Opeth. Best known for being a Swedish death metal band who has had one foot firmly planted in the world of modern progressive rock for quite some time.   But their most recent album, Heritage, is not death metal. At all. And they didn’t play any songs with growling death metal vocals at their absolutely stunning live show here in San Francisco.  Heritage is a tribute to the bands’ influences, to metal and progressive rock of the 1970s, but with a personal, modern, and truly unique approach.  It blends classic heavy metal with quiet acoustic interludes and even a Swedish folk song played in a jazz style.

What makes Heritage so brilliant, though, really?

One:  It is not a hackneyed attempt to revive the musical trends of the past. It is a showcase of technical and emotional musicianship and a clear understanding of the music that paved the way for bands like Opeth to form and gain worldwide fame.  These five men are masters of their art, tip their hats to the past, and make emotional songs.  There is a fresh passion in their work, even as it references sounds from nearly 40 years ago…. and music even older than that in their reinventions of Swedish folk melodies.

Two: The lead singer makes no apologizes for any changes in the band’s musical style.  Ever.  In fact, he says that if someone doesn’t like it, they can fuck off.  Death metalheads lament the lack of RAWR in the recent album and tour setlist, but Opeth stands firmly by their creative decision to showcase more mellow and melodic songs from their already diverse repertoire.

Honor the past.  Know your roots. Be a master of your instrument (whether that’s your paintbrushes, your guitar, your words, or your body). Create honest art.  Stand by your creative decisions.

Wise lessons to live by, I’d say.

I hear this all the time.  Honestly, every time I hear it, my heart breaks a little.  It’s a bit like hearing, “I’m a ballerina, but I don’t like classical music.”  Or, “I’m a jazz dancer, but I don’t like Duke Ellington.”  You can be sure that a ballerina who hates classical music has learned to love it, or at least like it.  She’s going to be dancing to it nearly EVERY DAY.

Maybe this all-too-common sentiment makes me sad because I do love Middle Eastern music.  I admit that I don’t love all of it, but who loves everything in a particular genre or style of music?

But I wonder, why would you self-identify as a belly dancer if you don’t like dancing to Middle Eastern music?  It’s one thing to experiment with non-Middle Eastern music.  It’s another to eschew it completely from your performance repertoire or to say that you dislike all of it.  If you’re not dancing to Middle Eastern music, I really don’t think you can call yourself a belly dancer.  There.  I said it.

Belly dance is inherently Middle Eastern.  Whether it’s Turkish oryantal, Egyptian folkloric, Lebanese-style cabaret, Moroccan Shikhat: It’s all Middle Eastern.*  One might argue that belly dance as a genre is at a developmental crossroads, with Westernized belly dance being one branch of its evolution and Middle Eastern belly dance being the other branch.  I don’t think that we’re quite to that point, nor do I think that this argument (or any argument) is an excuse that allows for ignorance or dismissal of the historical and regional roots of this dance.

As Westerners (I’m an American, and many of my readers are also non-Middle Eastern), we are intuitively drawn to music from our own culture.  This makes complete sense.  (You all know that I’ve danced to crazy breakcore, arty electronica, and progressive rock–all of which are not at all Middle Eastern. But I’ve also danced to medieval Arabic muwashahat, Egyptian taqsasim, and drum solos)  We want to dance to music that moves us, and rightfully so.  We want to be able to give an honest performance to music that speaks to our hearts and souls.

I also think (and I do hear this quite a bit) that many of us are afraid that we won’t be able to do Middle Eastern music justice.  That somehow, because we’re not experts on how they dance “over there”, we’ll disrespect the music and the culture.  That we’ll misinterpret the song and do something offensive and uncouth. I know that I feel this way sometimes…  BUT: If you research the song’s meaning and history, and you go into your new choreography with awareness and understanding, you won’t be disrespecting the song or its mother culture.

