Interesting. Some thoughts flew around in my head as I read it. Since you asked, Shira.... :o)

I tend to agree with the author.

From the flip-side (I am not of Middle Eastern descent), my studying this art form doesn't make me any more like a woman from the Mid East than my spending 12 years in ballet studios makes me French (or Russian?...where on Earth does ballet come from? <gigglesnort>).

Since I am of Eastern Euro heritage, that doesn't mean I am a natural weight lifter, wrestler, gymnast or shot put champion either. So don't assume I can do any of those things. (Well, gymnastics, not since around age 9.) I get what she was saying.

I think my love of the art might liken me to some Mid East women on the basis of liking certain music and that's about it. In a similar way, my German boyfriend and I also share a love of 80's rock and roll.

Exposing one's self to another culture with an open mind and heart is a good thing. Just don't assume that after you spend some time there, you know what it's like to walk in another woman's shoes (be they Nikes,Hermes or Manolos). This is not only true of women of different cultures, but also your best friend and/or next door neighbor. Our experiences shape us and each of us experiences things differently.

Rambling over. Going to bed. Good night.

Excellent POV, well written, to the point.

While I think a lot of the article's opponents (in the LiveJournal comments) make good arguments and the emotional, reactive side of me leans their way, I really agree with the article.

The article demonstrates why I find it so problematic when belly dancers use terms like "authentic" to describe themselves or their dance. Absolutely you can have culturally "authentic" training and culturally "authentic" performances when it comes to folkloric dances (which I would lump into the category "Middle Eastern Dance"). However, what is "authenticity" when it comes to belly dance? As the author points out, much of what we perceive as belly dance was adopted from Western (and specifically American via Hollywood) interpretations of Middle Eastern culture. That is why I have so often insisted that "belly dance" is not synonymous with "Middle Eastern Dance." Of course, it is informed by Middle Eastern dances and cultures. Some styles of belly dance are more informed by MED (Modern Egyptian, for example; or a cabaret assaya piece, which I would distinguish from folkloric raks assaya) and some less; belly dance in general is informed more by some ME dances and cultures (e.g. Saidi) and less by others. Nonetheless, there is no doubt of of the ME connection to belly dance. STILL--I think it's important to distinguish between "Middle Eastern Dance" and belly dance, if for no other reason than the author's main point: belly dance doesn't accurately represent Middle Easterners or Middle Eastern culture.*

In fact, I would argue that "belly dance" is and always has been orientalist. That's not new at all. It speaks very much to an imperialist/colonialist and patriarchal gaze. A lot of belly dance performers are doing now are attempting to reclaim belly dance and belly dancers from patriarchal objectification and to (re)establish a level of subjectivity and agency in the dance. Of course, this is an admirable feminist goal; however, it's important to recognize and reclaim the orientalism and exotification ME culture via belly dance, too. In discussing orientalism, Said notes that European interpretations of Middle East and North African cultures (among "Others"--badumching! Heyy, some Saidian humor for you) feminize those cultures as they exoticize them. The "Other" cultures are painted as inferior in their effeminateness. Ergo, if belly dancers are engaged in feminist reclamation of belly dance, its crucial that they look at the ethnic and racial implications of their efforts, because ethnic "otherness" tends to be strongly gendered. Presenting belly dance as strong, primitive, sex positive, etc. is fine, but it's so often done in a way that projects those aspects onto Middle Eastern culture, and simply swaps one set of orientalist fantasies for another (see Shakira's points in the comments section of the article). I would recommend that any belly dancer attempting to reclaim anything about her art look into intersectional feminist theory. And of course, Saidian theory has its problems, and there are a lot of post-colonial correctives issuing from the academy these days. Still, he's got some good points that are absolutely relevant for well...any belly dancer at all.

My point about reclamation is meant to underscore the idea that although "belly dance" itself is not only derived from orientalist fantasy but IS orientalist fantasy, I think it is very possible to reclaim it from its sexist and racist origins (I wouldn't be so in love with it, otherwise). Yet, at the same time, we have to be really careful about the *way* we reclaim it, or else we only succeed in projecting new and differently problematic images and fantasies onto its cultures of origin. And, reclamation doesn't just come from redefining belly dance. We as belly dancers need to learn more about Middle Eastern culture, and Western societies need to do the same. The author of the article points out that many of the elements of belly dance aren't even Middle Eastern, which is true (and which reinforces my main point that "belly dance" is not MED). If our societies at large learn about Middle Eastern culture and come to understand it, they will learn to distinguish fantasy from reality--they'll GET that swords and sequins don't translate to the ME. If we, as dancers, learn more about Middle Eastern culture, we will be able to represent it more accurately for the general public, and will hopefully learn to stop representing our fantasized performances as culturally authentic.

Personally, I have NO problem with fantasized performances in general. And, unlike the article's author, I have no problem with sparkly bedleh, snakes, swords, or any of that. I agree with those who compare belly dance performance costumes to Latin ballroom dance performance costumes--what a ballroom dancer wears for a competition will NOT be the same as what she or wears for a night out at the local salsa club or for her Latin cousin's wedding. I just find it problematic when fantasized elements are presented as "authentic" or culturally representative. We as dancers have a responsibility to educate ourselves. If our societies will become more educated, too, cultural "otherness" will be replaced by cultural understanding.


