![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
May. 12th, 2006 11:09 amcaffeine and sugar, I love you
caffeine and sugar, yes I do
With four hours of sleep last night, that's all that's keeping me going right now. But it was worth it, for a very fun and unpredicatable show at the Athenian Corner. My drum solo was good; once the drummer saw that I could keep a beat, he kicked it up a little to challenge me, which I enjoyed. My dancing would have been smoother with a simpler solo, but I'd rather learn from him. He threw in a big fat booming ayoub so I got to do some hair-tossing and swirly-head turning--I really noticed the effects of my chiropractor's visit earlier in the day, my neck felt like it was made of perfect ball bearings and it felt so damn good, I could have kept right on going into trance if it had been the right time and place. Oh, and I tried out an eyebrow accent that I totally stole from Ansuya and got great response with it, that's a keeper.
Then came my finale, which I was expecting to be a reprise of some of the earlier songs in the routine, Istem Babajim (the spelling of which I am massacring, but if you're a dancer you know what song I mean) and something else--and instead, as I fumbled to put my zills on, I realized I was hearing a 9/8. And as the song really kicked in, I realized I was hearing Rompi Rompi. Regular readers may recall that I have spoken of my difficulty with non-Arabic 9/8s and my particular dislike for Rompi Rompi. So there I am on stage stuck improvising to it, and to make matters even worse I was wearing a trumpet skirt. For non-dancers, this would be a bit like being at a conference in your profession or academic discipline and being asked to give a talk about a similar but not all that familiar profession or discipline that you don't know that much about, and the only textbook you have to brush up with is in a language you don't really know, and also you forgot your good suit. And you know there's experts in that field in your audience, and an intimidating panel (the band) sitting up on stage with you. I was so flustered I put my zills on the wrong fingers (figured that one out when they didn't play quite right, and fixed them). It was all the stranger because they had already played Rompi Rompi earlier in the evening for another dancer, and they should have known by looking at my costuming that I was not prepared for karshilama. But I hopped and spun and zilled my way through to the end, then ran up to the dressing room and collapsed in a fit of the giggles. I had faced pretty much my worst nightmare, and come through it with dignity more or less intact, except for the zill thing but that was minor. All my classmates who did the group karsh number last year knew exactly how I feel about karsh and laughed along with me, even Amira Jamal was laughing. I think I am past any hangups I may have had with this.
Then we did Soleil d'Egypte, 9 of us dancing in very tight quarters but it somehow worked. I doubt they had ever had so many dancers performing at the same time there. It was fun though, we all seemed relaxed and happy. I know I was; what's a little pop choreography after the dreaded karsh?
I thought I did not like the big Cas Iberia scimitars for cabaret work, but after seeing Nikki dancing with hers last night, I believe I have changed my mind. Doesn't sound any heavier than the one I've got, even though it looks much larger. $175 is not a good price, you can get them for less. Another item for the want list...
caffeine and sugar, yes I do
With four hours of sleep last night, that's all that's keeping me going right now. But it was worth it, for a very fun and unpredicatable show at the Athenian Corner. My drum solo was good; once the drummer saw that I could keep a beat, he kicked it up a little to challenge me, which I enjoyed. My dancing would have been smoother with a simpler solo, but I'd rather learn from him. He threw in a big fat booming ayoub so I got to do some hair-tossing and swirly-head turning--I really noticed the effects of my chiropractor's visit earlier in the day, my neck felt like it was made of perfect ball bearings and it felt so damn good, I could have kept right on going into trance if it had been the right time and place. Oh, and I tried out an eyebrow accent that I totally stole from Ansuya and got great response with it, that's a keeper.
Then came my finale, which I was expecting to be a reprise of some of the earlier songs in the routine, Istem Babajim (the spelling of which I am massacring, but if you're a dancer you know what song I mean) and something else--and instead, as I fumbled to put my zills on, I realized I was hearing a 9/8. And as the song really kicked in, I realized I was hearing Rompi Rompi. Regular readers may recall that I have spoken of my difficulty with non-Arabic 9/8s and my particular dislike for Rompi Rompi. So there I am on stage stuck improvising to it, and to make matters even worse I was wearing a trumpet skirt. For non-dancers, this would be a bit like being at a conference in your profession or academic discipline and being asked to give a talk about a similar but not all that familiar profession or discipline that you don't know that much about, and the only textbook you have to brush up with is in a language you don't really know, and also you forgot your good suit. And you know there's experts in that field in your audience, and an intimidating panel (the band) sitting up on stage with you. I was so flustered I put my zills on the wrong fingers (figured that one out when they didn't play quite right, and fixed them). It was all the stranger because they had already played Rompi Rompi earlier in the evening for another dancer, and they should have known by looking at my costuming that I was not prepared for karshilama. But I hopped and spun and zilled my way through to the end, then ran up to the dressing room and collapsed in a fit of the giggles. I had faced pretty much my worst nightmare, and come through it with dignity more or less intact, except for the zill thing but that was minor. All my classmates who did the group karsh number last year knew exactly how I feel about karsh and laughed along with me, even Amira Jamal was laughing. I think I am past any hangups I may have had with this.
Then we did Soleil d'Egypte, 9 of us dancing in very tight quarters but it somehow worked. I doubt they had ever had so many dancers performing at the same time there. It was fun though, we all seemed relaxed and happy. I know I was; what's a little pop choreography after the dreaded karsh?
I thought I did not like the big Cas Iberia scimitars for cabaret work, but after seeing Nikki dancing with hers last night, I believe I have changed my mind. Doesn't sound any heavier than the one I've got, even though it looks much larger. $175 is not a good price, you can get them for less. Another item for the want list...
