Monday, May 30, 2011
The Creator, no matter in which Art form he works in, always searches for himself.
In this search for artistic purposes, he faces the fears, imposed limitations and ghosts that live inside us all.
That s why CREATING is always a jump in the darkness, an act of bravery without limits, the final and ultimate flight towards the Unknown.
In the other side of FEAR, there is TOTAL STRENGHT.
By facing his fragilities and fighting with them in order to CREATE, the CREATOR finds out that all those ghosts were nothing but shadows of imaginary devils.
And birth arrives.
And, with birth, LIGHT! And there s the moment of ART happening.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
These photos were taken as I woke up, coming straight from bed and still wondering how the day would develop...even when you think you got everything figured out, then it comes life and dares to surprise you till the bones.
You never know what s around the corner and I guess that s a great part of the fun of being ALIVE.
I love these photos - so wisely taken by someone who knows me all too well - because they are absolutely natural and a true "no show". Just me, waking up in a relatively bad mood and before taking my cappuccino, just preparing myself to go out to the world and face the rain (and the sun that, frequently, comes after the rain)...
Just can t get more natural and real than this.:)
You never know what s around the corner and I guess that s a great part of the fun of being ALIVE.
I love these photos - so wisely taken by someone who knows me all too well - because they are absolutely natural and a true "no show". Just me, waking up in a relatively bad mood and before taking my cappuccino, just preparing myself to go out to the world and face the rain (and the sun that, frequently, comes after the rain)...
Just can t get more natural and real than this.:)
Me and myself. The only and eternal journey.
Retreating to CREATE.
Love to all my blog followers!
See you in Egypt or anywhere else in the world.
Upcoming events in Egypt, Portugal, Italy, United States and Spain!
Keep updated and dance/LIVE at full speed and intensity while you can... Life doesn t wait and a day wasted without dancing/loving/laughing is a wasted time that will never be recovered.
Trains full of fruits and passion pass by once in a while.
Catch them when they stop at your door and be grateful for the trip!
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Friday, May 27, 2011
Joana Saahirah of Cairo at the NILE MAXIM - Hadaweya and tabla
Tabla madness, dancing madness, LIVING madness...only the true WARRIORS follow through the hardest, heaviest tempest and come out of them shinning like brand new human beings.
It is in the times of DARKNESS that you see who you really are and how much LIGHT you carry within.
For the next period of my life, there will be a priority over all others:
Finishing the writing of my own book.
Talk about challenges!
I am not a writer, although writting comes natural to me and works as a bridge between me and the many friends and followers I have all over the world.
Writting is also a kind of release and meditation for me so I use it as a remedy for my soul.
I do it from my guts, as everything else in my life.
Some people can be cerebral and pratical. Others, like me, can only do things from their heart and so there you have it...each word or dance step coming directly from the deepest corner of my heart. Beautiful, for sure. But so exhausting and always putting me inside that vulnerable spot where my raw self is exposed and all the wounds and dreams are made public.
So writting comes as yet another way of connecting myself with other people and being listened to, understood and - hopefully - appreciated.
Besides all that and this wonderful chit chat of the blogs and internet - where I write a kind of heartfelt but "fast food" stuff - there is the HUGE responsability of writing a book, MY OWN book.
This was the reason, the first one, which propelled me with no choice to come to Egypt and re-start my career here, after two intensive and successful years of work in Portugal both as an actress and as a dancer/teacher.
I left everything behind - love, family, work, homeland, all that was comfortable and known to me - and made the a rather crazy, brave decision: I am gonna work as an Oriental Dancer in the birth place of this Art and write about it from my own point of view and experience.
Of course, no one or anything could have warned me for the incredible obstacles and miracles I would face in Egypt. That s part of the BRAVE step: it is full of ignorance and childish confidence. Otherwise, most of the incredible steps of the most incredible people would not have taken place.
Time passed and, after five years performing in Egypt and other two years previous to these when I danced around the Middle East tasting other oriental waters, I ve come to a point of success and recognition world wide and I can proclaim, with the confidence of the brave and the conscience of the experienced, that I am ready to close this huge chapter by telling the world how come did I end up here, everywhere, doing what I do.
The adventures of an Oriental Dancer in the land of all mysteries...
Events will follow and I will surely divulgate them over here but my mind, hands, heart and soul will be stripped off their charts by the most daring step I have taken so far: writting my own book.
News of following events will be updated soon!
