On Music. Possibly my first truly controversial post.

I did promise music posts, right?

OK.

So, I was thinking about music (as I often do)...

I have pretty strong feelings about the use of music in dance, particularly when it comes to performing to music to which you've already seen someone else dance. I'm not talking about coincidental use of music that someone else has used, but more along the lines of "Ooh, [Insert name of Famous Dancer or Dancer on YouTube] used this song, and it's great, so I'm going to dance to it too!"

I understand that not everyone agrees with me on my beliefs about music usage. Some people believe that music, regardless of who you've seen dance to it, is fair game. I don't. (And I understand that might not be a very popular opinion, but this blog isn't for popular opinions... Hehe...)

To me, it's an issue of originality and hard work.

I believe music is so inherently part of this dance that the music to which we choose to perform is an extension of our dance and our identity.

I feel that the music a dancer chooses is a part of her because it speaks to her on an emotional level, and she has chosen to use that music to express an intimate part of her emotions and expression. That dancer's music therefore becomes a part of her physical self for that performance (and probably for longer), and she probably worked very hard to find that music, most likely sampling hundreds of songs and purchasing dozens of CDs. Learning a new song takes time and dedication. Finding music takes even more time and probably a good chunk of change.

Music is a financial and emotional investment. I feel like when a dancer performs to a song that she's seen someone else perform to on YouTube, she's not putting in the same investment into her dance that the original dancer did. I also feel that if that dancer performs similarly to the dancer who originally used that music, the dancer is selling her own creativity short by imitating someone else.

Unique music has the power to bring out unique elements of your personality, style, and expression.

There are, however, times when I don't think using "someone else's music" is a bad thing. I've determined that it's OK for you to use music someone else has used if...

• You've asked permission of the dancer using the song if it's OK if you use it as well.
  
  
• The music is ubiquitous within the community. For tribal bellydance, ubiquitous artists would be musicians like Helm, Solace, Gypsy Caravan, Raquy and the Cavemen, Maduro, Beats Antique, and Pentaphobe. As more dancers perform, more songs and artists are becoming "standards" of the genre... songs that come to mind are "Proper Hoodidge" by Amon Tobin and a recent new addition to the scene, "Ongyilkos Vasarnap" by Venetian Snares (although as recently as 2005, this song was not a tribal bellydance "standard"). (I believe that it's important to be aware of who these artists are, as many of them make music for dancers or at least with dancers in mind. Give them a little love.) For oriental and cabaret dancers, there are far more "standards" such as "Shashkin", "Alf Layla Wa Layla", "Aziza", "Mishaal", and many more.
  
  
• Your performance is VERY different from the dancer who originally danced to that particular song. This generally means that you'll be dancing a different style as the original or using different props.
  
  
• The original dancer taught a choreography to that music in a workshop and gave the students permission to perform it elsewhere with credit to the choreographer.
  

I feel like we owe it to ourselves and our community to find unique pieces of music to which to express ourselves and our dance. We owe it to ourselves because the music we choose to dance to is intrinsically linked to the movement of our bodies, and by association our own identities. We owe it to the community because every new piece of music, every new expression, helps to enrich this dance form and push it forward.

Sometimes it may seem safer to dance to music you know that another dancer has used successfully... That music is already audience-tested and approved. But you'll grow more as an artist if you take a little risk and perform to music that you've never heard anyone else use. Chances are your performance will be a little more heartfelt, and it will certainly be a unique expression of YOU as an artist and dancer.

Rhythm Resources

Some of you were interested to know where you could learn more about Middle Eastern rhythms.

• I recommend Suhaila Salimpour/Susu Pampanin's rhythm identification CD first and foremost. It's an excellent collection of Middle Eastern rhythms, and their various forms. You might also want to pick up Jamila Salimpour's finger cymbal CD, which has a ton of cymbal patterns to play along with. Both are available from Suhaila's website.
  
  


• Khafif has an amazing webpage full of drum resources, including an entire page of sound samples. There's even a section on time signatures. If you're looking for an introduction to basic Middle Eastern rhythms, this page is an excellent place to start.
  

If you just want to listen to some awesome drumming, these are some recordings I really enjoy:

• Susu Pampanim with Suhaila Salimpour: Fate


• Hossam Ramzy: Sabla Tolo


• Raquy and the Cavemen: Naked


• Ruben Van Rompeay: His Eastern Expressions series


• Jalilah's Raks Sharki, Vol. 4; Rhythm ID recording


• Suhaila Salimpour's Reflections


• Ziad Islambouli with Suhaila Salimpour: Rhythmic Journey

There's nothing like the drum... nothing at all.

Mystic Rhythms

So, this morning I, like the fangirl I am, was watching YouTube videos of my favorite rock drummer (you guessed it), Neil Peart.

(Stay with me here!)

