Every artist makes the decision consciously or unconsciously to what level of perfection they will aspire. For the belly dancer it is a decision with components—cultural, historical, gender, and aesthetic—other artists need not consider. “Ethnic police” tell us Western dancers will never achieve cultural perfection in their dancing; Western audiences don’t know the difference. Historically, our dance has been a social activity; only when Makmoud Reda staged Egyptian folk dance did it begin to take on a bit of the validity of other dance forms (which may also have subtracted much of its natural, childlike charm). Regarding gender, many belly dancers have obviously “enhanced” their bodies to achieve a more “perfect” Barbie persona, attractive to the Western ideal; looking at some of the images of female dancers in the past, one wonders where this kind of enhancement will take our dance?

Each dancer’s decision will become a two-edged sword. On one side are the over-rehearsed robots we see with no facial expression, perfectly choreographed movements, and eyes that seem to be . . . counting. On the other, we have ladies with swords dropping off their heads, dancers with lace remnants tied around their cargo pants and troupes that might better be called “dupes.” How can we make the right choices?

Spirituality plays a part. My new motto “Shimmy from the Heart” was born because I more enjoy watching those who express some degree of love in their art—a smile, a twinkle in the eye, a feeling of warmth exuding from them—in addition to expert shimmies from the hips or shoulders. My first teacher Angelika Nemeth said, “Dance to express, not to impress.” What do we have to express? Sexual power? Material wealth? Athletic abilities? Who are we trying to impress?

Psychological character plays a part. Some dancers never make a choreography even for themselves dancing at home in the mirror because of the fear of imperfections—cultural, historical, gender or aesthetic. I always tell my students, “This is belly dancing, not brain surgery. Nobody is going to die if you make a mistake. Try something.” Stage fright is part of this psychological angst, the fear of being judged less than perfect by the viewer. Remember, the physiology of stage fright is the same as that of excitement—sweaty palms, racing heartbeat, breathlessness. Let us stop calling it stage fright and start calling it excitement! Let us also choose to be loving in our critiques of other dancers; we will find that much stage fright will lessen or disappear.

Each performer of La Danse Orientale must look within to define perfection. A modern or ballet-trained dancer with perfect posture and instant total recall of choreographies will want to continue those skills in her belly dancing life, while also deciding to abandon the eyes-upward court dancing persona of ballet, or the introspection of modern dance—looking audiences in the eyes and smiling at them? An untrained dancer who happens to be cute enough to be getting dance dates based on looks, will be tempted to sacrifice technique for glory and a little money, before perfecting technique.

It takes time to become “perfect.” Do you have the time, space and motivation to drill yourself and/or your troupe to perfection? Time will tell. One’s ideas about perfection change over time. The young cute dancer is so perfect in herself that whatever she does has its own level of impeccability. The more seasoned dancer has the wisdom of familiarity and experience with movement and performance that says perfect in another way. Call it stage presence.
Each raks sharki program and its potential for elegance contains many other considerations: the dancer herself, her makeup, hair and costume, her body type, the music she chooses, her toenail polish, the glitter. Can every element really be perfect?

To Contact Jheri Email Her at jherico (at) cox (dot) net.

The commitment to excellence is a worthwhile goal rarely realized in the human experience. Oriental carpet weavers include one error in the pattern of each rug they make because they wish to remind us in wool threads that humans are not perfect and their creations can never be perfect. Let us keep perfection in our vision as we gently accept where we are at the moment, continue growing as dancers, and always shimmy from the heart!