We also played zills while doing veil work, which was a fun challenge. There was a veil trick that she taught that I absolutely could not get and want to work on. It's beautiful, but I don't know the name. I think that for Ansuya's style, a heavier veil would be preferred, but I, of course, went with what I knew, a good old silk standard.

For candle work, Ansuya gave some safety precautions, some ideas about character in a candle dance (now that more intense firework is more common, candles have a different feel), and showed some possible moves.

In general, it was a very fun time and exposed me to new ideas and styles.

Dance classes this week have begun---we have kept using the mat in the beginning of Ann's class. On Tuesday, I was tremendously distracted by the chatter and junk rolling around in my brain (this week has been worse than most). We did some mirror work and trio mirror work, which ended up being pretty funny. On Wednesday, we waited to see if Modern and Intro would pick up class members to see if the classes even make. In Aerial, we warmed up, watched aerial videos, and started learning to base and fly off each other's bodies. I was more experimental than Day 1 of last semester, BUT I am still a Taurus and prefer to be really grounded while putting my body weight on people and vice versa. On Thursday, we worked with body awareness/alignment and moving around as slowly as possible to let our bodies tell us exactly how they needed to move. I'm loving our warm ups with Pilates movements, but this was a nice change. We ended by looking at Elizabeth Streb and Eiko and Koma to discuss differences in aesthetics and styles.

Ansuya Day 2 and Show

2010-01-16T20:43:00.000-08:00

Today in Ansuya land, we focused on the "Fusion" part of "Cabaribalusion."

For the most part, we learned combos and talked about the general feel of each type of fusion. I actually preferred the first day's exercises, perhaps because it was not as familiar. Fusion I get a fair amount of in my day to day life, and definitely enough "tribal." I am beginning to really dislike "tribal" and "tribal fusion" as descriptors for what I do, however. With that in mind, today's discussions were fascinating.

"Tribal" was a part of that fusion, but it was added in as a series of combos like those we learned in Indian, Spanish, African, and "Gypsy." Fitting under the BROAD category of "tribal fusion," I found it very interesting to hear a room mostly full of cabaret dancers (I think) talking about their impressions of tribal.

Ansuya was playing darker electronic music and using a lot of sharp, robotic flourishes on her movements, along with strong and lifted elbows. She gave a bit of a disclaimer, saying that she encouraged people to allow the darkness they accessed to be one of empowerment rather than violence. (If I had brakes in my head, you would have heard them screech with surprise). I very rarely consider the implication of violence in dance. Occasionally when a weapon is involved, I am conscious of that subtext. But this idea generally doesn't enter in my mind unless the show is super-gothed out, super-duper-dark, or covered in blood (which I have seen advertised more than once but I don't call that indicative of "tribal" stylings!). Ansuya talked several times this weekend about the laws of attraction and warned us against too much darkness or darkness coming from a place which does not empower.

The form of tribal was generally described as rigid, robotic, strong. I had a moment of thinking, "Jeez, this is going to be like when I came back from Bard and realized that I had been really doing more cabaret than tribal but calling it tribal. I'm going to have an identity crisis." Not that it particularly matters, except for communication. I remember telling Amberetta that I was pretty sure someone at a workshop was convinced that I was a cabaret dancer after having seen me perform a solo and I was totally confused. She pointed out that it was my happy dance and that many people associate all things happy with cabaret and all things dark with tribal. I find this so bizarre, personally. But I've always had a mix of influences, and neither Bard Bellydance Collective nor Zanzibar Studio have fit totally in one box.

Interestingly, I had the worst time following the "tribal" combos. I could barely move my body. It was kind of embarrassing since I'm sure the few people who had talked to me would assume that those would feel natural to me. But the Spanish, African, Gypsy and MOST of the Indian were quite easy for me to get a grasp on. The Indian footwork was very difficult for me, and I don't think I ever did this one section correctly.

I also found it interesting to see what the "tribal" and "fusion" representation was in the show. Awalim performed very fabulously (new respect for their mad zillin), as did Jahara Phoenix (loved seeing a sword dance to Caravan, and they zilled as well while doing ATS improv...with swords on their heads...like, whoa.) There was a very traditional pot dance from Zivah Saphirah (sp?) which was cute to watch (though I wouldn't call it tribal--this was folkloric). Atlanta Fusion Belly Dance and Rafi'ah performed several fusion pieces on the more experimental side, and I'd really like to know their background, because it was different from what I've seen at other shows. There was a different quality that I couldn't put my finger on. I'm intrigued and want to know more about them. They did a fan veil dance to a cover of Billie Jean, a marionette piece, a tribal-ly trio, and a private eye themed piece.

Ansuya performed her tribal combos to a dark song, and I enjoyed seeing her interpretation of the movements, very authentic and present (unlike my attempt to do them). But my favorite piece of hers was her opening, which includes enthusiastic zilling with some wicked fast turns, and gulp, yes...Sting's Desert Rose. I have a fondness for this song since I performed my first wedding solo to it, upon request of the bride. I was pleased to see that Ansuya also had decided it needed to be a veil piece, and we did some similar interpretations at certain moments. HOWEVER, I had no awesome barrel turns and tons of other things that I wish I had been able to whip out at the Read House and totally school everyone in sight. Oh well, maybe the next time I dance to Desert Rose ;)

After having heard Ansuya talk about her approach to dance and expression, I enjoyed watching her completely embrace the moment and her passion on stage while improvising. There were several moments where her eyes only could have knocked me over. That was the theme of the evening for me---watching dramatic eye moments. There were some simple movements that just got you in the gut with the right eyes. And I had the completely unsettling, exciting experience of feeling like she was starting right.at.me. for the last 30 seconds of her last dance. It was the type of contact that makes a person like me squirm wondering if they can read my mind but squeal because I'm getting so much awesome energy. Of course, it could have been our whole section who felt like that, but I certainly felt like at the workshop the next day I would be awkward like after a first date with someone that you really, really like and who makes you nervous. It was exhilarating to be in that audience place and experience the power that that can have. I remember feeling like that was happening with Zoe Jakes at Yard Dogs Road Show and being totally freaked out that I could actually make eye contact with her. In all my years of following Tori Amos at concerts, my eye sight was going down the drain, and I had no idea why the first row was that much better than a few rows back...besides a matter of pride and less distraction...because I couldn't tell that you could really look into a person's eyes on the front row in a big concert hall (and no, I wasn't on the front row at this gala show).

I've written until the midnight hour yet again and need to sleep. Perhaps I'll try to edit this some day.

Ansuya Bliss

2010-01-15T21:01:00.000-08:00

Where do I begin?

Last year I saw Ansuya was teaching a Cabaret certification nearby, and that's when I first realized my secret desire to explore my inner sparklies more.

I talked myself out of it because I was afraid of being the only gal with tribal-leanings and was scared of the learning curve. I was also rather intimidated by Ansuya. She's strikingly beautiful, a Bellydance Superstar, and highly emotive in her dancing. That combined with costuming that isn't what I normally wear made me think "unfamiliar...scary...intimidated..." So I didn't sign up. That has sense bothered me.

So the moment I saw the post card on the wall of Several Dancer's Core when I was taking from Donna Mejia, I knew in my heart that I could not NOT go. When I read that she was offering a certification in "Cabaribalusion," I didn't know what it meant but knew that I wouldn't be the only one who took that invitation to "cross over." I pretended for some time that I would be responsible and lay off the workshopping since I am in less than ideal financial states right now. When I saw there was an early bird deadline approaching, I let all common sense and financial worries go out the window and signed up. I have been forgetting about it on a regular basis since then. It's not something I've done several times like TribalCon, and I've been unsure of what to expect.

I finally drove up to the Buckhead Marriot and wasn't sure if I was in the right place. I did a scan for Melodias and didn't find them but DID find bright blue pantaloons/harem pants. Later I would find that my parking lot buddy was "Aya of Istanbul." Very lovely woman.

I walked in to the building looking for more pants, and a girl in a beautiful earth-toned ghawazee coat said without pause, "So do you know where you're going?" (Scanning to see if I was in janglies, and I wasn't...is it my knit hat? The weirdly long and furry jacket? Do I glow green?) "No...it says Conference Center..." We proceeded to find our way to the room, passing familiar vendor temptress displays, and I felt more at home.

