Gotta love it:

"There are very few rules in Tribal Fusion, but in my humble opinion the one constant is that the dancer or group is versed in American Tribal Style as taught by Carolena Nericcio. Her stylistic approach to existing vocabulary, her theatrical approach to costuming, and the incredible invention of group improvisation, has allowed infinite variations that all have one thing in common: powerful presentation. The strength that American Tribal Style communicates through its posture, arm placement, and costuming was a revelation for me as a feminist. Without Fat Chance, I can honestly say I wouldn’t be dancing today."

-Rachel Brice
Full article after the jump

--- "Tribal Fusion Bellydance" -- on www.rachelbrice.com --

Tribal Fusion Belly Dance (or Bitter Oriental as I’ve become fond of calling it), is an ecclectic dance form that includes a multitude of influences. Belly Dance, Flamenco, Hip Hop, Jazz, Classical and other forms can be included into it’s stylistic vocabulary. Each group and even each dancer is a unique expression of the style. At this point in its life there is no real common base vocabulary , but I think it’s safe to say that every TFBD dancer is influenced by the combined vocabularies of Carolena Nericcio and Fat Chance Belly Dance, the creators of American Tribal Style, and Jamila Salmipour (Carolena’s teacher’s teacher), whether they know it or not.

The form is erroneously credited to yours truly, Rachel Brice, who merely popularized a version of it through years of intense touring with the Bellydance Superstars and the collective, The Indigo Belly Dance. The real dance heroes that created and fed my personal dance lineage: Jamila Salimpour taught John Compton and Masha Archer, who taught Carolena Nericcio, who who taught Jill Parker, who taught Heather Stants, who taught Mardi Love, who all taught me. Also hugely instrumental to the style is Suhaila Salimpour, Jamila’s daughter, whose ground-breaking approach to Belly Dance is largely responsible for the technique of most Tribal Fusion Belly Dancers.

There are very few rules in Tribal Fusion, but in my humble opinion the one constant is that the dancer or group is versed in American Tribal Style as taught by Carolena Nericcio. Her stylistic approach to existing vocabulary, her theatrical approach to costuming, and the incredible invention of group improvisation, has allowed infinite variations that all have one thing in common: powerful presentation. The strength that American Tribal Style communicates through its posture, arm placement, and costuming was a revelation for me as a feminist. Without Fat Chance, I can honestly say I wouldn’t be dancing today.

There is a huge list of other artists: costumers, musicians, actors, photographers, etc. that have influenced the style, and I’ll try to cover most of them here. If I can take credit for anything, it would be a love of teaching and learning, and an obsession with collages. Heather Stants credits me as the “adoptive mother” of the form, which, now adopted by thousands, continues to grow and change, and each year brings a new level of creativity, excitement, physicality, and beauty to our community.

Einstein jokingly said: “The secret to creativity is knowing how to hide your sources.” Well, Einey, for me, the secret to creativity and a happy heart can be found in discovering new work, supporting other artists by sharing their work with others, cultivating curiosity, and infectious enthusiasm.


http://www.rachelbrice.com/"

Local dance legend, Delilah, posted this thought-provoking question to a local discussion group not too long ago, which I thought I would share with you, along with my lengthy answer. I am curious if you are experiencing similar "issues" in your dance world, and if so, what your thoughts on it is.

"Thoughts:

I have been getting a lot of calls e mails, comments in conversation about the spark being lost in belly dance these days. Here is a quote from one dancer I got 2 days ago.

"I have been a bit out of touch with belly dance. Belly dance had served its initial purpose, and yet I was beginning to lose interest in it entirely. I guess I feel that what I see today in its representation is a lack of substance - it's not spiritually fulfilling for me. I have nearly lost the desire to even watch others perform. "

I get constant calls from all over the country about dancers being let down by the Belly Dance Super Stars. These comments come from new dancers, long time hobbyists, professional performers and instructors, and our moms. With a name like that I guess come expectations. Not that they aren't beautiful and graceful But these women describe a flat presentation of something that means so much to women's lives. It's being reduced to a Las Vegas female objectification and what color will she wear next.

The women I've been talking to are saying , they want more! I am frankly very inspired that women are aware enough to articulate this (when commercial machinery is so powerful against the consumer). Personally the belly dance Super Stars do not embarrass me in any way. The show is PC and well rehearsed. However if I was the director with that budget I would do it much differently.