Grateful for the LIFE already experienced and happy, in antecipation, for the MUCH more that is still to come.
Amen.
Cairo, the 27th May, 2011
Rilke.
"Want the change. Be inspired by the flame/
where everything shines as it disappears.
(...)
Even happiness is the child of a separation/
it did not think it could survive.
(...)
Flow into the knowledge that what you are seeking/
finishes often at the start, and, with ending, begins."
R. M. Rilke
Thursday, May 26, 2011
MOV06091
Me, doing "my thing" on an Om Kolthoum favourite of mine.
Only true ROMANTICS who still believe in true love can dance Om Kolthoum.
Cynicals and cold people cannot. That s the only thing I am sure of when it comes to dancing the best material there is for Oriental Dance.
Joaquin Cortes y su flamenco
Leaving you all with some of the best dance goodies I can thank of.
Put together Joaquin Cortes, Baryshnikov and Gene Kelly (unfortunately not among us, anymore...) and just hand them to me on a plate. All I would need is a spoon.
Lord All Mighty for the BEAUTY of the world!
Gregory Hines & Sammy Davis Jr
Brilliant!
Talk about breath taking...
It is this LIFE force that I see as MAGICAL when it comes to the effect a brilliant piece of DANCE can have on human beings.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh........................................................
Romeo y Julieta - Allessandra Ferri y Julio Bocca
Julio Boca and Allessandra Ferri giving one of the best interpretations of "Romeu and Juliet" I ve ever seen. This is classical ballet, distant from technical empty fireworks, but FULL of REAL LIFE and ART.
Prokofiev s master piece, in my opinion.
The music just fits Shakespeare s play so divinely...all the nuances of the characters and the story emotional line translated into music in a perfect and HUMAN way.
This IS BREATH TAKING stuff...
I sigh, I sigh.....aaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.................................
Opening ballet from "White Nights" by Mikhail Baryshnikov
In another wonderful conversation I often have with Mahmoud Reda, we asked each other what was essential in a DANCER.
Mahmoud told me about technique and talent, creativity and understanding of the dance craft.
My answer was simple and concise:
"A dancer should be breath taking."
For me, as a DANCER myself, I consider my job done when I can take the breath of my audience away, even if for a few seconds.
When DANCE achieves THAT, I say there s a LIGHT, a moment of suspension and extreme emotion when DANCER and AUDIENCE are connected through their hearts and souls.
When your breath is taken away, it means something in your own organism is interrupted and questioned. Organs and cells stop, as if in awe or scared by something NEW and yet so familiar, for some undefined time and there is a MOMENT of absence from our normal world.
A dancer has to be breath taking. Period.
If not, Dance is just a beautiful connection of different movements, empty as balloons.
No deal.
To be a DANCER is a work in progress.
The quality that turns a DANCER into an ARTIST able to touch people s minds, hearts and souls is a QUALITY , a DIVINE quality that - I believe ! - only God can give or take away from us.
Praying to always take my own breath away while dancing. The rest follows so naturally that it almost becomes common.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Nina Simone - Evr'y time we say goodbye
"Every time we say good buy, I die a little"...
Cole Porter by the voice of the irresistible NINA SIMONE!
Just a little good buy from my blog followers (I ll be back, though!) with the hopeful certainty that after each sad "good buy" comes a new and happier "Welcome!".
Cairo, the 24th May, 2011
"A Cairo stalker s classic"
Being stalked by despaired men in Cairo is as common for any woman as listening to the also classic "Welcome to Cairo" throwed at tourists with the funny, generous smiles egyptians carry so well.
Sexual harassment is a circular and recurrent theme of this blog simply because it reflects the truth about my life in Cairo. As a woman, as a foreigner, as a DANCER, as a FREE individual who chooses to express herself as she pleases and go wherever she wishes to, this kind of experience is just as present in my daily life as a morning teeth brushing.
Yet there are many kinds of stalkers around:
The ones who choose to spend their time calling women with sexual remarks and silly, empty, childish conversation attempts.
The ones who just say dirty things to women as they pass by in any public place.
The ones with money who stalk DANCERS - no kidding!- in the most dangerous, sneaky, evil and harmful way.
The ones who will actually grop women s bodies in public places.
The ones who will stalk women by car, following them until she agrees to get into the car or get a police man who will, most commonly, also harass her.
The ones who will stop their cars, park them and run after women trying to pick them up as they walk along the streets of Cairo.