I got registered and set down my mass of bags, and I changed in the bathroom from the wet pants that I had made in spilling my water everywhere about 30 minutes outside of Atlanta. Walking back, I passed Lacy from Beledi Boutique (www.belediboutique.com) ---sigh, ahh, a familiar face! How reassuring.

I started stretching on the ground and trying to remember some notes from my first class of the semester with Ann Law (blog on its way). I noticed that everyone was standing in place or securing their spots with hip scarves and bottles, so I scooted into a place, hoping I wasn't annoying anyone. I suddenly became very aware that EVERYONE in the room at that time had on a jingly hip scarf. I was wearing Rose Hips. And no one was stretching on the ground. I wondered if these people were all cabaret girls that thought I was weird for showing up and rolling around on the ground with my notebook. What if that isn't the thing you do at "their" workshops? Why was I there? What was I doing? They are so going to know I'm a spy. I felt like the weirdo at the junior high dance for a minute.

Eventually, a huge amount of women were in a fairly small conference room, and I started to panic. Oh jeez it's going to be a mess, and I'm going to bump into people and be falling everywhere. The temperature got hot and then cold a few times throughout the night, beginning then.

I started seeing a little more diversity in the hip scarfage and relaxed a little. I saw some tattoos and unnatural hair color and loosened up. I overheard someone asking about what style Ansuya performed and someone teasing them that they would have to learn cabaret tonight, so I knew I wasn't the only one. As I neurotically judged my peers and myself against them, I noticed that I was stretching VERY deeply for me. I surprised myself and remembered that I had taught yoga at 7:45 and yin yoga at 12. I figured it was probably the yin but was excited. I had a moment of seriously wondering if I was suddenly pregnant and maybe that's why I was flexible. Nope.

Ansuya stepped on stage with some very, very kind blue-shirted people, and they immediately began orienting us to the weekend. Apparently I had not received my welcome baggie, which may have added to my alien feeling (I now happily possess a welcome baggie which included not only a granola bar and helpful information but a WATER BOTTLE, which I thought was clever). I realized Ansuya's pants and noted that, apparently, I had seen her earlier, but I guess she had not been in her "on" mode, because I had barely noticed her. I am fascinated by that process in people. I remember my first uber-star of bellydance experience, when I walked in to Several Dancers' Core and saw Zoe Jakes gulping down a burrito/wrap. I had to do a double take because she looked so human and real and...hungry. I had awkwardly smiled as if to say, "Hi...I know who you are but aren't sure if I'm supposed to see you, and you have no idea who I am. How weird is that? I think you're awesome but don't want to bug you." She smiled like, "Hey there, I am eating a burrito."

Ansuya was immediately gushing with compliments to our hosts (Atlanta Fusion Belly Dance). She was incredibly friendly and gave a shout out to someone she recognized in a very excited, human way. I felt better.

I normally don't pay any attention to workshop names. I seek out teachers and want everything they can offer, whether I care about it or not. It has always been my way of workshopping. So I really had no idea what was in store, and even though I knew many props were needed for the weekend, I only bothered to bring my zils. It just seemed like a lot of effort, and I thought, "Really? Can you REALLY go through veil, zils, fan, candle, cane, and sword in one day? You must be saying I should PICK one to bring and we'll work on general prop use." Well, I was wrong about that and am now kicking myself.

Did I mention that after spending all day focusing on yoga and packing and driving, this thing BEGAN at 7pm and didn't get out until 10pm? Which, for a traveler, was actually GREAT. Leaving in the afternoon allowed me to have a full day and only need one sub for my scheduled 4 yoga classes today.

We started with a warm up that involved some very dancerly squats, making me think, oh jeez---it's not yoga. I am not prepared to warm up without yoga! All these people have shoes and I don't, and I'm sliding everywhere! Well, the stretches turned into very yummy side stretches that looked simply gooey on Ansuya. Then, finally, I got my yoga. I realized that I must have progressed in yoga this year since all the things that were making everyone groan were not a problem for me.

THEN. All of a sudden, she had us get in a straddle for a wide leg forward fold, which I loathe. I loathe it because I can't get anywhere with it. Well for some reason, I was incredibly loose for me...and I got pretty far with a flat back. And then she told us to round out. I had my elbows on the ground! This never happens! I was ecstatic. Then she had us fold over one leg at a time, and I was touching my leg easily with my belly. What planet am I on? And after that, she said, "you'll notice you can go further now when we fold straight forward again." She was right! I got my head on the ground! It was with a rounded back, but STILL, this is big news for me.

I enjoyed her take on standing forward folds---she had us really hang out with our knees bent, "for our upper hamstrings," and then we hung out with the knees straight. It did feel nicely different, and I noticed that my hands were easily able to walk under my feet, which is always a giant problem for me. It was so fun! I remembered that I'm more limber the later in the night it is, but this was still quite different and exciting. My ego needs more night yoga. New thought: perhaps it's because I spent so much time sitting in "Ann Law position" during her class---she uses her core and sits with her legs stretched out in a V. I decided to try it for as long as I could stand it instead of folding my legs up, which is my habit.

So then we drilled some awesome isolations. We had several directions (including corners) for our isolations in the chest and hips. We locked one direction and both directions and then layered shimmies under them. It got our blood pumping and our brain working to remember the order. We ended with some chooch shimmies under the hip drill. She had us layer a "freeze," but I had to just make a small shimmy since my freeze is somewhat broken.

There was tons of wonderful stuff, but it's getting late. We improvised with a fast song, which was fun for me but hard to keep focused with so many people in the room and a superstar watching us (I was in the front row by then). She talked to us in a circle several times, which was great.

My absolute favorite part was the slow section. I was dreading it, as I normally dislike going to the places that slow music brings up in front of people.

However, Ansuya talked to us about concepts that she uses to improvise to slow music, and then she demonstrated. I was struck to the bone watching her dance. Knowing that this emotion and expression was being created right then and there and being given to us only, I was captivated. The music was incredible, and she led us through a very internal, personal dance. When she stopped, you could immediately tell she was done because the spell was broken. I truly had goosebumps and a gut reaction.

Then she told us to do it. I was terrified. I was in the front again, and I just knew I couldn't go there like she did.

However, something about the music and about her advice and instructions completely freed me. And I danced my little soul out, there on the Buckhead Hotel carpet in a room full of writhing bejingled women.

Now, Rachel Brice had a very similar workshop theme when I took from her. And I absolutely ADORED her concepts, attitude, and approach to teaching. However, when we improvised in her class, I did not have this kind of transcendent experience. Perhaps it is because she's been an idol for so long that my nerves were hindering me. Perhaps it is because I was there with several dance peers whom I know and whose talent/opinion I admire. Perhaps it is because that was the first time (aside from Mira, who created a very safe place) that I had been asked to improvise in a workshop, and this time it was not as jarring.

For whatever reason, this particular dance that I did tonight moved something around in me in a way that I have very rarely experienced, and even more rarely experienced in front of people. It was personal, but it was not analyzed. It was not my brain going through therapy thoughts and moving alongside it. It was purely reacting to the music as honestly as I could. There were moments I stepped out of the dance and forced a movement here or there, but it was overall MUCH less brain-driven than any other exercise like that that I have done. It was the closest that I have come in practice to going where I go in performance, but this was an emotion I haven't been able to express in performance. Perhaps it was because the room really felt like strangers, and that's how I feel on stage, that they all blur out into something else. I don't know, but I liked it and wish I could recreate it. Hence, needing to blog for an hour.

Thanks, Ansuya, for a delicious evening. I can't wait to see what the rest is like, but the workshop has already paid for itself after that one experience.