*It's also important not to characterize Middle Eastern culture as some sort of monolithic establishment, either. It's absolutely not, but for the sake of brevity here, I'll refer to "Middle Eastern culture."

I am Canadian. I get tired of people assuming I live in snow 12 months out of the year huddled in an igloo, watching hockey, eating pea soup washed down with maple syrup and beer, while wearing a plaid shirt and toque, eh.

Her point is valid and well expressed. But it won't make me stop wearing bedlah, sparkles, and coins. I don't feel that I become ME when I dance or dress for a performance, my dancer name isn't ME, and I doubt that the predominantly white, rednecks (now who's stereotyping!) in our town could ever think I was ME. I didn't like her lumping all bellydancers into the same pot as those disrespectful ones she seems to have had offend her.

My reaction was she seems a bit hostile. My current thought is to not make assumtions. I'd like to think bellydancing has made me more informed about the middle east but that does not make me or anyone else an expert.

The author makes many valid points, but I feel that there is animosity being displayed towards people of non-Middle Eastern decent who belly dance. I think it is fine for the author to express her feelings about Westernized belly dance, but I don't think that this form of writing is a productive way to solve the problem of Orientalism. Education of the public is what will solve this problem. Maybe insted of complaining about the problem, she could have written an article explaining the differences in objective terms, or she could have written an article explaining true Middle Eastern dance. I feel that as teachers and students, we need to learn the differences between all the facets of belly dance and traditional Middle Eastern dance so we can educate eachother and the public. It is not enough to say to ourselves that "I feel I am portraying an art form that may have been derived from Middle eastern dance at one time" because the people we dance for may not know this. We need to tell them that we represent a style of dance that has its roots in the Middle East but does not reflect true Middle Eastern life if what the author is complaining about is to stop.
Something that stood out to me in the article:
"Performers (Middle Eastern or non-Middle Eastern) highlight these images when they (Middle Eastern or non-Middle Eastern) balance swords on their heads and give themselves henna tattoos. The inclusion of these props is often used to authenticate a Middle Eastern experience, making the performance or venue more like the “Mysterious Orient,” ...The problem is that belly dancing is permeated with all of these negative Orientalist dancing harem girl images. Can one belly dance without the coins, the henna, and/or swords? I think so."
Yes, I also believe that one can belly dance with out the use of coins, swords, henna, etc. but if we conciously know the history of these things and explain them to other people, then what is the harm? I was an Irish step dancer for many years before I was a belly dancer. I conciuosly knew that the dress I preformed in was not a traditional outfit worn in the 18th century and that not all Irish people have curls, but this is what the style of dance called for, so this is what I wore. I think belly dancers should be mindful of the image they are presenting but should wear what they feel the most comfortable in albeit ATS attire, sequined tops, coin belts, or sweat pants and a tshirt.

i use a Middle Eastern dance name not because i'm trying to "be Middle Eastern" but because i don't want people using my real name to find out where i live, and because the name means "joy" which is how BD makes me feel. i considered Irish names, as well as a few other categories that were in my name book (stones/trees, liturature) but Fariha just fit best.
there is clearly a line where one is orientalizing- i don't do the "veil in-front of face head slide" or things along those lines- but i think if we don't pay attention to there being non-orientalist BD AND orientalist BD then we'd be saying that Japanese people are "othering" us when they eat McDonalds, or that people in Syracuse are being racist against Eskimo when we buy suede fo-fur lined snow boots.
there are some Japanese fashion designers who put out coture designs inspired by kimono, they are sometimes quite avante-garde (sp?) would we say they are othering themselves by using a female element of the romanticized past to create new designs? would the answer be different if an American put out the same designs? what about an American of Japanese decent?
i think i tend to fall along the lines of some of the comments pointing out the difference between dance performance and social dance.
i do very much agree that it's ridiculous to think that because you're a bellydancer you know what it's like to be a Middle Eastern woman. that's the thing that makes me the most self conscious. u know that awkward feeling where u know ur not a racist, but you're worried the person ur talking to is going to think ur a racist?

Great link and topic, Shira! [ And while we’re at it, I don’t live on a houseboat, have a starbucks IV drip, or run around in a yellow rain slicker and galoshes ;) ]

I found myself becoming a little reactive the first time I read the blog through, but upon second pass, I thought to myself…. Aren’t these many of the same reasons we get upset about when having to defend our dance form, which for many of us is such a big part of our social, fitness, scholarly, or artistic life and thus, what many of us consider part of our identities? Having to extinguish the flames of comments born out of pre-conceived fantasy or previous bad exposure to BD gets really tiresome after a while. I chuckled to myself when I read the ‘About’ page for the blog:

“Muslimah Media Watch is a forum where we, as Muslim women, can critique how our images appear in the media and popular culture. Although we are of different nationalities, sects, races, etc., we have something important in common: we’re tired of seeing ourselves portrayed by the media in ways that are one-dimensional and misleading. This blog is meant to be inclusive to all people.”