From all the wonderfully disgusting array of Cairo sexual harassers, the ones I get more often are the professional ones - surrounding my work - the "dirty words" whisperers in the street and the stalkers who park their cars and walk by my side proclaiming their infinite love at first sight and inquiring me about the knowledge I may have of my own beauty (how much cheasier can this get???!!!)...
Here s an instant classic freshly baked from the Cairo pervert s woven (just happened last night):
After a friend of mine dropped me at home, I felt an urge to go down to the gasoline station near from my home to get a few bottles of ice tea (yes! Summer has finally arrived to our beloved Cairo!) and cookies.
Innocent task. Innocent enough.
As I was paying my goodies, I noticed a pair of good looking guys staring at me as if I was the reincarnation of Marylin Monroe (another common treat around here) and, fast in my intuition, I could preview the movie that would follow ("these guys are going to follow me...I just know it!", I thought to myself).
As I left the shop of the station, one of them followed me immediately and tried to start conversation but I, suddenly, changed the direction of my steps and he got disoriented and almost fell on the floor ("I wish!").
I started walking really fast towards my home and felt someone was running after me.
- Mademoiselle! - Mr. Creep bursted at me.
- Can I talk to you? - He insisted, even when I ignored him and continued walking.
-No, you can t. - I finally answered, without looking him at the face.
-Do you know how beautiful you are? - He persisted.
- Yes, I know. - I answered, with indifference.
-Can I know you? Invite you for a drink, for dinner, anything? I just want to know you better. Is it possible? - He shot at me in a hurry, seeing how I was sprinting and still refusing to look at him.
-No, you can t. - I said to him, dryly and starting to loose my already short patience.
- Can I speak with you?
-No.
-Can I take your phone number?
-No.
-Can you look at me?
-No.
-Am I bothering you (duhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...........)?
- YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! - I yelled at him, ready to put down my grocery bags and punch him on the face as I had to do on many other occasions.
He finally quit walking along with me but allowed himself to sink even lower by persisting on the pleading about going out with him until I disappeared from his visual horizon.
Now...again and again...I stress an essential point over here: What kind of MAN who is worth being called as such would put himself in such a deep shit in order to pick up a stranger from the street?!
Yeah, yeah...we all know about women in the Middle East being, generally, treated as meat for instant consumption and male pleasure.
We all know - and some of us feel it on their own skins - about Women s rights or the absence of them.
We all know about women being chosen by the male buyers as cheap cattle and yet, the more I observe men s behaviour in Egypt (Middle East included here), my pity and misericordy goes to THEM.
I ended up seeing the predators as the victims because it is so damned shameful the place where they insist on putting themselves, like hungry, desperate dogs in search of a mate.
Very SAD, dear gentlemen.
What about a little, just a little, self respect?
"A Cairo stalker s classic"
Being stalked by despaired men in Cairo is as common for any woman as listening to the also classic "Welcome to Cairo" throwed at tourists with the funny, generous smiles egyptians carry so well.
Sexual harassment is a circular and recurrent theme of this blog simply because it reflects the truth about my life in Cairo. As a woman, as a foreigner, as a DANCER, as a FREE individual who chooses to express herself as she pleases and go wherever she wishes to, this kind of experience is just as present in my daily life as a morning teeth brushing.
Yet there are many kinds of stalkers around:
The ones who choose to spend their time calling women with sexual remarks and silly, empty, childish conversation attempts.
The ones who just say dirty things to women as they pass by in any public place.
The ones with money who stalk DANCERS - no kidding!- in the most dangerous, sneaky, evil and harmful way.
The ones who will actually grop women s bodies in public places.
The ones who will stalk women by car, following them until she agrees to get into the car or get a police man who will, most commonly, also harass her.
The ones who will stop their cars, park them and run after women trying to pick them up as they walk along the streets of Cairo.
From all the wonderfully disgusting array of Cairo sexual harassers, the ones I get more often are the professional ones - surrounding my work - the "dirty words" whisperers in the street and the stalkers who park their cars and walk by my side proclaiming their infinite love at first sight and inquiring me about the knowledge I may have of my own beauty (how much cheasier can this get???!!!)...
Here s an instant classic freshly baked from the Cairo pervert s woven (just happened last night):
After a friend of mine dropped me at home, I felt an urge to go down to the gasoline station near from my home to get a few bottles of ice tea (yes! Summer has finally arrived to our beloved Cairo!) and cookies.