I’ll recount a little anecdote from a Level III workshop I attended with Suhaila Salimpour a while back.  Before the workshop, we were required to create a work-in-progress choreography, using the feet and body placement only.  No belly dance moves, no hip work, no arms.  Just feet.  One incredibly talented student had completed the assignment using a French tango of sorts: slow, languid, and sexy.  Suhaila said, “OK, your choreography is lovely, but this isn’t Middle Eastern music.  The assignment was to choreograph to Middle Eastern music.”  She then asked this student, and the rest of the class, what sort of Middle Eastern music would have the same sentiment as this non-Middle Eastern piece that the student had selected.  Many of us answered that a nice chiftetelli would work, but then Suhaila said to the student, “Actually, while a chiftetelli would work, this needs to be a debke.  A really HOT debke.  Go find a debke song and come back tomorrow with the SAME choreography, but to the debke.”  The student was skeptical, but completed the assignment, performed the same choreography to the new song the next day, and DAMN if that wasn’t the HOTTEST fricking debke I had ever seen!  It was “Village Girls Gone Wild”, and it was astoundingly brilliant.

I learned a lot as I observed this dancer complete this assignment:

• You can use Middle Eastern music and put your own sentiment into it.
• The movements you put to Middle Eastern music don’t necessarily have to be what they do “over there”.
• You can learn to love the music if your choreography and emotional perspective are precise and clear.
• You won’t be disrespecting the music if you choreograph outside the traditional “box.” (In fact, you’ll probably be even more creative in the process!)

If we are to continue to call ourselves “belly dancers” we must absolutely know how to perform to Middle Eastern music, and… we must learn to love at least some of the music from that region of the world.  Chances are that we won’t love all of it, and that’s fine!  I admit that I just don’t love Arabic pop, and shaabi music just gets on my nerves.  I’m not a big fan of most of the “made for Egyptian bellydance” compositions (frankly, to me, they often lack emotion and start to sound all the same!).  But I love Umm Kalthoum.  I love a good drum solo.  I love a beautiful ‘ud taqsim.

If you all were my students, I would give you an assignment:

Find a song you like.  ANY song, regardless of regional origin.  Choreograph 16 counts of 8 (or equivalent) to that song. THEN find a Middle Eastern song that has a similar sentiment or feeling.  Take your choreography and set it into the Middle Eastern song without changing any of the steps.  Does it work?  What would you change?  What would you keep?  What did you learn in the process?

I am pretty sure that there will be a style of Middle Eastern music that will speak to you, too, but maybe you just haven’t found it yet.   Take the time to explore the many styles of the region’s music, and don’t limit yourself only to recordings that are labeled “Belly Dance”.  Middle Eastern music is more than just belly dance music.  It is rich, varied, and it can be hauntingly beautiful.  Saying, “I don’t like Middle Eastern music” is like saying, “I don’t like Western music.”  There is SO MUCH variety in one region’s musical landscape.  And if you find a song that does speak to you, and you dance to it from your heart, you won’t be disrespecting it or the culture.  I promise.  As non-Middle Easterners, we have to take some of our own culture with us into our choreographies and performances.  How could we not?  But we must also respect and research and honor the region’s history and arts.  And, I am absolutely not saying that you have to dance to Middle Eastern music all the time; but being able to enjoy doing so is something I hope that every belly dancer can and will do in the course of her creative journey.

*I like to include North Africa–Morocco, Tunisia, Libya, and Algeria–in with the Middle East region because of the similarity of customs, language, and culture.

OK, tribal and fusion dancers. I know we generally don’t dance to classic Middle Eastern music, but we should know these recordings and know them well. We should also be able to dance to them, should the opportunity arise. If you haven’t yet invested in a few good oriental music recordings, now is better than later. It’s a part of your education as a bellydancer. In my opinion, if you’ve been dancing for over a year there are no excuses for not knowing most of these songs. There’s also a reason these songs are essential: They’re damn good.

The songs with links to translations if available.  Hardly a complete list:

• Alf Layla Wa Layla (A Thousand and One Nights)
• Aziza
• Habibi Ya Ayni (My Sweetheart, My Eye)
• Enta Omri (You Are My Life) Sometimes transliterated as “Inta Omri”.
• Lama Bada Yata Sana (When She Begins to Sway)
• Laylat Hob (Love Night)
• Lissa Fakir (Do You Remember?)
• Mashaal
• Mastika – Turkish Karsilama
• Rompi Rompi - Turkish Karsilama
• Salam Alay (She Greeted Me)
• Sawwa (Vagabond)
• Set al Hosen
• Tamer Henna (Henna Flower)
• Zay al Hawa (Like the Wind)
• Zayna (Zaina, or Zeina)

Where do I find this music?