One of the clips on YouTube is from his instructional DVD called Anatomy of a Drum Solo. He says something to the effect that one of his recent drum solos is more than just drumming, it's a tribute to the history of the drum... from African, to jazz, to rock...

And that got me thinking: Every culture has drums. And I can imagine that even before the first human stretched an animal skin across a circular frame, her fellow humans were striking stone against stone, stick against stick, using gourds as rattles, and, of course, clapping their hands together... in synchronized rhythm.

Rhythm is the glue that holds a song together, even if the time signature is constantly changing. Even songs without any actual drumming have a rhythm, a pulse.

Percussion and rhythm seem to be completely necessary for human existence. We as humans need it. We are drawn to it. We are moved by it. The beat of the drum is present everywhere. You can't go through a day of your life (unless you're a hermit) without hearing a beat somewhere. My husband and I live on a busy city street, so we hear the drum beats echoing from passing cars all the time: hip hop, reggaeton, pop, rock, and everything else in between. Right now I hear the beat of the clock... tick tick tick...

Before we are born, we hear the rhythm of our mother's heart. Bump-BUMP... bump-BUMP... bump-BUMP

When we emerge from the womb, we pound our tiny fists on our high chairs. Thump thump thumpity thump.

When we finally can hold utensils, we bang them on the table. Rat-tat-tat... rat-tat-tat...


I think each human has a personal beat. There's a rhythm and tempo that resonates with each of us, and not everyone will respond the same to the same rhythm or tempo. That resonant rhythm is the one that makes us get out of our chair and dance. Personally, I like the heavy sound of the Saidi beat, or the odd meter of the Turkish karsilama, or the frantic racing of the Amen Break heard often in drum and bass and breakcore music.

The drum is of paramount importance for bellydancers. The drum solo is a ubiquitous and exciting part of a classical bellydancer's performance. The Arabic tabla (also called darbuka, darabuka, and doumbek) is the backbone of Middle Eastern music.

The great master instructors of bellydance will always tell you, "know your rhythms. Know them by name, and be able to play them, at least at a basic level." And besides being able to communicate with a live drummer for a performance should the opportunity ever arise, there's something deeper about knowing Middle Eastern rhythms. The drum patterns of a culture ARE its culture. The Saidi rhythm with its heavy double-doum is the sound of Upper Egypt. It IS Upper Egypt. The 9/8 karsilama is the sound of the Turkish Rom. The lilting 6/8 of North Africa is North Africa. These rhythms distinguish their cultures from every other. The rhythm is the people, and the people hold these rhythms in their bodies. When you start becoming familiar with these rhythms, you are connecting to a deep history of culture and tradition. Learning these rhythms grounds you to the people whose dance you have chosen to present.

Even when we play finger cymbals when dancing, we are tapping (haha... pun!) into the great culture of the Middle East and North Africa. We become percussionists ourselves. It is our duty to not only keep the rhythm and melody of the song in our bodies but also in our cymbals. Cymbals aren't just for clinking along with the beat of the music; they are meant to enhance your dance and add depth to your and the musicians performance. They are instruments, and their playing should not be taken lightly.

So, when we dance, particularly to traditional rhythms (even when remixed into modern electronica), we should take a moment to reflect on the cultures who gave us this dance and gave us this music. Our dance should honor those traditions and pay tribute to those who have come before us... but also pave the way for future dancers to find their own personal rhythm.

Music Aesthetics

Using your music as a springboard to creating an aesthetic for a performance or several performances.

Music is the base of all of my performances.

The songs I choose help me determine the movements I use, the costuming I wear, and the mood that I convey.

Costuming:

I really believe that your costuming should reflect your music in some way. One wouldn't wear a tutu while performing an Irish step dance, so why would a fusion bellydancer wear a full out cabaret costume? If your music is fusion, your costuming needs to fuse. I know it's difficult as someone new to performing to have a costume to reflect all the different styles of music to which you might want to dance, so I find it absolutely imperative to buy or make costuming pieces that are versatile and modular, meaning that you can mix-and-match your bras, belts, cholis, and pants. I also think that too much attention is paid to costuming in the tribal fusion world, at the expense of actually dancing well, so make sure that your costuming is appropriate, but not upstaging your dance.

Dance Movement:
Of course, when I create a performance, it's based in belly dance movement. But, as the music I'm using is often not traditional, I feel it's necessary to put in some non-traditional movement. Your movements should fuse, just as your costuming should fuse. For me, as I dance to a lot of electronic music, I try to integrate into my performances robotic and "electronic-looking" movements, often based in the "popping", "locking", and "ticking" dance styles of breakdancing. I feel it is important to never lose my tribal belly dance posture or arms when executing this movements - because keeping the posture of tribal while performing popping and locking truly fuses the movements. I feel that integrating appropriate movements into my belly dance performances is the only way I can appropriately interpret the music and give the music the credit it deserves for inspiring me to want to perform to it. Of course, this applies to any style of music you choose. If a jazzy piece of music inspires you, research jazz dance, and find ways to fully fuse it with your belly dance movement. If Indian or South Asian music inspires you, look into its history and into classical Indian music. What's most important that you dance to your music as though you were dancing a tribute to the musician who created it. And remember that as belly dancers, it is our duty to become the music, whichever music you choose.