Innocent task. Innocent enough.
As I was paying my goodies, I noticed a pair of good looking guys staring at me as if I was the reincarnation of Marylin Monroe (another common treat around here) and, fast in my intuition, I could preview the movie that would follow ("these guys are going to follow me...I just know it!", I thought to myself).
As I left the shop of the station, one of them followed me immediately and tried to start conversation but I, suddenly, changed the direction of my steps and he got disoriented and almost fell on the floor ("I wish!").
I started walking really fast towards my home and felt someone was running after me.
- Mademoiselle! - Mr. Creep bursted at me.
- Can I talk to you? - He insisted, even when I ignored him and continued walking.
-No, you can t. - I finally answered, without looking him at the face.
-Do you know how beautiful you are? - He persisted.
- Yes, I know. - I answered, with indifference.
-Can I know you? Invite you for a drink, for dinner, anything? I just want to know you better. Is it possible? - He shot at me in a hurry, seeing how I was sprinting and still refusing to look at him.
-No, you can t. - I said to him, dryly and starting to loose my already short patience.
- Can I speak with you?
-No.
-Can I take your phone number?
-No.
-Can you look at me?
-No.
-Am I bothering you (duhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...........)?
- YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! - I yelled at him, ready to put down my grocery bags and punch him on the face as I had to do on many other occasions.
He finally quit walking along with me but allowed himself to sink even lower by persisting on the pleading about going out with him until I disappeared from his visual horizon.
Now...again and again...I stress an essential point over here: What kind of MAN who is worth being called as such would put himself in such a deep shit in order to pick up a stranger from the street?!
Yeah, yeah...we all know about women in the Middle East being, generally, treated as meat for instant consumption and male pleasure.
We all know - and some of us feel it on their own skins - about Women s rights or the absence of them.
We all know about women being chosen by the male buyers as cheap cattle and yet, the more I observe men s behaviour in Egypt (Middle East included here), my pity and misericordy goes to THEM.
I ended up seeing the predators as the victims because it is so damned shameful the place where they insist on putting themselves, like hungry, desperate dogs in search of a mate.
Very SAD, dear gentlemen.
What about a little, just a little, self respect?
Monday, May 23, 2011
Cairo, the 23rd May, 2011
Of Tango and other lessons...
The smell of each man I danced with during the night lingers in the memory of my senses.
The emotions I had with some of them fill my heart with new colours and possibilities.
The suspension, attack, different ways of reading the music coming from such different partners start to build up inside me, giving me ideas of how to use Oriental music in my own work and artistic expression.
The different personalities and energies I am offered to dance with tell me there is much more than 10000 ways to dance and that a simple walking step can carry the world in it, if I feel that is the truth.
Tango has been a series of lesson after lesson that brings a new life into my Oriental Dance and understanding of the world.
And what a great lesson it is to understand that dance is defined from within and that small steps can make us fly.
TANGO LESSONS.
Cairo, the 23rd May, 2011
"Whoa, Nelly!"
Just had another hysterical attack at the gym as I watched yet another lebanese lady trying to run at the treadmill wearing high heels, jeans, earrings and full make-up!
Ah, she was also gossiping on her mobile white at it.
By now, I have no further comments on the shocks - of several sorts- that, recurrently, come up between my perception of the world and the one of the ones around me.
Living in Egypt is an exercise of great tolerance and ability to just quit our own LOGIC and accept that, as we see others as aliens, they may also see us like that.
No comments.
Just accepting what it is. And letting it be (it can get quite colourful, actually!).
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Margot Fonteyn & Rudolf Nureyev part 1
The lucky of the few...finding the perfect partner in dance as in life!
Margot and Nureyev symbolize that match made in heaven with all the shoks and tribulations but with the unique shine that SPECIAL combinations produce.
This was one of the most fantastic dance duo of all times.
Wonderful.....................
Rudolf Nureyev Romeo and Juliet [1966] 5/11
My favourite version of "Romeu and Juliet" by Prokofiev.
Nureyev and Fonteyn doing their "thing" , divine as always...
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Cairo, the 21st May, 2011
The only necessary words:
YES.
And...
THANK YOU.
Yes and thank you to EVERYTHING that LIFE brings.
Learning from mistakes, avoiding the lions and the snakes, getting away from all negativity yet accepting obstacles, all kinds of disappointments and challenging times as a motor of speed and growth.