• Bellydance Superstars Volume 1
• Suhaila’s Surpreme Selections
• Jalilah’s Raks Sharki Volume 1.
• Jalilah’s Raks Sharki Volume 3.
• Jalilah’s Raks Sharki Volume 5. I love this recording.
• Masters of Bellydance Music Volume 1 and Volume 2

Please, dear fusion dancers, give these songs and these recordings a chance.  Not knowing these songs and not respecting them is like disowning yourself from your family.  And, who knows… you might find yourself loving some of these songs.

Recently tribal fusion bellydancers have adopted a new kind of “vintage” look, using costuming elements inspired by the late 1800s to early 1900s, incorporating lace, ruffles, frilly skirts, and “Granny” boots.  This style also incorporates the use of Balkan Romany (Gypsy) music, carnival and circus themes, as well as Vaudeville and sometimes burlesque.  This trend is everywhere in tribal fusion right now, not only in the United States, but it appears that it has made its way to Europe and beyond.  And, I have to say, that I wonder if this new style that has taken the tribal fusion dance world by storm is even tribal style anymore.  And what are we conveying to the general public and those who know nothing about bellydance through the use of these vintage elements?

On my travels I’ve seen several troupes attempting this “vintage fusion” style of bellydance… but they’re incorporating props and costuming that I find somewhat inappropriate in a bellydance, particularly a “tribal” bellydance, context.  I wonder if these troupes and dancers have reflected on their choreographies, or prop, costuming, and music choices, and have they considered what someone completely ignorant about bellydance (especially tribal) might think of our dance style as a whole after seeing one of their “vintage fusion” performances.

I’d like to caveat this post by saying that when done well, “vintage tribal fusion” is beautiful and captivating.  There are several troupes who perform “vintage tribal fusion” elegantly and professionally.  The Indigo, Zafira Dance Company, Delirium Tribal Bellydance Company, and the Mezmer Society/Onça all pull in vintage and antique elements into their costuming, music, and dance artfully and tastefully.  I also like to break out ruffles and lace once in a while.  I have nothing against what I call “vintage fusion” tribal bellydance.

Aspects of “vintage fusion” that strike me as odd…

One element that I’ve seen often is the use of wine and whiskey bottles, sometimes empty… sometimes not.  Now, I have nothing against having a drink.  What does bother me, though, is when dancers, especially inexperienced ones, are on stage pretending to (or actually) getting drunk and stumbling around on stage.  From what I have observed, only very experienced and serious dancers can really pull off the use of wine bottles and alcohol in their performances.  It takes a certain amount of technical and performance skill to be able to pull that off without looking like a fool.  Otherwise the performance can look haphazard, lazy, and unprofessional.

Another element that I find a little bit odd is the wearing of undergarments on the outside as part of the costuming itself, such as frilly panties and bustiers.  Maybe I’m “old school”, but my mentors told me that even though our costuming might be revealing at times, we should never wear anything that still looks like underwear.  It seems to me that the resurgent interest in burlesque has influenced this trend, and I have nothing against burlesque… but I often wonder what someone new to bellydance might think if they saw a troupe in underwear-like costuming.  They’d probably wonder, “what does this have to do with the Middle East, and what does it have to do with bellydance?”  If I didn’t know anything about bellydance except that it’s something I’d seen at a Middle Eastern restaurant, I would probably be very, very, confused.

Something else I’ve noticed amongst the less successful attempts at “vintage” style bellydance performances is that there has been more emphasis on the comedy, acting, and slapstick than the dancing itself.  Again, I have nothing against theater or comedy… but if you’re going to call yourself a tribal style bellydancer, please make tribal style bellydance the primary element of your performance. The playful, flirty quality often found in “vintage fusion” isn’t very tribal, if we’re using American Tribal Style bellydance as our standard of what defines Tribal style bellydance.  Posing and being cute with a wine bottle isn’t tribal, and it’s not bellydancing.  Dance first… then add the theater once you have a good foundation in bellydance. So, if you’re going to play with “vintage fusion” bellydance, be aware that what you are doing might not be tribal anymore.  It might be something entirely new and different.  And please focus on the dance first.