The author does have some valid points and it’s my feeling that we can represent ourselves better when dealing with the general public. Whatever style you practice, bellydance is still a largely misunderstood art form in the West from outside and inside the worldwide bellydance community. The media is partly to blame for the proliferation of the not-so-flattering image of bellydance, but the responsibility also falls on our shoulders when we are not positive ambassadors for the dance.

How do you all feel about the reputation of bellydance within the Middle East? If it wasn’t considered “shameful and associated with illicit activities”, do you think it would have any effect on the author’s outlook? I will say, that there is equal, if not more effort coming from dance artists in the West to elevate the art form and separate the fantasy-overtly-sexualized image from bellydance. Many of my fellow artists have a basic understanding of Turkish, Arabic , or colloquial dialects. Many of my fellow artists have just as great of an understanding of the classical and traditional music from these regions. Many have just as great an understanding of political, cultural, and social issues that are a part of the Arab / Muslim/ NE world. Shall we lump them together with the group that’s doing the I Dream of Genie dance at the Mall Food Court Stage?

“This blog is meant to be inclusive to all people.” “MMW strives to create an environment in which our writers and readers feel safe and welcome”

Except if you have taken on a stage/dance name?

"If you’re a non-Middle Eastern performer, why give yourself a Middle Eastern stage name? What’s wrong with a name that reflects your own ethnicity or interests? Is it not “ethnic” or “exotic” enough? Besides, how would you feel if someone else used the name your parents gave you (that perhaps also belonged to your grandmother or aunt) as a stage name for an act that most people in your culture consider shameful if done publicly? (Cultural lesson: in most parts of the Middle East, belly dancing is often a cover for illicit activities.)"

I just posted a reply on another forum regarding stage names recently, so I apologize if the following sounds like a repeat, but these are my thoughts on dance/stage names... My real last name, “Divine”, could be considered associated with illicit activities. Porn stars have adopted my last name, and so have drag queens. I have no problem with either. Anyone remember the Hugh Grant scandal? I can’t say I really blame them… it’s a great last name! Does it bother me that their using my last name? Absolutely not ;)

My dance name came from my Arabic teacher, who gave us all Arabic names for conversation practice in class at UW. Zanbaka is Egyptian colloquial for lily or white flower. When it came time to try out a few dance names, that one stuck, it wasn’t already being used, and I really like the meaning. Using dance names was kind of the norm in Seattle when I first began dancing, so it never seemed odd to me that I wouldn’t use my real name. Like Fariha, I also felt a little more comfortable using a stage name in such a big city for my own personal safety.

I strongly feel that choosing to use a dance name or not should be entirely up to the individual and we should respect each other’s choice of doing so or not. (And I hope I’m not hijacking the thread, here.) I’ve heard some pretty ridiculous generalizations on the topic over the years. Tribal dancers never use stage names, Tribal dancer always use dance names, Cabaret dancers don’t use dance names, Cabaret dancers always use dance names, We don’t use stage names because strippers use dance names, We don’t use dance names because we’re being our true selves on stage, Taking a stage name is Orientalist, Other genres like Ballet, Modern, and Flamenco don’t use stage names.

Well, you know what? I’ve dedicated the last decade of my life to studying, researching, writing about, and teaching many styles of bellydance. I eventually decided to major in NE Languages and Civilization. And much of that last decade has been spent studying flamenco, where most Flamenco singers, musicians and dancers do take on or are given stage names that are often funny… a good reminder not to take ourselves too seriously, no?

(Most) art, music, dance has no language, religion, or political association. Art is what makes us civilized. Art is a vessel for understanding between cultures. I think if we could take this gal out to a really excellent bellydance performance and go out for some conversation over tea afterwards, we’d all wake up feeling better about each other in the morning.

I apologize in advance if I'm repeating a point that's already been made, since I haven't been able to read through all the responses.

This article did not make me feel defensive at all. Maybe because I saw it less as a criticism of belly dancers (such as myself), and more of a rant against a cultural stereotype. I can see how it can be frustrating to feel like your culture is being overly simplified and diluted and/or that people have a wrong impression of you due to a common stereotype.

However, it's exceptionalist to think you and your culture are the only ones who go through this. We all go through this. My East Asian friends get asked if they're black belts in a martial art. Most of them haven't even taken a martial arts class.
When I tell people I'm from Brazil, they always mention carnaval. Guess what? I hate carnaval. So, just because I'm Brazilian I'm expected to enjoy dancing around in the streets suffocated by the surrounding crowds of drunk, sweaty, people and the smell of piss to watch a parade of naked women? I'm not into that, and the fact that you appreciate that aspect of Brazilian "culture" won't make you any more relatable to me.

This is how I think the author feels towards belly dance, and there's nothing wrong with that. But it's also life. Because no one can possibly know everything about a culture, everyone will always stereotype in one way or another. And, hey, the "they're all belly dancers" stereotype sure as hell beats the "they're all terrorists" stereotype.