American Raks Sharqi, Past and Present
by Zarifa Sa’id

 

An Anniversary issue seems to present a good opportunity for reviewing where we stand in the development of Raks Sharqi in the United States. I call it "American Raks Sharqi" because I believe that the American enthusiasm for this dance form has not discriminated between regional differences in presenting the dance and beyond that has borrowed freely from Western dance forms in seeking to present something interesting to American audiences. Rather than focusing here, though, on American vs. ethnic Raks Sharqi, I would focus on differences between the "early" days in the United States and the present. Many of us are often heard to lament the loss of "innocence" and of a certain energy amongst performers of this art. I’d like to explore what that means.

American interest in Raks Sharqi developed in the milieu of the early 1970s, a period of women’s exploration and growth that followed on the enthusiastic overturning of social norms and standards during the 1960s. Women sought new ways to define themselves and their relationship to men, children, society and most of all to themselves. An important part of this exploration was finding out new things about their bodies and about themselves as independent beings. Women flocked to belly dance classes, not to "Dance for Their Sultans", but to do something for themselves. The very exotic nature of the dance and its origins made it symbolic of women’s new found freedom of expression. There was a general excitement of discovery in American culture during this period and that excitement was expressed through the growing interest in Raks Sharqi.

Where are we now? The cultural milieu is very different. Rather than exploring new relationships with their bodies, women today have "been there and done that". In an era when the exotic is represented by body piercing and tatoos, belly dance does not have the power of representing the adventurous as it once did. For women today, it is more likely something their mothers, and even grandmothers, once did. And for those of us who came through the ‘70s, ‘80s and ‘90s and are still dancing, the sexual revolution and women’s liberation did not bear the fruit than we had hoped and consequently our interest in the dance is for reasons other than it being a representation of our quest for freedom. And so the "movement" or interest in studying and performing belly dance has lost the kind of energy that sustained and characterized its growth.

While I believe that point to be true, it is interesting to note that the study and performance of Raks Sharqi in the United States still has the power to transform women’s lives. In the early days, I knew of people who left bad marriages because of the self esteem gained through performing.

These days, I know of people who have found performing to be a very self affirming experience which has helped them define themselves. For most of us, performing provides an artistic outlet not found in our day to day lives. This nourishes our spirits in important ways.

So what is the motivation of students in studying belly dance? For over 20 years I have asked every introductory class the question: "What brings you to this class?" and "What is belly dance?"

In the early days, people often replied that it was "sexy", exotic and mysterious. They generally had not ever seen anyone perform it and they could not describe how it was distinguished from other dance forms except by costume, exotic music and sensuality. Nowadays, I have been surprised to find that students are in the class because they want exercise; they want to try out another dance form or they are interested in performing. Generally most students have seen Raks Sharqi performed in one form or another. And in most classes, one or more students when asked how to define belly dance will talk about isolation of movements. Thus the beginning student nowadays is more likely to appreciate Raks Sharqi as a dance art than to consider it representative of their adventurous and experimental nature.

I do miss the kind of excitement of those early days, but it was more about discovery than about the dance itself. I see some of that discovery process in my beginning students and relive it in a small way each time students have their first performing experiences. As far as the development of Raks Sharqi as an ethnic dance art, we may be better off in some ways today because the focus is more on the dance itself.

So what is different now about teaching and classes? For one thing, many more of us have traveled in the Middle East to perform, study and experience the dance in its native venue. This means we can better communicate to students about the technique, the music and the expression of the dance as it is done where it began. Secondly, in the early days there was little available on the market in the way of music. A couple of intrepid souls, George Abdu and Eddie Kochak, began producing music for the American belly dance market. Now there is almost too much to choose from, including traditional and modern Arabic music and fusion music. The music has become a rich field from which to select teaching and performance pieces. Thirdly, most of us now teach technique. That was unheard of in the early days. It took me three months in a studio practicing by myself to figure out how to do a "3/4 shimmy" walk, after seeing someone do it. In my classes, during the second week of introductory classes some of the students get it and by the eighth week most of them can do it. We’ve had years to learn and refine teaching methods, so better dancers can be developed more efficiently.

Some things haven’t changed much. There is still a stigma attached to the performance of Raks Sharqi. It is irritating, but persistent. A group of us here in Gainesville gave a show to be auctioned as a benefit for the Humane Society. A few of my students volunteered to perform one dance at the auction so that people would know what they were buying. It was a black tie occasion and I was happy to have the opportunity to show this part of society in our town what we were doing. The MC, however, took the opportunity to "have some fun", it turned out, at our expense. He opened the bidding with a comment comparing the performance to come with what was available at the notorious "nudie palace" out of town. The experience still rankles with me and it taught me that we have a ways to go to gain recognition as a serious art form. On the other hand, possibly the way in which the US was introduced to belly dance – as a part of the liberation of the late ‘60s and early ‘70s – has something to do with it continuing to represent something "naughty" to many people. Maybe in working to make belly dance legitimate, we are in some way killing the quality that lured us to it in the first place? Maybe there is a way to maintain some kind of tension between respectability and naughtiness? Or maybe not. It’s something to think about further.

 

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