From the point of view of the outsider…

What if someone from the general public came to see one of these performances?  What if this person knew nothing about bellydance?  Do we want to give the general public the impression that we’re only comic relief and slapstick acts that have no qualms about showing our frilly panties to strangers, particularly as we lose (or pretend to lose) our inhibitions through the imbibing of alcohol on stage?  Is that bellydance, and, more importantly to me, is that tribal?  And, I know that many of us bellydancers are trying very hard to elevate this dance into the realms of both popular and high art… and in order for that to happen, we must earn the respect of not only our peers but also the general public.  How do we expect to be respected as an art form when we’re stumbling around on stage in our underwear?

The importance of training and self-reflection.

As an artist and dancer I’m not against experimentation and pushing the boundaries of bellydance.  I have been fusing bellydance with other dance and movement influence for years.  I am, however, passionate about fusion with integrity. What that means to me is that in order for your artistic experimentation to be successful, you must spend time in the studio training, drilling, and focusing on the dance.  If you want to continue to call yourself a tribal style bellydancer, you must make your primary focus tribal style bellydance, not acting, slapstick, comedy, costuming, props, or music.  Also, as you’re preparing a performance, take the time to reflect on it and ask yourself, “What message am I giving the audience by dancing to this music in this costume with these movements?  Is that something I want to convey?  Why am I putting these influences together in the way that I am?”  It’s also completely acceptable to have a good time on stage.  So much of why we dance is because we find joy in it, but there is much joy to be found in the dancing itself, and you don’t need a frilly costume and a bottle of wine to enjoy it.

Cabaret, oriental, and folkloric bellydance instructors make it clear to their students the importance of knowing the meaning and history of the music used in performance and class, mostly because the music that those dancers typically use is from the Middle East and these dancers often perform for people from the Middle East.  How embarrassing for a dancer to perform a happy, light-hearted dance to a song that’s really about heartache and lost love to an audience full of people who know the true meaning of the song… not to mention that those audience members might be terribly offended that the dancer clearly had no idea of what that song means!  Luckily, in cabaret circles, there are many experienced dancers who will gladly tell a less-experienced dancer the meaning of a song and the history behind it.

With tribal fusion dancers, however, the situation is a little bit different… Because tribal fusion is such a new genre, and also because it encompasses such a wide range of dance styles and music choices, we may not think we have many mentors or instructors to give us guidance on the meaning of a song.  Unfortunately, I think a lot of newer dancers in the tribal fusion genre get wrapped up in the fun and artistic freedom of the style without thinking about the responsibility that they have as performers and as performers of an ethnic dance form with a rich history.

I find this phenomenon happening most often as tribal fusion dancers use more and more Balkan and Romany (Gypsy) music and blend it with old-timey, Vaudeville, circus, and sideshow themes.  And of course, blending these images and ideas with bellydance is fun and entertaining, but that doesn’t mean that we don’t have a responsibility to know the origins of our music.  The Romany people have been persecuted and discriminated against throughout history, and much of their traditional songs reflect this collective experience.  While a lot of Balkan Romany music sounds fun and entertaining, the lyrics of these songs can be much more sad than we Westerners might perceive.  I saw a dancer performing a light-hearted, Vaudeville-inspired choreography to “Djelem Djelem” (lyrics and translation here), which is considered to be the Romany anthem.  Jarko Jovanovic composed the words and set them to a traditional melody in response to Nazi persecution of the Gypsies during the Holocaust.  It’s not exactly a happy song.  (For further information and history of the Roma, visit this website.)

So, even though tribal fusion is such a new style, and it’s certainly going through its own growing pains, that doesn’t mean that those of us who perform this genre are excused from the responsibility of research, or from respecting our source material and music.  Of course, not every traditional song has some deep, historical meaning… but it might.  Please, if you choose to dance to a traditional song, particularly one with sung lyrics, take a few moments to poke around on the internet to find out the origins of that song.