In the world of tribal fusion belly dance, dancers have been taking every possible dance form and trying to “fuse” it with tribal style belly dance, or at least with belly dance.  I’m not sure why, but I suspect that most of this fusion is driven by a desire to come up with the next “new cool thing.”  (Of course, I could be totally wrong!)  We, as tribal and fusion dancers, almost take it for granted that we can take any other dance form in the world, mush it into a choreography, and present it at a fusion dance festival or show.  But what if we took our fusions to the dance communities from which we are pulling?

Because, I have to say it: Many fusions I’m seeing aren’t well-researched, deeply-studied, or solid… and I wonder why some are created in the first place because they just don’t seem to fit together well.  Some fusions I’ve seen are like watching a fish trying to ride a bicycle; sure it would be a cool sight to see, but why even try?

There.  I said it.  Sue me.

What if we took a half-assed fusion of, say, Hawaiian hula and belly dance and took it to a respected hula festival?  What if we took our “interpretations” of Indian classical dance and showed them to an audience of respected Indian gurus?  What if we took our strange blend of vaudeville, cabaret, and vintage dance and performed it for an audience of true stage performers and actors?  I might be going out on a limb here, but I suspect that those communities would react in several ways: They would probably be offended, confused, and might respect our already ill-respected belly dance community even less.  They might ask, “what on Earth do they think they’re doing?” They might also laugh at us.  (And this is not to say that all fusion is bad fusion.  There are some remarkable blends of belly dance with other world and Western dance forms.)

I’m not sure what the solution or approach is to mitigating this issue.  I understand that as artists we reserve the right to experiment, play, and try new things.  I’m not calling on people to stop having fun.  I am, of course, a fusion dancer: I consider my primary fusions to be tribal belly dance, oriental belly dance, and a bit of modern club dancing.  I’m currently in an ATS basics class; dancing regularly with two amazing breakdancers; and continuing my study of oriental dance, music, and culture. And I will say this: my fusion has been a completely organic process.  I haven’t tried to force any sort of styling into my dance for the sake of being “cool”, “different”, or to gain attention from the wider belly dance community.  And I’m not saying that all fusionists blend dance styles just to get noticed, but that certainly does happen.

I’ve been saying this for a while: there are some fusions that work and others that don’t.  To put it another way, peanut butter and chocolate might not appeal to everyone, but for the most part, it’s a really good blend of flavors.  Peanut butter and anchovies, though?  I’m not sure that’s a fusion we really need to have.

We have a responsibility to truly respect the cultures from which we are pulling when we fuse.  What I feel like I’m seeing in this community is a lot of, “Oh that’s cool! Let’s blend that with belly dance!” and not much more consideration before putting that new fusion on a stage.  Maybe, just for a moment, think of how members of that community from which you are pulling will react to your fusion.  Will they ask, “What on Earth are you DOING??” or will they compliment you for your tasteful blend of something that’s near and dear to their hearts with something that’s near and dear to yours?

As a child, I was always interested in anything Middle Eastern, mostly in a fantasy context.  The Arabian Dance in The Nutcracker was always my favorite part of that ballet.  I constantly asked my mother to play her worn out copy of Scheherezade on the record player in the living room.  I would pretend that the oriental rugs in our house were magic flying carpets.  The Tales of 1001 Nights were my favorite fairy tales.

In 5th grade, I learned very basic elements of Middle Eastern geography.  Our teacher told us about Iraq and the basics about the Gulf War.  I never quite understood why the border between Yemen and Saudi Arabia was always a dotted line on maps, but I figured I would learn someday.  I didn’t understand much about Israel and the Palestinian territories, but I had an idea that it was contested.

It wasn’t until 7th grade that I really had any idea about the Middle East, its people, arts, music, or history.  And I stumbled into my future through something quite unexpected.

In 1991 I saw a trailer for Disney’s newest movie, Aladdin. I remember being so excited.  The art captured my imagination, and I got my hands on anything I could about the film.  I read up on the making of the movie, on the research the artists did on Islamic art to give the movie its look.  When I learned about Islamic art, I started to look further into the culture.  I remember dragging my parents to the Freer and Sackler Museums in Washington, DC, during our annual summer visit to the East Coast, because I wanted to see an exhibit there of illuminated Qur’ans.  I still have the poster I bought in the gift shop that day.  What started as a childhood fancy started becoming something near and dear to my heart.

My obsession with the Middle East carried on through high school.  I bought Passion: Sources during my Freshman year of high school, which first exposed me to the music of the Middle East, North Africa, and South Asia.  I listened to that CD over and over and over again, letting the melodies and rhythms feed my imagination.  It’s still one of my favorite recordings.  I continued researching what I could about Islamic art and other aspects of the Middle East.  During my senior year, I took beginner Arabic classes through the local parks and recreation department.

When I entered college, I discovered that my university had one of the oldest and established Near Eastern Studies departments in the United States.  With the department’s small student numbers and reputable professors, I was hooked.  Early on, I decided to major in Near Eastern Studies (before 9/11, i.e. before it was popular).  I took Arabic language classes every semester (but my brain has a hard time with languages, and I don’t remember as much as wish I did!). Even my University’s Arab Society considered me a bit of an honorary member, even though I am not at all Arab (and if I am Semitic at all, I’m part Sephardic Jew). When my friend (who also majored in Near Eastern Studies – we were the only ones in our graduating class who did) and I saw that the university gym offered belly dance classes, we decided to sign up.  Hey, it’s Middle Eastern and related to our studies!  Why not?  I took my first belly dance classes (with the amazing Kim Leary) in January 2000… and I was completely hooked.  I loved the music, the movements, the expression, and it was one more thing to bring me closer to this culture to which I have always been so drawn.  For my next four years or so of studying belly dance, I stuck very much to being a Middle Eastern dancer, dabbling in everything I could: Saaidi, Turkish Oryantal, Turkish Romany, Egyptian Oriental, Khaliji, Modern Egyptian, and American Cabaret.

So… you might be wondering what happened after that… well.  That’s a tale for the next blog entry.