Yes.
Thank you.
Cairo, the 21st May, 2011
Stop!
My latest discovery: the body needs times of rest in order to assimilate all its creations and experiences.
Some times, the best dance exercize you can offer your body is sleep or a quiet time observing what happened to it in recent (or past) times...Listening to it, just listening.
No pushing and no action.
Oh, don t you all look so surprised...yes, this is a discovery for me, even if I always knew, theoratically speaking, that the muscles and the cells need time to digest physical exercise, any kind of exercize.
That might include dance, if the logic of my brain is not failing me in a very obvious way.
Then why would I suppose that, after performing non-stop for the last 5 years, my body would not need a silent/quite time to recover and internally DIGEST all I ve been learning and creating?!
Digestion time...yet ready to new banquet/new creation time
(oh, yeah...I may have discovered the wonders of digestion/quite time for my body but I am still a dance maniac...in case you didn t notice it until now!).
Cairo, the 21st May, 2011
Do you know what I REALLY need in a DANCER?
Spices and wine.
Intelligence from the heart, that kind of intelligence that takes your breath away and produces "Things" you cannot find in the books or in any school of this world.
Truth and guts.
Passion for the DANCE, for love making, for great food and laughter.
The vision of an endless Atlantic Ocean and the humbleness of a peasant.
Spices.
Lots of them. Body transformed into a royal indian food fest in the down town of New Dehli.
Sun and moon.
Srenght and fragility.
What do I really need to see in a Dancer?
The talent that only God gives to some and the HUMANITY that is our common gift (not fully experienced by many of us).
*(And...ah! The spices. )
It s ALL in the spices.
Joana Saahirah of Cairo on baladi, Egypt
Still eating "full and tameya" with my bare hands...
once you are born from the "people of the earth" you never quite loose your original ground.
So thankful for my "fellahin" family who gave me the connection to the ground and the wise humbleness of the simple people.
Joana Saahirah of Cairo dancing at the NILE MAXIM
Baladi me...
And nobody should be surprised to see me in Sakarah, Egypt, eating vegetables and "baladi" bread with peasants ("fellahin"), sitting on the ground and putting the food in my mouth with my bare hands.
"Bint il balad" all the way, but always like a Queen!
Nureyev & Peggy (Piggy) in sauna (Muppet Show)
Miss Piggy knows best.
All up for Nureyev s goodies...hilarious!
Cairo, the 21st May, 2011
The delights of frustration.
I look down at my feet and sigh...
Some tears roll down my face simply because I am not getting enough inspiration to come up with the movements that will EXCITE ME.
This is the painful part of choreographing. I have to feel excited about my own creation, otherwise I get really frustrated and do not even dare to show it to anyone, much less to teach it in any world event.
If you add to that the fact that my friend and teacher Mahmoud Reda is always waiting for me to show him my latest "creation" before I teach it to anyone, then you have the perfect formula for a nerve recking state of mind.
I drink a sip of my water and look at myself in the mirror.
"What s wrong with you, girl?!" - I say, almost screaming, to myself and annoyed at myself as a mother facing her naughty, undisciplined child.
You have the knowledge, you have the vocabulary, you have the talent, says the best part of me, that zone where my mind does not play tricks on me and can actually act like she s a true friend of mine.
I try again and again and nothing comes up. I don t know if the water on my face is just sweat or some of the tears that pour from the most fragile corner of my artist s vulnerable heart.
Always wanting to surplant myself. Always searching, not for the novelty, but for the movement that will express TRUE LIFE. Not an easy task, quite a strange lunatic one, even...
And yet I try and try. And do not allow myself to quit.
This is a kind of a battle between me and myself.
I remember Mahmoud (Reda) patiently pushing me forward and assuring me that I CAN do this. I may be an improvizer by nature but Choreography is the demon battle field where I discover who I am, where are my limits and where can I go to GROW as a dancer.
And I feel that deep frustration of not being able to do what I KNOW I can do.
The body has its strange ways and timings of doing things. You can order it to walk and run, if it wants to, but you shouldn t dare to command him like a dancing Hitler when it comes to CREATION.
The body has a mood and a life of its own and, some times, it just closes itself in its shadow...and I wait, as tenderly as I can, for the unexpected moment when my body allows God to speak through me and then I laugh and wipe off those sweet tears and sour sweat from my face. "Oh God, it is coming...it s arriving!" - I think to myself.