I ask you all. What would YOU do differently?
How can we bring back the qualities that deeply inspire us?

Delilah"

My response after the jump...
Excellent question and topic for discussion, Delilah. Thanks for bringing it up.

I think it's not just the presentation of bellydance that has changed (a la BDSS), but also the teaching of it has changed so much. Does anyone else feel like so much of bellydance marketing today, in workshops and videos, boils down to "I am gonna KICK YOUR ASS in this workshop!"? It feels like a lot of the focus of bellydancing, at least in the circles I travel in, is on a boot camp workout and uber-complex-layering-technique-as-highest-priority. It has become "the more layers and tricks I can add the better", while somewhat ignoring personal expression, connection with our audiences, and if dancing with fellow dancers, connection and communication with each other.


With the increase in the claim of unique "formats" and "certifications", it gives one the impression that bellydance is a formulaic, scientific study where if one just follows the recipe, they can dance.
Don't get me wrong, I think the increase in attention to technique, and the proliferation of mentorships where teachers are taking very public responsibility for the students they are producing is a good step for the overall growth and improvement of bellydance as a respected performance art (though in my opinion not all certifications carry equal substance to back up the paper--a discussion for another time). But it's not all there is...

I feel this boom of "technique-centric" was in response to a really important need in the community to increase our awareness of what comprises strong and safe technique, and to help us understand what we are seeing in ourselves and in other performances--why did we think she was a good dancer, or conversely why do we think that performance was weak? Being able to identify strong technique, and employ it in our dance and performance is important. But it's not all there is! Technique is a tool to reach something a little more difficult to describe, and yet natural to attain if we really focus on it: grace, beauty, connection, energy, emotion, personal expression...THE ART of it!


We always parrot on about comparing where bellydance is in the world compared to Western forms of dance, such as ballet or jazz. We talk about all the technique they learn, how difficult it is, what a commitment it is. And that's true. But two key points seem to be ignored:

1) They also learn expression--what story their faces and bodies tell is trained into them as well. They often also take acting classes alongside their dance to be better at that aspect of performing. Yes, it is so much dance technique, but it is not purely technical execution. And

2) Do we really want bellydance to become just like those dance forms? Isn't part of what we love about bellydance, and what it brings to our lives, is what was lacking in other dance forms at our disposal? I know it was for me! I studied jazz, ballet, and modern, and nothing weaved its fingers into my heart quite so much as bellydance. There is a reason for that--there are aspects to bellydance which nurture us in ways other dance forms don't. And that is what is somewhat being lost today, in my opinion.

I feel like we have lost sight of the yin to our yang. The pendulum has swung so hard in the direction of methodical, mathematical, technical, manufactured, competitive, individual approach; and away from the artistic, nurturing, connecting, heart-felt, sincere, spirit-centered approach. Of course this is a vast generalization, and is also my personal opinion from my experiences in recent years. Your mileage may vary.


Locally, I feel like we have lost a lot of the "community" in our community. We keep holding events, but they seem primarily designed around a) for-pay workshops or b) performances; and everyone seems to largely draw their own students and friends. Neither of these kinds of gatherings fully creates a chance to connect and interact with one another. As a result, there isn't so much cross-pollination as there used to be. Something changes when we interact with one another face-to-face. We respect one another more when we more often look one another in the eye, and interact in person. We feel more connected and responsible for one another.

Within my own hands, I feel guilty at how little I have been able to facilitate community in the past couple of years. Ever since my back injury several years back which had me not able to dance for months, and pain with which I am still affected, my energy has shifted so internally to self-preserve, and I have neglected the needs of my students, my dance family, and the community at large for opportunities to connect around the dance in unique ways. This was a very high priority for me, and anyone who knows me can attest, bringing people together is something I love dearly to do. My video nights and The Gathering open dance circles fell to the wayside. Drum circles on the beach used to be a favorite opportunity to hang out, dance, laugh, chat that we looked forward to every summer--Delilah remember you and Erik coming to play with us back then? I loved seeing you guys there and getting to jam and connect. And our troupe putting on haflas also faded away. Man, those are some great memories for me!

And now with a combination of national apathy and financial difficulty, what attempts to connect us which remain are often not well attended. Which further discourages those of our community left who are rallying to keep us coming together. Delilah, you are one of those who is so great at creating opportunities for dancers of all styles and focuses to come together around unique and interesting topics and events. I feel like you are one who is continuing to do the work so many of us have not been doing, or failing in our attempts to do. I know you, too, have been suffering with lower attendance; and financially being a studio owner must also be a struggle. But you keep plugging away, and for that I personally am grateful to you for all your energy you pour into it.



