There's a point, right before you go down for the final crouch/dead faint, that my heart leaps up in my throat, and I feel the hair on my neck standing up. That happened when I was actually there, and it happens when I watch the video.
I'm not sure what it is that you do specifically at that point. I think it may be that, at that moment, a lot of the tension that has been building throughout the dance suddenly gets released. It has a huge, primal, emotional impact ... on me, anyway.
Oddly, that was the first time I'd seen you perform a zar head on (usually I see you from the side or, if I'm standing on the sidewalk outside the Corner, from the back. It never fails to thoroughly entrance me (and I get teary and a little short of breath) but watching it from that vantage point at this hafli (and maybe with all the ambient emotion around the benefit) was like getting hit by a velvet sledgehammer.
The crowd reactions to a zar, especially one presented in the context of a bellydance show, really intrigues me. Because when one does it right, it seems rather artless at first compared to all the abdominal isolations, endless shimmies, perfectly poised hands, and tight choreography.
When the dancer starts, I sense a definite division in the audience, between those who don't know what the heck all the tossing about portends (where's my AmCab? What the heck is this?), and those who are trying to brace themselves for what they know is coming.
Gradually the two groups come together, although there are some on both sides that are hanging back (people from the first group that still don't get the narrative flow, a couple-few people from the latter group who are digging their heels in against the riptide) -- that's the point in the video when you start to hear the ululations from the other bellydancers and some yelling from others in the audience.
A little after that, the tide turns. The people that were trying to resist being drawn out give up and drown. The people who didn't know what the hell was going on are blasted back in their seats, slack-jawed. One of the women from the kitchen who came out to see it says "Hijole" behind me, and then it's partly the lift of the house, and partly the emotion that's flinging off the stage, that has everyone leaning forward, totally engaged, totally breathless, and finally, totally exhausted.
To my right, there was a little family unit that I think had come to see a daughter dance. When you finished, the guy (uncle? older brother?) slumped forward, elbows on knees, face in hands. The older woman (mother? aunt?) had her hand on her heart and was muttering and shaking her head. The younger women (sisters? cousins?) were radiant, clapping, cooing at you. They all recovered quickly, though.
Garabed looked happy, but really devastated, when I looked at him. His hands were trembling trying to switch out the CDs. Seeing that made me all teary again.
Wow, thank you for the view from the floor. When I watched the video, it struck me at the very beginning, just from watching me, that people must have been wondering what the heck I was doing, if they didn't know a little something about zar already. It's good that it seemed artless, I wanted it to seem *real* and it sounds like I got that.
Garabed is the person I referred to earlier who had attended a zar in his family's homeland, Sudan. We were joking later that what I really needed to make it authentic was to slaughter a sheep on the stage ;-)
The lingering ache in my trapezoids brings me a faint echo of Sunday when I turn my head...
The lingering ache in my trapezoids brings me a faint echo of Sunday when I turn my head...
Heavens, I can imagine. The few points where I could disengage a little while watching you do those neck rotations (when I wasn't totally entranced by your hair), I was like, ouch, she's really going to feel that in a couple of days.
Yeah, you do totally get it. I don't have the cultural depth that Garabed has, but I've had the privilege of seeing not-too-touristy zars in some places (and interestingly, among the best were in Andalusian bars, mixed with flamenco). You're certainly the youngest zar dancer that has made my hair stand on end. :)
Garabed is from Sudan? I thought he was from one of the gulf countries. Everyone seems to have a different story about where he is from.
Well, from this uneducated point of view, there were points where it almost seemed like a zombie. And I thought that was cool and kinda creepy. It was when you were doing those little step-foot drag things from one side to the other.
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winterfish
no subject
Date: 2007-08-08 03:10 pm (UTC)I wish I'd been able to see this in person!
no subject
Date: 2007-08-08 05:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-08 05:24 pm (UTC)Because I still have a copy of it lying on my desk. Well, then you will have two perspectives and can edit them together!
no subject
Date: 2007-08-08 08:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-08 08:08 pm (UTC)I'm not sure what it is that you do specifically at that point. I think it may be that, at that moment, a lot of the tension that has been building throughout the dance suddenly gets released. It has a huge, primal, emotional impact ... on me, anyway.
Oddly, that was the first time I'd seen you perform a zar head on (usually I see you from the side or, if I'm standing on the sidewalk outside the Corner, from the back. It never fails to thoroughly entrance me (and I get teary and a little short of breath) but watching it from that vantage point at this hafli (and maybe with all the ambient emotion around the benefit) was like getting hit by a velvet sledgehammer.
The crowd reactions to a zar, especially one presented in the context of a bellydance show, really intrigues me. Because when one does it right, it seems rather artless at first compared to all the abdominal isolations, endless shimmies, perfectly poised hands, and tight choreography.
When the dancer starts, I sense a definite division in the audience, between those who don't know what the heck all the tossing about portends (where's my AmCab? What the heck is this?), and those who are trying to brace themselves for what they know is coming.
Gradually the two groups come together, although there are some on both sides that are hanging back (people from the first group that still don't get the narrative flow, a couple-few people from the latter group who are digging their heels in against the riptide) -- that's the point in the video when you start to hear the ululations from the other bellydancers and some yelling from others in the audience.
A little after that, the tide turns. The people that were trying to resist being drawn out give up and drown. The people who didn't know what the hell was going on are blasted back in their seats, slack-jawed. One of the women from the kitchen who came out to see it says "Hijole" behind me, and then it's partly the lift of the house, and partly the emotion that's flinging off the stage, that has everyone leaning forward, totally engaged, totally breathless, and finally, totally exhausted.
To my right, there was a little family unit that I think had come to see a daughter dance. When you finished, the guy (uncle? older brother?) slumped forward, elbows on knees, face in hands. The older woman (mother? aunt?) had her hand on her heart and was muttering and shaking her head. The younger women (sisters? cousins?) were radiant, clapping, cooing at you. They all recovered quickly, though.
Garabed looked happy, but really devastated, when I looked at him. His hands were trembling trying to switch out the CDs. Seeing that made me all teary again.
no subject
Date: 2007-08-08 08:23 pm (UTC)Garabed is the person I referred to earlier who had attended a zar in his family's homeland, Sudan. We were joking later that what I really needed to make it authentic was to slaughter a sheep on the stage ;-)
The lingering ache in my trapezoids brings me a faint echo of Sunday when I turn my head...
no subject
Date: 2007-08-08 09:04 pm (UTC)Heavens, I can imagine. The few points where I could disengage a little while watching you do those neck rotations (when I wasn't totally entranced by your hair), I was like, ouch, she's really going to feel that in a couple of days.
Yeah, you do totally get it. I don't have the cultural depth that Garabed has, but I've had the privilege of seeing not-too-touristy zars in some places (and interestingly, among the best were in Andalusian bars, mixed with flamenco). You're certainly the youngest zar dancer that has made my hair stand on end. :)
no subject
Date: 2007-08-10 05:02 pm (UTC)Well, from this uneducated point of view, there were points where it almost seemed like a zombie. And I thought that was cool and kinda creepy. It was when you were doing those little step-foot drag things from one side to the other.
no subject
Date: 2007-08-09 04:49 am (UTC)