Other Dance-Relevant Photos (Work in Progress)

2010-01-08T21:47:00.000-08:00

Lauryn with Charles/Pseudolus

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum Rehearsals

September 2006

Future Mirabai girls and Amberetta

Kassar workshop in Huntsville, AL

November 2006

Lauryn (A "rotten pumpkin") came to watch Juli and Lacy dance with Andrea the puppetmaster
Halloween Party at Parkway Billiards
October 2007

Karen and Lauryn
Devidasa show
December 2007

Catie and Lauryn
Devidasi Show
December 2007

Rehearsals for Othello Project
December 2007

Scott Sullivan and Lauryn backstage before Othello
January 2008

Vagina Monologues 2008

Mirabai Before Mirabai
Vagina Monologues 2008

Jared's big promotion into Dandasha as "Baxter" in Tramps...with "Sully"
April 2008

My first wedding performance (aside from my own!)
Reed House
June 2008

"Caravan" as a solo
Vagina Monologues at The Encore Theatre
Summer 2008

My "neighbor" Juli and Andrea plinkin around one evening before she moved
Summer 2008

Juli's Goodbye Hafla
Summer 2008

Lauryn's first solo in front of bellydancers (outside of Bard)
Southern Mirage 2008, Guest Artist Moria Chappel
October 4, 2008

Sheepishly sharing the stage with many beautiful dancers and Moria
October 4, 2008

Miranda, Moria Chappel, and Lauryn
Southern Mirage in Augusta, GA
October 4, 2008
(This was the 3rd set of workshops I did with her in just three months! She's that good.)

What would eventually become Mirabai Bellydance and sweet Leslie, performing under Dandasha at the time. We miss you, Leslie!
Mezmer Society Show
October 11, 2008

Ashley and Lauryn backstage
Mezmer Society show
October 2009

Mattie and Lauryn having a silly hat party for Juli's homecoming dinner at Lauryn's house
October 2008

Mirabai Bellydance's first performance, after asking Andrea if we could use this name to perform somewhere when she had not been involved (she wasn't doing much with Dandasha at the time, anticipating a move)
Normalpalooza
October 25, 2008

Miranda and Stacey backstage with Lesha Patterson
Raquy and the Cavemen 2008

Post-show decompression with Jared, Miranda, and Stacey
Raquy and the Cavemen 2008

Mirabai Bellydance with Amberetta
Ogya/Devidasa Show
December 2008
Photo by Bob Edens

Mirabai Bellydance
Chattacon
January 2009
Photo by Bob Edens

Raqs Chattanooga Poster
June 2009

Mirabai Bellydance at Cirque Nouveau
September 2009

Amberetta and Lauryn at hafla
September 2009

Lauryn and Rachel Brice at Mecca Studio

October 24, 2009

Lauryn, Donna Mejia, and Amberetta

Donna Mejia's Pedagogy intensive in Atlanta

November 8, 2009

Lauryn's last session of Intro to Bellydance at Dalton State College
November 9, 2009

Raquy Show Poster 2009

Poster for The First Annual Fringe Benefit 2009

2009 Year of Dance Retrospective in Photos

2010-01-08T17:45:00.000-08:00

A Year of Mirabai Bellydance Performances and Lauryn's Other Dance Performances

"Blood, Oil, Gold"

Chattacon

January 24, 2009

Photo by Bob Edens

"Ganga Dev Sword Dance" Duet

Chattacon

January 24, 2009

Photos by Bob Edens

"Born to be Wild" solo

Chattacon

January 24, 2009

Photo by Bob Edens

Solo for "Meera"

Vagina Monologues

February 2009

Photo by Bob Edens

"Meera"

Vagina Monologues

February 2009

Photo by Bob Edens

"Wandering the Streets" Happy Solo

Vagina Monologues

February 2009

Photo by Bob Edens

"Ganga Dev Sword Dance" Duet

Vagina Monologues

February 2009

Photos by Bob Edens

"Woman Am I"

Vagina Monologues

February 2009

Photo by Bob Edens

Not pictured:

First Modern Dance Performance: "Cradle Lullabye" and "Cradle Lullabye for 2009"

Orange Grove Dancers Concert

February 2009

Student Skirt Dance and Improvisation

Girls Night Out

March 2009

"Wandering the Streets" Happy Solo, Performed to these amazing dancers only

Mira Betz Performance Intensive

April 16 and 20, 2009 (My 27th Birthday)

Not pictured:

"Cradle Lullabye for 2009," "Reach Face," South African Folk Dance, and "Dustball"

Chattanooga State Dance Program Spring Semester Student Recital

May 2009

"Snow Cherries from France" Solo Anniversary Dance

Amberetta's Hafla

May 8, 2009

Not pictured:

Lauryn's Improvised Solo

Red Bank Jubilee

May 9, 2009

"Dustball"

Ann Law's Passion Flower Performance 2009

May 9, 2009

"Ganga Dev Sword" Solo

(Not pictured: Basket Dance Duet, Wandering the Streets Happy Solo, Pentaphobe Duet)

Festival of Nations at Dalton High School

May 15, 2009

Photo by Dalton Daily Citizen

"Jellydancers" Improv with Mattie Waters, Scott Sullivan, and Joe Ridolfo

Hunter Museum and Tennessee Aquarium

May 16, 2009

Photo by Scott Sullivan's genius kid

"Born to Be Wild" Solo

Southern Oasis 2009 with Guest Artist Unmata

June 6, 2009

Stacey's Solo

Amberetta's Raqs Chattanooga

June 27, 2009

Photo by Bob Edens

Mirabai's "Ganga Dev Sword Dance"

Amberetta's Raqs Chattanooga at Barking Legs

June 27, 2009

Photo by Bob Edens

"Born to Be Wild" solo

Amberetta's Raqs Chattanooga

June 27, 2009

Photo by Bob Edens

"Mashala Mashala" Cane Dance

Amberetta's Hafla at Aspire Studios

July 25, 2009

"Mashala Mashala" Cane Dance

Origins Hafla at Wendellyn's house

August 1, 2009

"Beach Blanket Shimmy"

Andrea's Aloha Hafla

August 22, 2009

"Balkan Beat Box" Student Dance

Andrea's Aloha Hafla

August 22, 2009

"Mission" Andrea's Last Student Choreography

Andrea's Aloha Hafla

August 22, 2009

"Bulgarian Chicks" Skirt Dance

YPAC's Cirque Nouveau

September 19, 2009

Photo by Lesha Patterson

Miranda and Stacey Improvise

(Not pictured: Born to Be Wild Solo, Ganga Dev Sword Dance. Not danced: our entire second set!)

YPAC's Cirque Nouveau

September 19, 2009

Photo by Lesha Patterson

Not pictured:

70th Birthday "Crone Party"

September 26, 2009

"Bulgarian Chicks" Skirt Dance with Dandasha Dance Company

Culturefest

September 27, 2009

Mirabai's "Ganga Dev Sword Dance"

Culturefest

September 27, 2009

Photo by Lesha Patterson

"Balkan Beat Box" Student Dance

Culturefest

September 27, 2009

Photo by Lesha Patterson

"Mission" Dance with Dandasha Dance Company

Culturefest

September 27, 2009

Photo by Lesha Patterson

Meera, Bulgarian Chicks, Wandering the Streets Happy Solo, Pentaphobe Duet, Born to Be Wild Solo, Mirry's Blood Oil Solo, Stacey's Solo, Ganga Dev Sword Dance, Beach Blanket Shimmy

Indian Wedding in Nashville, TN

October 1, 200

"Oriental Images" Solo

Amberetta's Hafla at Barking Legs

September 2009

Photo by Ursula Hodge

"Oriental Images" Solo

Raquy and the Cavemen show at Loose Cannon

November 12, 2009

Photo by Bob Edens

"Spanish Zill" Duet

Raquy and the Cavemen show at Loose Cannon

November 12, 2009

Photo by Bob Edens

"Gypsy's Kolo" Comedy Dance

Raquy and the Cavemen show at Loose Cannon

November 12, 2009

Photo by Bob Edens

"Mozarella Schticks" Solo

Mirabai Bellydance's The Fringe Benefit

November 14, 2009

Photo by Mike Eaves

"Spanish Zill" Duet

(Not pictured: Beach Blanket Shimmy, Walk It Out, Gypsy's Kolo)

Mirabai Bellydance's The Fringe Benefit

November 14, 2009

Photo by Mike Eaves

Not pictured:

"Crucify," "Laughter," and "Falling Awake"