This is the moment when Divine intervention starts pouring its colours and patterns through my frustrated, palpitating wet body. And it doesn t stop for a few hours.
I never know when the miracle of creation happens. I can never force it, although I can genlty invite it. Sometimes, I go to the cinema or watch another great dancer to inspire me. Sometimes it is just a poem or a juice seller in the streets of Cairo clincking his metal plates to the rythm of his own frustration or joy.
Sometimes, it all comes from a happy night of love making with my man, or a hug from a friend, the aroma of the summer arriving...God knows what else!
And, when it happens, movements star to flow and unite themselves to my skin and all I can say is Thank you and the only position I know of to match all this creative tempest is a deep, heartfelt bow, lowering myself until I touch the holy ground of a dancer.
And I say, invariably, Thank you.
Friday, May 20, 2011
Cairo, the 19th May, 2011
Just another day in Paradise...
I´ve mentioned it several times and I will never quit doing it: one of the best things that has happened to me during this great adventure of my LIFE in Egypt is my friendship with my beloved teacher-grandfather Mahmoud Reda.
It is not even the dance he taught me or the continuous push to incentivate me to choreograph or all the precious knowledge and experience he has passed on to me.
What I truly treasure is the childish laughter, mutual respect and the pure love we ended up having for each other despite our age differences and the fact (I often forget) that he is the Number 1 authority in Egyptian folclore and a unique talented Genius in what he did in "Reda Troupe" and all over his career.
We sit and eat together, cracking jokes and naughty remarks so easily you could mistaken us for truck drivers sharing beers by a street roullotte.
He shows me his newest dance and I show him mine, telling him what my heart searches for right now in terms of music. We listen to old tapes together and comment on the zones that are more delicious to choreograph. We often agree and disagree, in the same proportion.
I ask for some Gene Kelly goodies and Mahmoud ends up watching it with me, for the 1000th time admiring the wonder of TALENT, yet he finds out an old VCR tape portraying old classical ballet pieces...as the children we are, always in love with dance and "knowing more of it", we watch it and talk about it, always LAUGHING and enjoying each other´s presence.
He´s there for me and I am always presente for him, even if physically absent.
We know there is a sacred, hidden garden that only belong to us.
I show him Billie Holiday and sing for him, he finishes the concert also singing for me and we laugh, laugh, laugh...
His studio is like a home to me and his presence is the closest I could ever ask as far as family is concerned.
And, because I am not blind, I can see a treasure when it is in front of me and I say THANK YOU.
And, as usual, that´s the only prayer that IS.
Just another day in Paradise...
I´ve mentioned it several times and I will never quit doing it: one of the best things that has happened to me during this great adventure of my LIFE in Egypt is my friendship with my beloved teacher-grandfather Mahmoud Reda.
It is not even the dance he taught me or the continuous push to incentivate me to choreograph or all the precious knowledge and experience he has passed on to me.
What I truly treasure is the childish laughter, mutual respect and the pure love we ended up having for each other despite our age differences and the fact (I often forget) that he is the Number 1 authority in Egyptian folclore and a unique talented Genius in what he did in "Reda Troupe" and all over his career.
We sit and eat together, cracking jokes and naughty remarks so easily you could mistaken us for truck drivers sharing beers by a street roullotte.
He shows me his newest dance and I show him mine, telling him what my heart searches for right now in terms of music. We listen to old tapes together and comment on the zones that are more delicious to choreograph. We often agree and disagree, in the same proportion.
I ask for some Gene Kelly goodies and Mahmoud ends up watching it with me, for the 1000th time admiring the wonder of TALENT, yet he finds out an old VCR tape portraying old classical ballet pieces...as the children we are, always in love with dance and "knowing more of it", we watch it and talk about it, always LAUGHING and enjoying each other´s presence.
He´s there for me and I am always presente for him, even if physically absent.
We know there is a sacred, hidden garden that only belong to us.
I show him Billie Holiday and sing for him, he finishes the concert also singing for me and we laugh, laugh, laugh...
His studio is like a home to me and his presence is the closest I could ever ask as far as family is concerned.
And, because I am not blind, I can see a treasure when it is in front of me and I say THANK YOU.
And, as usual, that´s the only prayer that IS.
Cairo, the 19th may, 2011
Courage (priviledge of a few...).
"In the beginning there is not much difference between the coward and the courageous person.
