What's in a Name: Vestiges of
Cultural Imperialism?
by Zarifa Sa'id
This article first appeared in and is
copyrighted by The Caravan Magazine, reprinted in its
entirety by permission. Subscriptions to The Caravan Magazine can be
obtained through email: caravan@avana.net
or visit the Caravan Magazine website.
What is in a name, one
wonders. Proponents of naming Raqs Sharqi dance steps cite a general
confusion and lack of standards for Raqs Sharqi as performed in the U.
S. that would be solved by creating and agreeing upon names for steps.
Having names would make it easier to teach because we would all know
what movement a particular name referred to and by extension have some
idea as to the correct way to perform that step. A correct way would
have to be specified or how would one know whether in fact the step
being performed is the one to which the name refers. How pleasant to
have it all organized for us. Indeed this seems straightforward.
Unfortunately, some niggling
doubts chew away in the back of my mind. How did many centuries worth
of performers - and this dance has been performed by generations of
dancers, passed down through families, and even taught in
choreographies - manage without names? Has anyone considered that
there is a reflection of a culture in this lack of names? The very
people who created, nurtured and perform this dance do so without
reference to names. And many of those performers and teachers in the
20th Century have taken full advantage of Western dance training. So
they know that in Western dance movements have names. In other words,
Raqs Sharqi movements remain nameless not through the
"ignorance" of the native performers, but through their
desire that it be so. Either they don't want names or they are
unconcerned by the lack of names.
If this is the case, then
what does it mean that we in the U.S. feel we have to force the issue
and insist that steps be named. There is something faintly
paternalistic in our efforts to standardize and Westernize Raqs
Sharqi. It's as though we think something is missing...something which
we can supply. It's reminiscent of early anthropological tracts by
Western scholars on native religions, social systems, kinship
patterns, and so forth which characterized them as
"primitive". As more data was collected and as our own
systems of inquiry matured, we recognized that there was a lot of
value which had been overlooked in native systems. Kinship systems
which seemed bizarre were shown to be complex systems for organizing
and ordering human relationships. Might it not be useful to consider
what we might be overlooking in the cultural system for transmitting
dance movements and patterns without naming them? Rather than a major
inconvenience sustained by a culture that we secretly characterize as
disorganized and backwards, possibly there is something positive here.
I am reminded of an
observation made by a friend of mine at a workshop taught by Nadia
Hamdi. Nadia teaches in the "follow me" style which is as
frustrating for Westerners as is the lack of names. Shakira of Ohio
pointed out, however, that by not defining technique Nadia left people
to find their own interpretations for what she was teaching. This is
not to say that she was unconcerned with technique. She watched the
class and, in finding something that seemed to be difficult, would
focus on demonstrating that step until most people had it to her
satisfaction. Still, there was a freedom in following that is not
duplicated in our technique classes. People danced with joy if not
precision...but that joy is the point and it is communicable through
performing. It is often difficult for the Western student to make the
transition from doing steps correctly to dancing with joy. This is not
to argue for ignoring technique, but it is to recognize that there are
many paths to education.
And so it is with names.
There is a freedom that exists in not defining things and that freedom
nurtures creativity and individuality. Individuality is one of the
hallmarks of Raqs Sharqi. It is one of the reasons that is so
difficult to define an "Egyptian" style. Every dancer is
unique in her repertoire of movements and in her styling. This is in
part due to the lack of names and standardization of movement
technique. Furthermore, individuality is desirable. So in imposing
names are we doing violation to that which we seek to preserve? And
are we guilty of a kind of subtle cultural imperialism that seeks to
force the transmission of another culture's dance expression into
modes of transmission that suit us?
I can't resist considering a
different example. In Japan there is a real passion for American
Square Dance. The thought seems "off" to me, but probably no
more "off" than Westerners performing Raqs Sharqi. Consider
how we would feel if the Japanese enthusiasts of Square Dance felt
that they should rename the steps into something more compatible to
their understanding. Wouldn't it seem not only strange, but
patronizing. And wouldn't we see it as an infringement on
"our" form of artistic expression.
On the other Hand, I am a
Western person. And as such feel more comfortable with order and
structure. I'm frustrated when a student, trying to commit a step to
memory asks for a name. And so I use names...names that have evolved
among Western dance teachers and students of Raqs Sharqi over the last
twenty-plus years. We don't all use the same names, but many of them
are similar. We also don't all agree on technique for those steps, but
most of us teach technique that has also evolved to teach Westerners
an art form from another culture. So we have names and we have
technique, we just don't all agree on everything. Again this seems
simple, but let me examine an case in point.
Let us consider a vertical
figure eight, down. Many people will recognize this as a
"Maya". I've called the movement a "Maya" for
years, but am working to move away from people names for steps towards
names that describe the movement as best I can. There is at least one
major area of disagreement on the proper technique for this step. I
was recently in a workshop where there were two master teachers - both
very accomplished. One taught the movement with the heels lifting to
assist the hip movement; the other taught that the heels should remain
on the floor so that the muscles alone produce the hip movement. I
happen to be an advocate of the second method, as I think the muscle
tension produces a more focused, intense movement than generally
occurs when the heels are lifted. Consequently, my fear would be that
those people who teach the former method would be in charge of
choosing names and defining technique. Therein lies the problem which
is the tip of the iceberg of naming names. Who is going to decide
which name is evocative of a movement and who is going to define
proper technique?
In addition to fearing that
the "wrong" persons would be in charge, there is the
individuality and creativity issue. I would fight to defend their
right to be "wrong". Likewise, I insist on my right be
"wrong" or at least different if I choose. I am, therefore,
mainly concerned that our search for structure and organization will
greatly constrict our freedom of interpretation, especially in
directions that I might not choose.
And finally, names are not
the problem. I think that the desire to name steps comes from a desire
for this art form as we practice it in this country be respected as
meeting professional dance standards. There is also a desire that
there be standards to provide a goal for students and to provide a
measure for those of us who wish to be considered
"professional". I think this lack of professionalism,
however, is something of a myth. There are many professionals in our
business and there are many amateurs who uphold professional
standards. I think we confuse the performances at workshop shows as
being intended to be "professional" when actually they mix
students and hobbyists with professional level dancers. Workshop shows
and most other venues available for Raqs Sharqi are more similar to
neighborhood theatre than they are to professional theatre. Just as
the lower standard of performance in neighborhood theatre does not
imply a lack of standards for the profession of acting, the lower
standards for performance of Raqs Sharqi witnessed in many venues does
not imply a lack of standards for Raqs Sharqi. The fact that there are
so few professional level shows is due to the lack of market for those
shows. We need in this business to put energy into developing public
interest and creating a market so that people will have the time and
resources necessary to become professional. Creating names and
specifying standards will not solve the problem of lack of
professionalism in the teaching and presentation of our art form. Lack
of knowledge is not so much the problem as lack of resources to pursue
knowledge. The lack of resources is directly attributable to a lack of
market caused by a general public disinterest in ethnic dance arts.
Wouldn't it make sense,
instead of beating up on ourselves for not being professional, to put
some energy into thinking about how we can develop an interest and a
market for ethnic dance arts? In some way, then, the effort to name
names can be seen as a diversion from the main problem that faces us.
Maybe we should create a forum for discussing ways to develop a
market. Any thoughts on that?
Send email to Zarifa Sa'id
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