Chattanooga State's Continuing Education Showcase

November 19, 2009

"Spanish Zill" duet (Not pictured: Hang On St. Christopher Solo")

Amberetta's Hafla at Moon Haven Studio

November 20, 2009

"Crucify" Aerial Dance Piece

(Not Pictured: "Falling Awake" Process-Oriented Four Piece Dance, "Laughter" Aerial Trio)

Chattanooga State Dance Program Fall Semester Student Recital

December 3, 2009

Photo by Lisa Denney

"Bhangra Beat It," My first Studen Choreography

Emerald Hips Holiday Hafla

December 5, 2009

"Jingle Hop/Jingle Bell Raq" with Amberetta

(Not pictured: Spanish Zill Duet)

Emerald Hips Holiday Hafla

December 5, 2009

Photo by Timothy Narron

"Bhangra Beat It" Student Choreography

Zanzibar Studio Holiday Hafla

December 19, 2009

Photo by Bob Edens

"Walls" Solo

Zanzibar Studio Holiday Hafla

December 19, 2009

Photo by Bob Edens

"Spanish Zill" Duet

Zanzibar Studio Holiday Hafla

December 19, 2009

Photo by Bob Edens

"Jingle Hop/Jingle Bell Raq" with Amberetta

Zanzibar Studio Holiday Hafla

December 19, 2009

Photo by Stacey Nolan

Pulse and blood and touching

2009-12-20T09:51:00.000-08:00

Last night I had a unique moment of presence that I will cherish. I ended up alone after a high energy group performance backstage with several minutes of anticipation before a solo. By myself, I heard Amberetta's music transitioning from slow beauty to a fast drum solo. Perhaps the music helped bring me into my body, or perhaps being in my favorite environment, the studio which opened the doors to a positive relationship with my body.

I stood back in the boutique, our temporary makeshift "backstage" area, and I closed my eyes and breathed. At first I thought I was nervous and began to worry. I placed my palms together in a prayer pose and tried to calm my mind, asking something outside of me to be able to do the dance that I wanted to share with audience, honoring the subject of the dance, which was very concrete and real to me(for once). I had picked a subject which worked well for my kinesthetic self, so that was grounding.

But by watching my mind and body from an observer's point of view, I realized I wasn't nervous. I was simply experiencing adrenaline intensely. I had just come off stage and had not had to immediately face the crowd and engage in conversation, so I was left alone with my body full of energy and pulse. Added to this, I was anticipating another performance, one that was very personal and not what I feel the audience expects or wants from me. So I had a lot going on in my body. And I could feel all those things rushing around and interacting with each other, but by breathing and not fearing all the mish mashed stuff in my head, I could let it pass by and pulse through my veins.

As the drum picked up and I could hear the audience in love with Ms. Amberetta, I stood still, closed my eyes, and opened my arms and lifted my palms. I have rarely been present enough to experience deep within my body what post-and-pre-performance bodies can feel like. This one felt warm, pulsing, and alive. I could feel my heart pounding and pumping blood. I could feel the blood lighting up in my arms, pumping all the way to my fingertips. The thought crossed through my head, "I have rarely felt so alive as I do right.this.moment." Then, hilariously, I thought about True Blood and vampires. I remember watching a movie or show once in which someone who was dead was explaining that, when we are alive, we don't notice how warm and alive we feel until it is gone. When a dead person is walking around in stories, they are cold and have none of this lifeblood, pulse, breath. I took a moment to let that sink in, and right about then, the audience was going nuts for Ms. Amberetta, and it was time for me to go on.

I learned something constructive from the dance I did last night---unlike my solo at Raquy, the focus was not on me and my story. Instead, it was more about something external that I could TOUCH and with which I had a relationship. I think this made it easier for me to step outside of my comfort zone. It wasn't slowing down and opening up my heart for people to see, which verily terrifies me. But it was slowing down and depicting a story that involved me as a sidenote.

And it helped that I wanted nothing to do with that dance until I rehearsed it in the space where I was to perform it. I was about to write Lacy and bail on the dance until I went into the space and turned on the music that had seduced me. Suddenly, the dance was born. It wasn't me---it was the space. It ended up being one of the most choreographed pieces I have done, because it wasn't mine. So I wasn't as attached to what people thought of it. The dance was very, very much about that physical space in our studio, and everything that has soaked into that place.

I've been trying to utilize the tools Ann has given our class about staying true to a concept in dance composition. For me, I found this worked when I could hang on to something physical and concrete. It may not be as easy for me with something abstract. I need physical grounding when dancing, the same way I wanted to be barefoot when I got married. I need to be able to touch things, which is probably why I continuously have gotten to the ground at some point in almost all of my solos in the last year. I hope to be able to expand this idea in future dances to something that is more choreographically versatile. Maybe I can find a quality or a grounding that doesn't involve physical touch and practice that to tie me to my concept in the moment of dancing. I'm very much influenced by the presence of people and their energy, which makes me want to perform TO people, but it's not always easy to keep my focus on the concept behind the dance. So we'll see. I had to document this process, though, because it would probably be easy to forget tomorrow.

Some photos

2009-11-29T19:18:00.000-08:00

I need to put up some new photos because the one that comes up when I link to this page is my anorexic photo, and that's just a little creepy.

Yoga Teacher Certification 2009

www.youryoga.com

Photo by Lesha Patterson Photography

(www.leshapattersonphotography.com)

Photo by Natalie Lodico

www.photolodico.com

Yoga Teacher Training 2009

www.clearspringyoga.com

So excited for Donna Mejia's Tribalcon lecture!

2009-11-28T15:17:00.001-08:00

This is taken from the TribalCon email sent out by Ziah and Awalim:

Donna's Keynote lecture!

Keynote Lecture Presentation

Spotlight on Hyper-sexuality: Historical Perspectives, Projections, Gender Expectations, and Our Choices

Historically, “bellydance” and Near Eastern dance has frequently been categorized as licentious, unrefined, artless—and in cases of extreme misunderstanding—vulgar. Yet despite this regrettable labeling and caricatured imaging, the dance form persists in attracting practitioners from all communities and walks of life. Near Eastern dance movements are the oldest to survive industrialization. For that reason alone the dance deserves careful examination, study and reflection on its continued relevancy and ongoing transformations throughout the ages. In this presentation, Donna Mejia will provide an overview of the historical, social, legal and religious influences that continue to perpetuate discriminatory views of Near Eastern dance as hyper-sexualized. She then highlights developments in gender studies that challenge our coding of what society presumes to be masculine and feminine, or “inherent” in gender differences. With her usual candor and humor, Donna will address the very controversial issues we have all encountered… at one time or another… in our love for, and dedication to, this genre. As a special treat, Donna’s presentation includes rare film footage and a recommended reading list for further study. Notebooks and pens are highly encouraged!

Donna Mejia Biography

Donna Mejia is a choreographer, lecturer, teacher, administrator, and performer specializing in contemporary dance, traditions of the African and Arab Diaspora, and emerging fusion traditions in world electronica. For 10 years she was a faculty member at Colorado College and Director of the Colorado College International Summer Dance Festival. For twelve years she served as managing director of the award-winning Harambee African Dance Ensemble of CU-Boulder.. Donna is an authorized instructor of Brazilian Silvestre Modern Dance Technique and is the primary person assisting in codifying this esoteric study of dance and the body. Donna was the Guest Artist in Residence for Smith College Dance from 2006 through 2009, and now balances her time teaching part-time for Smith College, Mt. Holyoke College, directing the Sovereign Performance Collective, and touring internationally to teach, choreograph and perform for colleges, dance festivals and private organizations. She consults for several publishers, theatrical productions, community organizations, and nonprofits, is writing articles based on her research and teachings in the evolving field of Ethics/Integrity in Global Dance Culture, and presents lectures on the deconstruction of the femme fatale in dance.

Tired of goof.

2009-11-15T10:39:00.000-08:00

I think I've maxed out on my goofy dances for some time. Or maybe just solos. Probably related to hormones and sugar/alcohol being added back into my body for a moment, but I came home from performing last night miserable. What I keep thinking is that I am getting so tired of using performance cheats. I hadn't planned to do the goofiest dance two nights in a week, but it ended up on the setlist, and I think I know why I was resistant to it.