The only difference is, the coward listens to his fears and follows them, and the courageous person puts them aside and goes ahead. The courageous person goes into the unknown in spite of all the fears."
Osho
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Baryshnikov about Pushkin
Baryshnikov talking about one of the best classical ballet masters of all times: Alexander Pushkin.
Watching this video reminds me of my first steps in dance and as I started learning the craft at the Classical Ballet Conservatoire at the age of 5 years old.
When I was 16 years old, ready to choose to become a professional classical dancer, I left behind Classical Ballet and never looked back because I knew, by then, that art might have been my essential base but was not my CALLING.
Classical ballet was too conservative and restrictive for me. You could not go out of the stipulated structure or move your body in any way it felt. You had to obbey and accept the movement others would impose and I was never good at obedience...
Since I had begun learning ballet, I felt caged into a golden prison where beauty and pain mixed together in a very alluring and dangerous way.
I wanted to be free and faithful to my wild nature and my teachers often complained I didn t control my hips and hands (I wonder from where did it come from! Hmmmm....any guesses?).
I didn t decide NOT to be a professional classical ballet dancer with anger or sadness, although I cried like a baby everytime I watched ballet pieces after that, but I remained loving it in silence, from far...searching for my TRUE mission in dance which ended up being Oriental Dance.
This video also reminds me of the discipline, hard work and humbleness I was taught into. Those are gifts from my past and I am deeply grateful for them.
If I still dance classical ballet?
Sure I do.
Often alone, as a personal training no one, except my own critical mirror, watches. It s a memory lane trip and keeps me rooted, flexible, connected with the place I first learned from.
And yes, I still cry every time I see a good classical ballet performance. I cry due to the emotion - if the dancers are good - and due to my own longing and memories of a full past at the barre repeating and repeating a certain movement or combination until it was what others considered PERFECT.
I came from a world where BEAUTY and artistry cannot be achieved without pain and arrived to Oriental Dance where hard work is always combined with pleasure and never going against my body s nature and instincts. It has been quite a ride!
So many things a dancer is made of...so many.
Yet this was my womb and you always return to the womb.
Cairo, the 18th May, 2011
Books and dancing...my life!
I guess my hands are full right now. Too much to assimilate and taste...
Rudolf Nureyev s biography (talk about AMBITION without limits!) and french romancist Emile Zola telling the strangely familiar tales of "Nana", a parisian dancer/prostitute so close to my surrounding world and a symbol of everything everyone - except my family and real friends- expect me to be.
While I dig, with all my pleasure, in those two books and a few more that I pick up here and there (thanks, Universe, for making me a true daughter of GEMINI sign!) I face my limitations in Dance with the stubborn attitude I tend to put into all my desires accomplishment.
No kidding around here. When I truly FEEL I want to do something, there is nothing and no one who can stop me. Without what many may call arrogance, I could have never reached to the point I am in right now.
Reading Nureyev s biography, I can see how he managed to combine great talent with an ambitious and unscrupulous personality that would stop at nothing to reach his goals.
While I immensely admire his talent, I cannot respect his lack of ethical values while stepping up the stairs of success...
Zola s main character, Nana, simply reminds me of who I don t want to be, even if LIFE pushes me so hard in that direction.
Being a DANCER in Egypt has not only taught me all I know about Oriental dance and Egyptian Folclore but also showed my of which material I am made of.
Challenges follow each other like drops of water in the middle of a tropical tempest and all of them are mirrors of who I REALLY am as a person. That will,for sure, be reflected in my dance.
As I often defend, DANCERS are not ACTORS. And I am a licensed Actress so I must know what I am speaking about.
Dancers always portray their REAL SELVES, even when dancing different characters. The goal of DANCE, as I see and feel it, is to show the CRUDE reality of Human Soul and no masks will do the trick.
That s why, for me, it s so important to build myself as WOMAN I am proud of, being sure that all of that will SHOW on the stage.
The more beautiful and rich I am as a person, the more I will shine on stage, while dancing hence the wish to remain away from all the dirtiness of Oriental Dance in Cairo...
Asking all the Gods for guidance.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Cairo, the 17th May, 2011
The worst kind of ambition (arrogance?)
My own.
Worst kind of arrogance, to be ambitious without being a total bitch!
Specially when it comes to Women - in particular in a country like Egypt or any other in the Middle East - ambition is a delicate subject to discuss.
I ve been used to watch as dancers step on another dancers (this applies, unfortunately, to all artistic areas) in order to achieve their goals.