Thanks Delilah, for asking this very thought-provoking question."


I am reminding myself that I don't need to leap  back in to every detail from day one. I remember when I first began teaching, and when I told Paulette that what was most important to me was building a community around the dance. That was what I admired so much in her, and what I wanted in Seattle. So that will be my mantra, my focus as we return to class this week. I want to teach strong technique and nurture confident and skilled dancers, but most of all, I want them to enjoy one another in the process, and share in each other's growth over the days, months, and years they are with me ..and beyond.

Seems I am not alone in my feeling the need to hibernate my dance a little bit. Paulette's latest newsletter came out today, and here is a snippet:

"Now I need to take a little more private time for myself.  I have decided to take a year’s sabbatical from performing, and some teaching. I, too, need time to feed my soul, to process, and to find out where I am in the dance now. I do know that I love to teach, and therefore I have a few select teaching engagements in the next year, which I am excited about... 

But I cannot go on full force like I have been, and continue my life on the farm with my husband and my adorable menagerie, and also run my fabulous new shop, Cultivator General Store. I need to take time to find out what my next dance steps are...


My amazing troupe, the Gypsy Caravan Dance Company, will be on hiatus as well, with the other dancers off to their own adventures for now. My dancer/student/friends, the Caravan Dance Collective, will continue on without me in some shape of a troupe, to their choosing, while I take my time on my private journey. I am thankful for their support with my decision. And who know where I will end up?"

Read the full newsletter HERE.  Scroll near the bottom to see this portion.

Paulette, I wish you well on your road through these questions, and hope you find answers that fulfill your heart and soul. (And I know I still owe you a visit, Momma. *mwah*) The journey continues...

I am coming back off my dance hiatus this week, and in addition to lots and lots of dreams in the weeks leading up to the day--some anxiety, some hope-filled--one theme keeps running around in my head: the idea of your profession being something you do versus something which defines who you are.

When people ask what I do for a living I have long said "I am a bellydance teacher and performer." When I think about it, I can see that I am answering a question that wasn't asked. Isn't this a response we all give equally casually?

The former is an action or a behavior, and the latter is a statement of self-definition. (As an aside,  I wonder if the language changes if you are doing something you don't enjoy... like do you say "I am a burger flipper" or do you say "I flip burgers", or whatever stereotypically hated job you want to insert in there? )  What I keep wondering these past few weeks is am I a bellydancer, or am I many many other things as well, complex and simple, and bellydance is simply something I do? Do I sincerely feel that "I am a bellydancer" is the most accurate way to respond to the question?

 When  my mind wanders in this direction, I remember a moment I have kept close to my heart for years. At Tribal Fest 2004, I believe it was, I was taking time away from my booth to get a glass of wine. Running the drink table was a small grey haired woman with a sweet smile and easy manner, and we struck up a conversation. She revealed that at 70-something, she was going back to college to get her AA. I remarked how incredible that was, and she agreed, but that she was really hating having to do math again, which we laughed about in agreement. I asked her if she was a bellydancer, and she said no, she just lived nearby and heard they needed help and she thought it would be fun to see the show and meet people and lend a hand.  She then went on to share that she has never liked being just one thing at a time. That all her life she has done whatever felt good or right at the time, and had moved through many different professions as it suited. She liked that she was never just one thing, but always had opportunities to explore so many different jobs, people, and avenues of expression. And that she planned to do just that until the day she died.

I can still see her face so clearly in my mind as she told me this--how happy she looked, and how unapologetic she was that she had never "settled down" into one way of life. She stated her fluid nature as a strength and a pride. She was so vibrant, and her philosophy so inspirational to me in that moment, that it has stuck with me and percolated inside my soul ever since. 

When I stepped away from the dance to take my hiatus, and all the issues that swirled around that choice and change, I asked myself if I was ever going to come back to the dance. And even entertaining that thought in passing felt like a punch in the gut and a tearing at my heart. I love teaching dance, I believe in what I do, and I am good at it. How could I possibly consider not teaching or performing bellydance any more? That is who I AM.  And the unintended pressure came from well-meaning friends and loved ones as well, who reeled at the mere suggestion I may not dance or teach again. After all, they said, that is WHO everyone knows me to BE.  Can you imagine the weight of that attitude as it pressed down on me, from within and without? The feeling that I was somehow trapped insinuated itself into my mind--that I was locked onto one path, that I had to bellydance, or else who was I?  That I would be confusing people who knew me as a dancer, and worse yet that I would be letting people down. What a burden it felt like. And I began to resent the idea of coming back to dance at all.