I knew Saturday I was going to perform on a less-interesting version of the same solo I've done before b/c of lack of preparation time. And on Thursday I was going to perform a risky solo that I did NOT want to do at a bar b/c it was too emotionally revealing. But I didn't mind doing a completely over-the-top buffoon act after the risky solo, almost to mask it. For some reason, I didn't want to do out-goof myself on Saturday but went ahead and agreed to do the silly dance.

Anyway...thoughts today.

Take to the sky

2009-10-28T13:14:00.000-07:00

I'm finally getting somewhere in my aerial class---off the ground. It's been incredibly hard physically and mentally and emotionally for this little Taurus to get upside down and off the earth. But the whole class is finally moving towards air!

I'm having fun improvising to different values with my partner. Today we were assigned "Laughter," which ended up fun and goofy. "Balance" was probably the best one we've done so far, and "Healing" was a bit of a struggle for me (though alone on the ground, that was the easiest word).

It's very interesting to see what comes up in that class, but I'm currently loving the new challenge of having to figure out how to move my body while dangling.

Lauryn's Movement Biography

2009-10-22T20:38:00.000-07:00

I am too verbose for all websites, and I need a place to fully list all my amazing teachers for my own memory. I decided to write an updated biography on my own page so that I can update it whenever I want!

Early Arts and Culture Education

Lauryn Elise has been actively involved in performing arts since she was a small child as a steady student of theatre. She began studying movement through Tae Kwon Do (Greg Roy's) and theatre-based dance (Girls Preparatory School and Chattanooga Theatre Centre). Lauryn was introduced to modern dance at GPS in junior high but was terrified of leotards and her body at the time. She pursued theatre, writing, and photography, and she idolized Terpsichord dancers from a safe distance.

At Bard College, Lauryn studied theatre in her first year and enjoyed a movement class based in Alexander Technique from Jean Churchill. Later in her Bard studies, Lauryn shifted her focus to psychology and her work advocating for survivors of sexual and relationship violence. One of Lauryn's favorite courses at Bard was Shelley Wyant's "Neutral Masks," incorporating movement through the use of masks.

History of Teachers

In July 2003, Lauryn returned home from studying abroad in Budapest (medieval and gender studies focus at Central European University, a graduate program in Hungary). On an uncharacteristic whim, she started belly dance classes at Zanzibar Studio to deal with an eating disorder. Immediately hooked (and eventually cured), she continued to bellydance for two years in New York, learning belly dance from both Allegra Hirschman (Three Sisters Dance of San Francisco) and flamenco major Victoria Jacobs (Sapience Dance Company and Barrio Flamenco of Seattle). Lauryn enjoyed the spirit and camaraderie of her sister/brother dancers in college and would return to Zanzibar on school breaks to study detailed technique.

After obtaining her Bachelors of Arts in Psychology from Bard, Lauryn moved back to marry her truly amazing husband Jared and to obsessively dance. At Zanzibar Studio, she studied extensively with Andrea Perkins (former director of Dandasha Dance Company) and Jules Downum (currently of Urban Tribal Dance Company). Lauryn is now honored to be performing in Mirabai Bellydance with two of her former Zanzibar teachers, Miranda Cagle and Stacey Nolan. Lauryn recently has also taken classes from Lacy Dickerson and Mattie Waters of Dandasha Dance Company and enjoy collaborating with them regularly.

Lauryn has enjoyed Intensive Workshops with Mira Betz as well as Bellydance Superstars Zoe Jakes and Moria Chappell (and her mother Dahna!). Lauryn has also studied with Rachel Brice and Mardi Love (The Indigo and BDSS), Donna Mejia, Heather Stants (Urban Tribal), Jill and Rose (Ultra Gypsy), Amy Sigil (Unmata), Elizabeth Strong, Ariellah, Asharah, Onca (Mezmer Society), Maria Hamer and Olivia Kissel (Zafira Dance Company), Mel and Karin (Kassar), Amberetta, Megha (Devyani), Paulette Rees-Denis (Gypsy Caravan), Nichole Hanna (Gypsyville), Rachel Lazarus Solo (Blue Damsel), Ziah Ali (Awalim), Jennifer Speiden (Dance of the Fates), Fatina, Mindy Haworth (formerly of Samadhi), Irina Velichko, Leslie Ashford, and Leyla Jouvana and Roland.

Lauryn has studied Middle Eastern and Balkan music with Tobias Roberson (Stellamara), Raquy Danzinger Raquy and the Cavemen), Onca and August Hoerr (Mezmer Society).

Other past movement workshops/classes have included learning from: Dee Wagoner (Ecstatic Dance), Allen Pittman (Tai Ji), Elizabeth Longphre (Modern Dance), Cathy Kasch (Modern Dance), Lindsay Fussell (Theatre and Swing Dance), Katie Kasch (Contrapasso Modern Dance), Lula Licious of Panty Raid (Burlesque), Marsha Barsky (Alexander Technique), Brenden Bohannon (Capoeira), Lindsey Leduc Brenner (Jazz), Nomalanga Eniafe (West African Dance), Keith Fitzpatrick (HipHop), and Travis Gatling (Modern), David Appell (Modern), Monica (Modern), and the Fred Astaire Dance Studio (Ballroom).

Yoga instructors have included: Jill Miller, Sue Reynolds, Stephanie Rider, Anthony Crutcher, Janka Livoncova, Andrea Perkins, Jennifer Speiden, Madia Swicord, Marsha Barsky, Stephanie Keach, Shala Worsley, Marion Stone, Barbara Hall, Kim Eisendorfer, and Jenny MacMerril.

Lauryn's Teaching Experience

In 2006, Lauryn began substitute teaching for Zanzibar Studio. In 2007, Lauryn taught a small regular belly dance workout class and and developed a camp for teens in March, incorporating tribal dance and leadership skills. At the camp, she taught daily dance to Girls Inc. participants and hosted Mindy Haworth and Jules Downum for mini-workshops. Lauryn began offering demonstrations and lessons for local non-profits in 2007. Lauryn has donated demonstrations and lessons to Girls Incorporated of Chattanooga; The Partnership for Families, Children, and Adults (The Family Violence Services); and Signal Centers, Inc.

In 2008 Lauryn began assisting Jules Downum in her final classes at Zanzibar and then took on her own weekly classes at the studio. Lauryn has taught full sessions in Introduction to Bellydance, Bellydance Basics, Tribal Improv, and Choreography at Zanzibar. Lauryn taught belly dance through Dalton State College's Continuing Education program from January 2009-November 2009, when the department closed. In 2009, Lauryn began offering workshops through Zanzibar such as Intro to Tribal Improv, Gentle Yoga, and Shimmies Infused with Yin Yoga.

Lauryn became a certified Yoga Instructor in June 2009 through the Asheville Yoga Center under the direction of Stephanie Keach and has taught yoga at Signal Centers, Inc (Mixed Level), Northshore Yoga (Beginner's), Madia's Studio (Yin), Moon Haven Studio (Beginner's/Gentle). In her certification process, Lauryn assisted in classes by Janka Livoncova. In 2009 Lauryn also began training under Ann Law (Modern Dance, Dance Composition) and Amy Powell (Aerial Dance, Dance Performance) through the Chattanooga State Dance Program.

Performance

Lauryn has appeared as a soloist in local productions of Othello and A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum. Lauryn debuted her modern dance performance in 2009 at the Orange Grove Dancers Concert and the Chattanooga State spring concert. She was honored to be able to perform with Ann Law in her 2009 Passion Flower performance.

Lauryn had performed group belly dance with Bard College Bellydance Collective, Tribe Zanzibar, and Dandasha Dance Company. She is now a proud founding member of Mirabai Bellydance (www.mirabaibellydance.com). Mirabai Bellydance was founded in 2008 and began it's annual Fringe Benefit in 2009 to benefit Chattanooga Room in the Inn.

Business

In 2004, Lauryn obtained her certification as a Constructive Living Instructor, trained under Ron Madson and Patricia Ryan Madson (Stanford University Theatre Faculty and Author of Improv Wisdom: Don't Prepare, Just Show Up!). Constructive Living is a pragmatic life-way model based on Japanese therapies.