Mood:
This is perhaps one of the hardest parts about performing: how to lose yourself in the mood of the music without losing control of your dance music. I believe to be able to do this consistently well takes years of training. I've been dancing for more than eight years and I barely feel like I've gotten to a point where I can truly become the music in the way I feel I should. I think there are two issues at hand here. One is that it is very difficult to reach down inside ourselves and share our raw emotions with an audience through our dances. It takes a lot of soul-searching and courage, which can take years to feel remotely comfortable doing on a regular basis. The other issue is finding music that we NEED to dance to, rather than just finding a song that's kinda cool or fun, or something to which another dancer has already performed. Personally, I used to dance to music that I thought was just kinda cool, and my performances to those songs lacked Ooomph. But when I perform to songs that I absolutely love, then that love flows through my body and out to the audience, even if the music itself is sad or angry. Now, when I choose music, it has to make me feel a strong emotion, whether it be anger, joy, sadness, frustration, or longing. The mood the song invokes in me will then be conveyed through my movements, and with appropriate movement and costuming, I can create a complete performance.

One last note on music: Never take music for granted. An artist worked very hard to create that music, and as dancers, I believe it is our responsibility to respect the work of those artists. One of the best ways I feel I can pay tribute to a musician is dancing well to their music. And this lofty goal, of course, takes years of practice, dedication, and straight up love for both this dance and the music to which we perform.

Quite the character.

Before I go into my thoughts on the importance of music, I want to share some of my personal history with you all. I swear it's related.

When I was still figure skating, I took classes and lessons with an Armenian woman, Noemi Nargizian, who had danced with the Kirov Ballet during the Cold War. She immigrated to the United States after the Iron Curtain fell and moved to the San Francisco Bay Area, which is where I lived the first 18 years of my life, and where I spent 12 of those 18 years as a competitive figure skater. Although Noemi herself did not skate, she worked with several figure skaters to improve their presence on the ice, character development, musical interpretation, and emotional expression.

She was one of the sweetest and most giving people I have known, as well as humble and incredibly talented. She was always joyful and loved sharing her secrets of the Russian ballet with us, unknown figure skaters who had little experience in the world.

At the time I was working with her, I didn't realize how much her instruction would help me later on as a belly dancer. I still use her lessons today, both in my own performances but also in my classes.

One of the lessons I learned from her was creating a character that was true to your emotional perspective. She said that for every performance I should create a story, something close to my heart that would help me get into "that place" before taking my starting pose on the ice. It had to be something I could relate to personally, and no one else had to know what it was. I loved this concept, and I ran with it. I created a personal story for every skating performance from then on. I credit my doing so, and Noemi's loving training, with winning several awards for Artistic Expression in the competitions I entered.

When I started belly dance, I was so consumed with learning the new dance and learning how to move on a floor instead of slick frozen water, that I forgot about Noemi's wisdom.

It wasn't until 2005, when I took a Level I three-day workshop with Suhaila Salimpour that I started thinking about characters and emotional perspective again. She was talking about her Level III workshops, and how it's all about facing your demons and reaching deep inside to find deep-seated emotions. Then, a few weeks later I took a workshop with another dancer I admire greatly, Sera, from New York. She said that in your performances you have to "give your throat to the wolves". Basically, you can't be afraid to make yourself vulnerable.

At that point I realized that I had lost my perspective.

From then on, I started to approach all of my bellydance performances from a deeply personal level, creating a story behind each, something that would move me and help convey my feelings from the stage to the audience. I started creating characters which were aspects of my true self. I think this rediscovery of my emotional expression helped to elevate my performances to a new level, and helped me connect with my audiences.

If you create a character that you can't relate to, it's not going to work. You have to come from something deep in you, something that creates an immediate emotional reaction when you think about it. You have to feel it inside you, in your heart, in your whole body. For me, it starts with the music. I have to dance to music that invokes a strong emotional response. From there I spin my tale, whatever it might be...

The Sight of Music

One of the most essential elements in my performances is the music I choose. Music is what drives me to dance. After all, every style of belly dance is all about becoming the music. However, I feel like that essence somehow got lost in the bustling trend of new dancers who identify with the tribal fusion supergenre.

So... I'd like to address these subjects over the course of a few weeks or so...