That thing I loved had become an evil "other" that encompassed an ocean of expectations and requirements in order to simply be myself, without which I was nothing.

So I railed against going back. I brushed up my resume and started casually job hunting, looking for anything that sparked my interest, irrespective of the details of time or finances.  I tried to explain to my loved ones that I wanted to take time to see who I was, rather than be defined by what I do. That there were so many interests I had which were placed on a permanent back-burner over the years because I had so much of my energy--my being, if you will--channeled in one direction. For all I know, I could be a fantastic photographer, or my graphic design work may grow by leaps and bounds if I gave it more dedicated attention, or what about going back to the theater I loved so much, or any number of other "side interests" I have not been able to nurture because I couldn't take my eyes off the road in front of me.  But this idea of being more malleable in our definition of self and profession, and less single-focused, is not a popular one in our culture. The prevailing attitude is that certainly at 35 you are supposed to know "who you are", which we define almost entirely by our careers (or children). To tell people you don't want to be just one thing any more, especially when they are familiar and comfortable with that definition of you, really sends them into a tailspin. They were trying to be supportive by encouraging me to not "give up" on the dance, but it only made me despair even more that I would never get out of these handcuffs of "bellydancer".

My Mom was one helpful voice among the many. She encouraged me to take the time away to explore other opportunities, and let the dance come back to me, so to speak, rather than rushing back to it for the wrong reasons.  She didn't seem the least bit alarmed or concerned at my confession that I wasn't sure if I would return to teaching.

And I realize it is because she is my Mom (duh), and she doesn't see me as only one thing or another. She sees me as her daughter, first and foremost, and she simply wants me to be happy.  

Not that my other friends and family didn't want me to be happy, but that in their minds, I had been so completely fulfilled as a dancer, it worried them to imagine me trying to find that someplace else, and risk losing that joy they saw in me in the bargain.

I was just getting used to the idea of maybe taking a more extended hiatus (after all, my foot is still an issue, and I need to get that surgery--can't go into releve at all right now), and possibly never coming back at all, when hubby piped up with another pearl of wisdom.  In a nutshell, he pointed out that a lot of shit came down the pike around when I took time off from dancing, and if I took time off from dance now, and perhaps never returned, I may always wonder later in life if I left because it was truly time to move in new directions, or because I was trying to escape all the difficulty and sadness that happened to overlap with my time off. He said that when and if I decide I want to explore other avenues of expression and leave bellydance behind, he completely supports me, but that I should try to do it cleanly and without all the baggage that is tied to it right now in my heart, so that I am not left with potential "what ifs" and regrets.

He is so wise.

So I started to get my new website together, contacted the community center to set up my schedule for the fall, and sent out my class newsletter. Getting back into the swing feels strange...feels so different than before. It seems like I have been away longer than I actually have. I feel a little less steady. Honestly, while there are many things about going back to teach this week that I am looking forward to, I still feel a little trepidatious, like I am coming back to the dance before the dance has come back to me. But maybe, just maybe, it is waiting for me to meet it halfway. And once I show up at our designated meeting spot (not the top of the Empire State Building, too cliche), the dance will leap from its hiding spot with a big bouquet of flowers and colorful balloons and throw its arms around me and welcome me back. And I will fall into those arms and feel like I have come home. Maybe.

But one thing I feel very confident of. That for now, I want to be clear that I do this, and not completely am this. I don't want to put all my eggs in this one basket, or limit myself to one path for my energies. I want to be invested, but also able to let go, and not feel like I am losing my fundamental self.

Last spring I read this quote on Zen Habits, and it is so perfectly perfect, it sums up everything I have been thinking so neatly:

Define yourself in fluid terms. We are all constantly evolving and growing. Define yourself in terms that can withstand change. Defining yourself by possessions, roles, and relationships breeds attachment because loss entails losing not just what you have, but also who you are.

Yeah, what she said.

Thanks, Dance Advantage!

http://danceadvantage.net/2009/02/08/7-secrets-of-super-performers/