In 2006, Lauryn and her mother Diana (also a certified CL instructor) hosted Dr. David Reynolds, founder of Constructive Living, for the IACL (International Association of Constructive Living), public appearances, and a ten day intensive CL training where Lauryn and Diana assisted Dr. Reynolds in training new instructors.

Lauryn and Diana recently opened The Asala Center in Chattanooga with her mother, offering sessions in Constructive Living counseling, private yoga lessons, private belly dance lessons, and resume' assistance. For more information on Asala's services, please see www.asalacenter.blogspot.com or email constructive.livingTN@gmail.com

Me and Neil'll be hanging out with the dream king

2009-09-15T09:32:00.000-07:00

Things I forgot to log: Modern Dance class, putting colorful scarves on our feet and having one be prince and one be princess. First not being able to lift feet off ground then not allowing feet to touch ground.
Only arm-dancing, with scarves. One direction of the room we used scarves that were light, veil-like, the other direction of the room we used heavy, tarp-like scarves.

Today we used the small balls to work out our neck and sacrum, noticing how it effected our ability to lay flat on the ground. Then we did our amoeba on a slip and slide dance, on the ground, moving while noticing how our backs could be massaged by the ground. Then we experimented with head-tail connection and weight as well as bound/free. We drew how our rolling felt and then talked about how it sounded and breathed. (Abstractly, not literally)

We watched Ruth St. Denis (GOT to get a hold of the video where she's talking in the 60s...fabulous...Incense interesting) and Mary Wigman (crazy Witch Dance!) and looked at their breath, head tail, etc.

Then we played with Mother-Daughter standing and sitting, saying Yes/No, and we turned back and front using different body parts. Finally, we watched more MirrorMask looking at bodies, relationships.

When I left, the world was grey and therefore purple flours stood out really, really well.

My dreams have gotten incredibly literal lately. Need to log them somewhere secret.

Never gain weight from a doughnut hole

2009-09-09T19:19:00.001-07:00

Why I won't Stop Dancing
December 2003

I was super-sad when I started this crazy hobby. More to follow

bouncing off of clouds

2009-09-09T10:35:00.000-07:00

Today in Aerial Dance, we listed our top ten values from a standardized list. It was hard, but I figured out what mine were, or "should" be in my mind.

Then we played on various props---I wasn't feeling very adventurous with the hanging today after tons of core conditioning (tons to me, that is). So I played with a ball for most of class and experimented with balancing and trying to use my strength differently. Anusara principles of alignment are emphasized in the arms, but I am having a hard time incorporating them. I tend to want to stretch and arch and roll around, doing what feels good. I push myself to play with different things, but my knowledge of my boundaries are ringing loud and clear. I pushed myself enough today to where I fell several times and have a decent set of bruises and scrapes, but I'm trying to walk a line of building strength while also not being ridiculous. I'm 27---I need my body for my profession right now, and I'm strongly in to self-preservation. But that has hindered my experimentation to a degree. And, hanging is hard on my hands, arms, and core! But I'm working on it.

So in Dance Performance, we had to dance our number one value, which for me, was Spirituality. Spirituality is easier to dance than, say, Purpose, I think. Or at least, it wasn't too terribly difficult for me. However, I found myself making balanced, symmetrical movements---that's crazy because I really don't like symmetry very much. I find it boring. But that's where me and my ball were today. I was pleased that the instructor was able to get that there was a sense of gathering something from the outside in, and she noted that for some, spirituality might be a more inward experience. So that's an interesting difference. I did a lot of chest opening, reaching, but also curling inward. It was rather interesting, and I liked the process more than the result. The process was fascinating to explore.

Now, is Spirituality my priority right now? Not like it should be. But this was a helpful reminder of why it's important and what it feels like in my body to me. I left feeling energized and lighter, even though I know my body was drained and sweaty.

Mother, the car is here

2009-09-08T10:47:00.000-07:00

Today Modern dance was all about mothers.

Well, we began with some very intense pilates (intense for me, at least) and analysis of posture and movement (yum!).

But we steered into mother-daughter dynamics, after some homework on our relationship with our mother and on a dream theorist. My dream theorist was Fritz Perls, who is the inventor of Gestalt therapy...interesting. I also had dreamed about my mother, in addition to my neighbor worrying that her sharks were loose and many photographs that had some problem or were being damaged by the ocean.

It is strange to dream of yourself in a photograph. One photograph was me on the beach, in a hippie shirt, like an actual photo that exists of me with some children from a CISV camp. I looked discontent but peaceful somehow, and then all of a sudden I was in the photo, on the beach, trying to protect the other photographs from the salt water.

Previously in the dream, I had been wining and dining with my mother, on our way to a fancy opera or theatre show. We decided to have a final glass of wine before leaving, and then I tried to pick up photographs from Lesha's staff. However, the ones I picked up were the wrong ones---blurry, old, from high school and college and also college belly dance (though those were great to see). Meanwhile, I am very conscious that there are giant prints of artistic nude photos of me, hanging all around. I'm hoping my mom doesn't see them, and that's when I look at the beach photo and transport into the photo.

So we are to create dances about mother-daughter relationships. I have a great relationship with my mom, and every so often this month I'll realize that it takes something special to create a business relationship in addition to your mother-daughter relationship. But it hadn't really occurred to me much before recently.

In terms of movement, I seem to have something going on with my left side. From my bunion to my falling arch to noticing today that that side is less flexible in the side (at least on this particular morning). Trying to focus on core engagement, head-tail connection, not walking only in the heel, and creating space behind the knees. And yet, I'm also trying to work on hamstrings...I wonder how that works with the space behind the knees.

Our very favorite fearscape

2009-09-07T07:59:00.001-07:00

I've been told that when I dance, I seem comfortable on stage. And more than anything, I am told this when I am improvising (which is almost every solo I've ever done).

It's my major asset in performance, so I've been trying to figure out what that is and if it's true. Is it something that can be learned? If I forget it someday, how do I return?

Various theories have come up:

1) I've been performing on stage (small stages but stages nonetheless) since I was very young, and I've always loved it, so it's not something that scares me as much as I crave it. I like attention, what can I say? Summary: the benefit to a character flaw?

2) My mother talked to me once about her body learning to relax when it's in a potentially dangerous situation. She had to teach it to do that to test for Tae Kwon Do, since of course you need your body at its full capacity, which relaxing brings. I've tried to consciously calm my body in that manner before performance. Summary: relaxation.

3) The more nervous I am, the more energy I get. Suzanne Smartt always told me I was a money-player in theatre. As in, I wouldn't "bring it" in performance until their were seats filled with money-paying audience members. The bigger the crowd, the easier it is for me to turn that energy into extroversion. They become a mass that can easily blur into something large and unnameable. I used to purposefully take my glasses off and never buy contacts so that the crowd literally was a blur. I also used to get more scared if I could see someone I knew. Now that is fading. A tiny crowd of peers is the hardest thing in the world for me to actually "perform" to. So I am very bad at rehearsing "stage faces." I would rather hide under the bed. Summary: improvisation.

These things are easy enough answers to me, but only the physical aspect of relaxing the body is something useful to others.

While still considering this quest of sharing the peace that comes in performing, and specifically in improvising, I returned to a time in my past when I began improvisation in dance. Yes, before I ever performed as a Zanzibar student, as a five-second member of Dandasha, or in Mirabai, I was improvising. At Bard, we would learn choreography, and I would religiously learn it and do it as best I could. But we also had trade dances, forced mini-improvisation. And furthermore, as soon as I was allowed, I started improvising solos. I tried to nail down choreographies, but I had to write it in another language because I didn't even know how to find the count in the music to which I danced (sorry, world, that was an abomination!). So I had some wine, and I would improvise. After all, it's what my heroes in that dance world were doing half the time, so it didn't seem taboo at all. But improvisation began earlier than that for me.

I used to poorly attempt Improvisation in theatre. We had a troupe, and its downfall involved mother and daughter pirates on an iceberg, not getting along. Long story.