1. The importance of dancing, not just performing a series of disconnected movements.
   
   
2. Loving your music.
   
   
3. Not choosing music because you heard someone else using it and you thought it was cool.
   
   
4. Using your music as a springboard to creating an aesthetic for a performance or several performances.
   
   
5. Knowing your music inside and out.
   
   
6. Not allowing yourself or others to pigeonhole you into dancing to certain styles of music.

Stay tuned...

Inspiration: Rush.

For me, the best inspiration comes from sources seemingly unrelated to dance....

I'm sitting at home, watching one of my favorite live music DVDs, Rush in Rio, (that would be Rush the band, not Rush Limbaugh) and reading writings by the band's drummer, Neil Peart, and thinking about how much this band has inspired me as an artist, as a dancer, and as a human being.

Yeah, yeah. I know what you're thinking. Rush? You mean, like "Red Barchetta" and "Tom Sawyer"? You're probably thinking it's a little dorky. Well, welcome to the world of the BDP: full of unabashed Geekiness and Dorkitude.

Often described as the "thinking man's arena rock band", they have managed to gain a worldwide following of millions of fans by doing things their way. Never following the musical trends, never giving in to pop culture or record label pressures, always making genuine and real music, they have become rock legends. They never compromised their art for the sake of making it marketable. In fact, in staying true to themselves, they found a market for their music. And what's more remarkable to me is that there are millions of people around the world who adore this band of three guys from Canada, who rarely led tabloid-worthy lives, who make music because they love making music. They also constantly strive to improve their skills, always becoming more accomplished musicians, songwriters, and artists.

Another thing I admire about them is that they always approach their art with a sense of humor. They are young at heart. They've been playing music together for 30 years, and when they're on stage it's like they're teenagers again. It's clear that music, and sharing it with so many devoted fans, brings them infinite joy and happiness.

Their music is intellectual without being pompous, technical without being inaccessible, emotional without being sappy. To me it is beautiful, genuine, and heartening.

I want to be a dancer like that.

These three guys are role models for me, and their music reminds me of the power of the individual, to believe in myself and my abilities, and to continue to strive to improve upon that which I have learned, and to never compromise my personal principles to gain a greater following.

I leave you with some writing and lyrics by Peart that I think can apply to dance, and of course, to life in general. Peart is an artist and a thinker - a combination I aspire to become myself. My notes and quote sources are square brackets. I hope that some of this inspires you in some way as well.

While searching for a capsule definition of "excellence," which is described by Robert Pirsig [author of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance - I highly recommend!] as "quality" and by Aristotle as "arete," I tentatively defined it as "doing something well enough that other people who do it admire your work," I think that nails it reasonably well - for a drummer, a bricklayer, or just a life well-lived. And certainly my own quest for excellence continues. While fully aware of all my faults, in music and in life, the eternal consolation is: "Hey, at least I'm getting BETTER!" I happily remain a "work in progress." [From Modern Drummer, October 1992]

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There is a certain trait evident in human nature which some people seem to possess in greater degrees. It derives from a state of insecurity and low self-esteem and shows itself in the actions of those who wish to make themselves look good by making others look bad. You see it everywhere once you start to look for it. People who can't gain respect for their own merits feel obliged to try and tear down those who do. We see it in the failures who try to prove their aloofness by criticizing the actions of those who actually do something... [From The Daily Texan, 1981]

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Spirits fly on dangerous missions
Imaginations on fire
Focused high on soaring ambitions
Consumed in a single desire

In the grip of a nameless possession-
A slave to the drive of obsession-
A spirit with a vision
Is a dream with a mission...
[From "Mission" on Hold Your Fire, 1987]

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Keep on looking forward
No use in looking 'round
Hold your head above the crowd
And they won't bring you down
[From "Anthem" on Fly By Night, 1975]

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I have spent my working life believing fervently in that distinction [of quality music versus music made only to sell albums], fighting to preserve it in my own work, and being offended by music calculated only to the lowest common denominator of commercial appeal — I would like to believe it makes a difference. [From a review of Daniel Levitin's This is Your Brain on Music, Bubba's Book Club, 2008]

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I'm not giving in
To security under pressure
I'm not missing out
On the promise of adventure
I'm not giving up
On implausible dreams-
Experience to extremes-
Experience to extremes
[From "The Enemy Within, Part I of Fear" on Grace Under Pressure, 1984]

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Art as expression
Not as market campaigns
Will still capture our imaginations
Given the same
State of integrity
It will surely help us along...

The most endangered species
The honest man
Will still survive annihilation
Forming a world-
State of integrity
Sensitive, open and strong
[From "Natural Science" on Permanent Waves, 1980]

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What you own is your own kingdom
What you do is your own glory
What you love is your own power
What you live is your own story
In your head is the answer
Let it guide you along
Let your heart be the anchor
And the beat of your own song
[From "Something for Nothing" on 2112, 1976]

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More excitement, less fear.
[From Roadshow, 2006]