I ve had low tricks and attacks played on me by famous dancers (egyptian and foreigner) who act like Divas on their own right but, as I discovered, are simple nut unscrupulous women who will do quite "anything" to get where they wish to get.
I have the worst kind of ambition.
I refuse to prostitute my body, mind and soul for the sake of my ambition.
I also refuse to harm others or attack them back *(after they try to screw me as if I was the biggest danger in their lives and all they have to do is to eliminate me and then their lives will be just perfect!).
Being honest and kind, in this country, is seen as a weakness, a fault in your character, some kind of fragility. If you REFUSE to be bad and CHOOSE to do GOOD then you are seen as a weak person. This is just how it is.
My ambition is the WORST and I repeat the WORST kind of ambition.
I do not lick any "pasha" s boots (or anything else, for that matter) in order to have professional benefits. I do not show any rich guy my breasts or talk smoothly dirty with him (speciality of most egyptian dancers) to get "WHAT I WANT".
I hate the simple idea of harming another dancer in order to benefit myself and I take any idea of doing it as a mortifying humiliation from my part. I have the nerve - arrogance! - to believe that my talent and professional abilities will do JUST fine and speak for myself.
I don t beg for the favours of the influential people and I don t smile to anyone, if I don t feel like doing it.
I am seen as a weak person from many - the ones who think I could not be bad without knowing that I COULD but I choose not to - or as an arrogant ass by many others who think I should bow and kiss the feet of "pashas" of every level in order to reach my goals.
I have this terrible- yes, worst! - kind of ambition.
Living and respecting myself as a WOMAN (and yes, a kind of queen!) is a sin around here.
Smart asses who know how to fake a hand shake and prostitutes are the HEROS of the day.
Do I have any intention of changing?!
As any of my detractors would tell you, I have NO intention of doing it. It is INDEED a kind of arrogance from which I am so damned proud.
The worst kind of ambition (arrogance?)
My own.
Worst kind of arrogance, to be ambitious without being a total bitch!
Specially when it comes to Women - in particular in a country like Egypt or any other in the Middle East - ambition is a delicate subject to discuss.
I ve been used to watch as dancers step on another dancers (this applies, unfortunately, to all artistic areas) in order to achieve their goals.
I ve had low tricks and attacks played on me by famous dancers (egyptian and foreigner) who act like Divas on their own right but, as I discovered, are simple nut unscrupulous women who will do quite "anything" to get where they wish to get.
I have the worst kind of ambition.
I refuse to prostitute my body, mind and soul for the sake of my ambition.
I also refuse to harm others or attack them back *(after they try to screw me as if I was the biggest danger in their lives and all they have to do is to eliminate me and then their lives will be just perfect!).
Being honest and kind, in this country, is seen as a weakness, a fault in your character, some kind of fragility. If you REFUSE to be bad and CHOOSE to do GOOD then you are seen as a weak person. This is just how it is.
My ambition is the WORST and I repeat the WORST kind of ambition.
I do not lick any "pasha" s boots (or anything else, for that matter) in order to have professional benefits. I do not show any rich guy my breasts or talk smoothly dirty with him (speciality of most egyptian dancers) to get "WHAT I WANT".
I hate the simple idea of harming another dancer in order to benefit myself and I take any idea of doing it as a mortifying humiliation from my part. I have the nerve - arrogance! - to believe that my talent and professional abilities will do JUST fine and speak for myself.
I don t beg for the favours of the influential people and I don t smile to anyone, if I don t feel like doing it.
I am seen as a weak person from many - the ones who think I could not be bad without knowing that I COULD but I choose not to - or as an arrogant ass by many others who think I should bow and kiss the feet of "pashas" of every level in order to reach my goals.
I have this terrible- yes, worst! - kind of ambition.
Living and respecting myself as a WOMAN (and yes, a kind of queen!) is a sin around here.
Smart asses who know how to fake a hand shake and prostitutes are the HEROS of the day.
Do I have any intention of changing?!
As any of my detractors would tell you, I have NO intention of doing it. It is INDEED a kind of arrogance from which I am so damned proud.
Monday, May 16, 2011
Sergej.S.Prokofjev - Romeo & Juliet ( Fonteyn,Nurejev )
Magnificent Prokofiev and the GENIUS of my beloved Rudolf Nureyev (one of my eternal crushes)...
Ah, if Shakespeare could see this immense beauty!
r themselves.
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