In case I haven't blogged about this, I was the anti-dancer in high school. It was almost a core part of my identity, that I couldn't dance. And yet, I idolized the modern dance students in Terpsichord and would mimic them as a joke to others or to myself, experimenting with movement. I would drive, blasting Tori Amos down the highway, and I would DANCE strange Tori-mimicry dances in the car, but since I was seated, it didn't count. I would writhe about in ways that are much more dangerous than my wrist circles and snake arms that I do at stop signs now. In fact, in theatre, my major block towards performing was to bring it in to my body. I could decently act mentally, vocally, emotionally, but I recall always feeling like the place where I was cut off from the experience was at my neck. I did not feel okay connecting the two. And it's been a struggle for me to learn EXPRESSION in dance, above the neck, if it's an emotion that I don't like (which is most dance emotion other than happiness, until recently).

So dance was something that was only done as a necessary evil as a part of a play/musical or something that was a joke or, finally, something that was done only when drinking at gay bars in Hungary.

Then one night in the outskirts of Budapest, I was trying solemly to get myself out of some bad habits and bad situations. I was struggling with an eating disorder, and I remember eating some delicious sausage (only a few bites). I felt so funny about it afterwards that I looked for wine to help me forget about having eaten something off my restricted list of tolerable foods. I couldn't find any wine and started to realize that I needed to deal with my attachment to wine at the time, too. I couldn't get up and compulsively walk, because I was trapped at a house on the Danube, far from my familiar city streets that were my exercise routes at late hours of the night. And there was this Bulgarian man who wouldn't leave me alone. I didn't know how to keep him away from me, and this Georgian folk music started playing. I kicked off my shoes and ran away from the man and started spinning, thinking it would burn calories and distance me from him. I had a belt that had long fringe on it, and the more I spun, the more of a space it carved out for me. He tried to dance with me, but it would hit him if he got too close. I retreated into my own world, dancing with only me, my belt, and the moon. I didn't know what to do for my eating disorder besides keep dancing off the food. I didn't know what else to do for my inability to stay safe on my own besides keep dancing. I didn't know how to dance, and I certainly didn't know how to dance to Georgian folk music. But it was my only option at the time, and it felt safe.

Thinking about that, I came to realize that dancing, improvising, feels safe. When I am onstage, nothing is going to happen to me that could really hurt me. People will probably judge me, and they may not like what I am doing at all. But that's the only thing that can happen besides falling, and those things are nothing compared to what can happen when you're not the center of attention. An audience is safe---even if they are judging you, they know where you are and would know if something bad were going to happen to you. And the likeliness is that someone there would help you. To me, I'd rather be judged and fail and be the laughingstock of the town than be unsafe. I feel more vulnerable offstage than on.

Offstage, I compulsively lock my doors, I am hyper-vigilant about whether or not alarms are on, I plan out my escape routes any time I am walking alone. This seems highly bizarre for a girl who wandered the streets of Budapest at 3am often just to burn calories. But somewhere in between the invincibility of youth and today, I became afraid. And perhaps performance has become the safe place for me. Even when I have completely failed and have done terrible performances, it has always protected me. So I trust it, and I trust the audience.

Sometimes I breathe you in

2009-09-01T18:43:00.001-07:00

Day 1 of Modern Dance/Dance Composition with Ann Law

Anatomy, circus, and dreams---this class is exactly what I want.

We're even going to watch MirrorMax (mask? I can't recall) and choreograph based on that.

Today we connected with the breath and introduced the concepts of Shaping and Carving. Ann noticed that I was a "carver" rather than a shaper. As far as I can tell, carving arm motions are engaged through the end of the fingertips, and more direct movement. Shaping seems to have the engagement lighter and travel throughout the ends of the fingertips, encompassing space. Also less direct movement. Something to play with.

We tried to breathe laterally (ribs expanding out) as well as with the sternum and upper back opening up. Hard to connect with the back in comparison to the sternum.

Breath:
1) life
2) movement
3) rhythm

Very important. After all the focus on breath, I felt open but had a bit of a headache and felt a little funny! Lots of oxygen.

So today began with some pathetic lazy yoga on my mat, just to solidify the habit.
Then Dance class.
Then I tried to work on business some, but I ended up very tired and taking a nap.
Then I gave a free yoga lesson for one person at Signal Centers (everyone who paid me last week skipped!). We did some gentle stretching and a few sun salutations. She had a knee issue, so that was good to work with and modify. I'm hoping to entice people who are in wheelchairs to join in time.
Then I went to sub for Andrea's class. The women were a wonderful class, and I ended up with 10 extra minutes because I forgot that I had until 7pm. So we did a nice long circle dance, and everyone enjoyed it. I'm excited for the next session and think circle dances need to be a giant part of Intro.

I'll be offering a yoga workshop and intro to tribal improv workshop on Saturday the 12th, so I get to plan for that and try things on before my Wednesday class begins. I need to edit my choreo music. (Or rather have someone edit it)

In other news, I just said something true in real life, and I wonder what the effect was.

Bliss of another kind

2009-08-26T06:36:00.001-07:00

I've left my job so I can take dance classes and begin honing my counseling skills again, using Constructive Living this time. I want to see what I can build right now so that I know what my options are as I apply to the bigger program that I want to pursue.

So. I like to say this:

I'm trying to follow my bliss, but it's running around like a chicken with its head cut off.

School starts Monday and I have to miss the first class to attend a neuroscience lecture at Focus regarding trauma and eating disorders. I hate having to miss the first day, but trauma and eating disorders are a major academic interest of mine, and I need to continue educating myself in that area whilst learning how to dance.

I'm feeling rather terrified about Aerial Dance, especially after looking at a video of it, but I'm also open to possibilities right now: open to liking the challenge, and open to struggling with something. Either must be beneficial, anyway.

So much changing all at once---my first belly dance instructor is moving to Hawaii. My office space is having to close right as we're getting it going. My mom and I will be opening a new office in October. I spent yesterday filling out paperwork that I had to change from a previous address for our business. My day job ending, and I jump ship early for school.

I've started teaching yoga at my old work again, and I am suddenly subbing for Northshore yoga, which is exciting but unexpected. My own yoga practice is needing regularity badly, but I know that my schedule will be more solid after Monday, when classes begin.

a year of moving. or at least a semester. I'll try to keep this updated.

and when I dance for him, somebody leave the light on

2009-04-10T07:29:00.000-07:00

Researching Orientalism in belly dance to prepare for Mira Betz intensive...

I came across these two videos from 1955's Son of Sinbad. The first, the woman is Turkish and actually a belly dancer. She's the one in the blue pasties in this album. This isn't what I do when I dance, by the way. I found this through a great description of Orientalism linked here: http://www.dancewichita.com/wbd/vision/orientalism.html

The second video's dancer is Lili St. Cyr, an American dancer, actress, and stripper. I think those who belly dance can tell the difference between the two in technique. I'm interested if anyone outside of our dance community can see the difference. There isn't as much dancing in this second clip, as the other "harem girls" and the males watching are on screen just as much.

I'm sure the image above (album cover) is the kind of bellydance that many people assume I do, if they haven't seen any other kind. This blog entry isn't about dispelling that myth, but if you'd like to get into that discussion, watch these video clips first just for contrast:

And by the by, I'm not trying to place tribal style or tribal fusion at a different standard from cabaret and classical styles. It's just that I think American Tribal Style and tribal fusion are interesting contrasts in case anyone is freaking out that I'm posting half-naked women all over my blog.

SO back to these Son of Sinbad clips (please note that both clips star Mr. Vincent Price!).

Orientalism abounds in this movie, which was condemned by the Catholic Legion of Decency. I wonder what they think about most movies we watch today!

For instance, this is how bellydance was most recently portrayed, in Charlie Wilson's War. I did see this movie, partially because my Dad told me that there was a belly dancer in the documentary about it. The documentary is less hollywood. This woman, for instance, is a dancer and choreographer in the burlesque world, I understand. However, what she is doing is NOT what we're taught in bellydance classes! And to me, this hollywood clip just put the hard work of bellydance students in America back 50 years. And I understand this to be based on a somewhat true story, but with bellydance now working hard to be recognized as something beyond "exotic dance," this just didn't do us any favors. There isn't one move that I can recognize in here, but she's wearing a costume reflective of bellydance and ridiculously sexual in her intent.

So what do these images do?

Well, Son of Sinbad shows a pretty stereotypical Orientalist view of bellydance. The women are veiled, exotic, and dancing for the male gaze. The women are draped around the sultan-type like tapestries, very passive and "Other" to the American eye. One could argue that this makes invisible the women of the authentic Middle Eastern countries that this image conjures up to Americans.

So what's the difference between that vintage clip and this one?

This dancer is dancing within the context of an Egyptian movie (I believe, and I believe she is a Greek woman who lived in Egypt most of her life). What I note about her attitude is that it is 1) not represented as "Other" from some exotic land 2) she is totally self-possessed. She's flirtatious and sassy, but she seems much more interested in her own body than the man singing next to her that she occasionally acknowledges.

Now, as an American woman who chooses to dance in costuming and to music that creates an implied "Other," what is my responsibility?

I thought I'd be answering that question tonight instead of asking more questions, but all day I've just been looking and observing and studying, and I've worn myself out before I have finished!

So I will end with an homage to Donna Mejia, who has inspired me to delve further into this question. And with great thanks to Mira Betz, with whom I'll get to explore this question next week. I'll post two links plus notes towards Donna, and the second one is a happy surprise that I stumbled upon on this Good Friday. It turns out that my new hero of bellydance has chosen to explore a character who has entranced me since I was a little girl, Mary Magdalene. One of Donna's major points in her lecture at TribalCon was to give credit where credit is due and to explain your intention---so I happily copy and paste her notes along with these links.

Tribal Solo
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3RtFgo2-NWk

"Entire Solo filmed by Sean Kinlin. Donna is Visiting Artist in Residence for Smith College (2006-2008). Music is "Semename" by Mercan Dede, and "Last Mosque of Herzegovina" by Muslimgauze. Donna's Partial Program Notes: Like most transformations in dance, Tribal Fusion is a direct response to music's technical innovations and electronic experimentation. My personal approach is inspired by years of research coupled with the highest regard for my teachers and elders. This performance is offered in full gratitude for those who bore the ridicule, persecution and retribution often directed toward women who dared to dance publicly. "

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BAUyx2wm5Wk

"Performed March 2009 for the Five College Dance Department Faculty Concert hosted by Hampshire College. This excerpt draws from a larger thesis work reinterpreting portraits of
the femme fatale in performance. This segment re-visions the private, inner life of Mary Magdalene. Research for this work included review of 6 different translations/interpretations of The Gospel of Mary, also known as the Berlin Codex. This document was found buried in Akhmim, Egypt and was lost until January of 1896. Once translated from its Coptic language, its revelations (incomplete and partially destroyed) instigated intense theological debate about the role of Mary Magdalene and the founding principles/intentions of Christianity. This dance explores the alternative scholarship surrounding the inferred intimate relationship of Mary (Miriam) and Jesus (Yeshua)—both as adepts in esoteric exploration and visionaries regarding the evolutionary potential of human form. The score is a Byzantine nativity hymn attributed to the 4th century Church of Antioch and sung in Arabic. The astonishing and remarkable vocalist is Sister Maria Keyrouz. Disclosure: I am not Christian and this work is an academic and historic exploration--not intended to convey or insult religiosity. To those who cherish Christianity as a personal path please accept my esteemed deference. My full gratitude to family, friends, students and colleagues—thank you."

As a Christian, I do not find this insulting at all. It is respectful and beautiful to me.

A Little Mental Yoga

2009-04-05T14:19:00.000-07:00

Back from yogatown, as I like to call it.

This is the sixth time that I have joined with beautiful people for a weekend, talking about bodies, moving bodies, and being in bodies.

We revisited the Bhagavad Gita, which I was supposed to have read in college. This time, this translation, I found myself more interested. Relinquishing the fruits of one's actions came up again and again in the text, and I hope that the concept stays with me. If this yoga training is encouraging anything from me, it's a need to let go, to release control. To say "yes, and" as Patricia Ryan Madson would write. The times in the last two years that seem silly to me are those in which I resisted, creating tension in my body, trying to build a wall of control for what the fruits of my actions would be.

Why not say yes, and accept the flow that is coming towards me with or without my resistance.

Or, when it is appropriate, say no more. Yoga is also showing me the value in taking my time, giving myself space to rest, accepting where I am.

We did a guided meditation about our life's pattern. The major theme that I initially saw was very clear, that I jump in before I am ready. This was not surprising to me. From playing on the more competitive "Black" soccer team instead of "Blue" when I would have been a much better "Blue" player to even jumping into this yoga training. Jumping in to assisting before I was ready, choosing Psychology as a major before having taken a class in it, jumping into Advanced class at Zanzibar long before ready, that's just what I do. And my meditation did not necessarily tell me to stop doing that, as I do learn and get energized by these situations. However, it showed me the pattern of inevitably having a stressful breakdown when it all became too much.

In yoga poses, I know that I am not as advanced, and I have been careful to not hurt myself by holding back. However, that becomes a crutch, and when I do try something that I've assumed I can't do, the results are interesting. Sometimes I fail, sometimes I do better than expected. But I know in yoga, thanks to the wonderful instructors, that I am allowed to listen to my body. I wonder what creates a difference off the mat? What is it in me that says that I will be better off flinging myself around? Or is it just that I have not had to make major decisions in the last six months? It makes me consider that I best truly take time to breathe and reflect and research when considering grad school and other next steps. There may be nothing wrong in jumping in and learning to swim this time, but perhaps it's time to experiment with a more conscious decision. Perhaps that has been my hesitation in taking the GRE. I feel pressure to dive in and meet deadlines, especially with the pending lay off at my work. But maybe it's not that time yet.

In terms of movement, we played with Kundalini style yoga and Angela Farmer. I am very intrigued by Angela Farmer and am grateful to have finally heard a retelling of the story Moria told us about yoga's birth.

"Any kinda touch I think is better than none, even upside down"

2009-03-30T18:40:00.000-07:00

Hi, world. I feel compelled to write on movement. So here it is.

Tonight was my third night of assisting in a yoga class. The instructor I'm assisting is brilliant, and I'm very fortunate to get to observe her class. Tonight they used chairs to support camel and wheel poses, and finally they rested in a savasana with legs on the chair.

Tonight I took a step back and observed more than stressed to try to find proper adjustments. Watching bodies and the tightness that they hold in different places fascinates me. I think with more practice, I'll know more what the altered shapes mean.

Tonight was much easier emotionally, since I did not try to touch people as much. Touch is such a tricky beast. We need it so much as humans, but it is not right for everyone. In most of my jobs, I have always been told that you absolutely must ask permission before touching someone. My job history has been filled with trauma survivors, so of course this makes sense. I remember distinctly when a dear person in my life touched me and I entirely recoiled, since I was a fragile, traumatized person at the time. So I know what that feels like. And I don't want to give that feeling to people.

It seems that yoga instructors all have a different take on this issue of permission. Some do, some don't, some quietly warn you what they are about to do. I knew there was a reason I was drawn to this instructor, and I think this particular issue of permission is part of why I ended up assisting her. I'm learning a lot by watching the gentle way she assists individuals and the way she approaches touch. It's very helpful. The time she takes with each person is helpful, too. In dance class, I feel an inner Rush since I'm always wanting to answer 100 questions and linger 5 extra minutes in all our sections. So this is helpful for me to see, how class moves on in their own way while the instructor zeros in with someone for a moment. I think the lesson of 2009 in general is that breathing and slowing down actually does make me more efficient.

This was a very interesting exercise for me, following the Modern Dance class I had today. Ann had us analyze the posture of each other. I eagerly volunteered. Apparently my left hip is lower than the right, and my right torso is more forward than the left (though they wondered if that was an illusion of my zipper). My homework will be to work out the left side to try to let it lengthen and grow taller. Very strange to be analyzed like a portrait, just standing there! Analyzing other's postures was fascinating. Subtle, incredibly subtle. But you could see it after a moment, like those magic eye posters.

I am hoping to take as much of the Feldenkries workshop as possible.

For tonight, a little bedtime yoga practice before analyzing how I sleep. :)