Ranya Renee, Revelations, Motherhood, Dancing

February has been a busy month for dance. In all honesty, there have been a plenitude of workshops every month and I now have to choose carefully because I need to get childcare. When Ranya Renee came to RI, I couldn't turn it down. I already had missed her the year before, because it conflicted with Randa Kamal in Montreal. She will also be in New Hampshire in May, but the length of the drive prevents me from going in my new-mom status. I have been a fan of Ranya Renee since I got her baladi video last year. Her down-to-earth teaching style, with the heavy emphasis on visualizations, really works for me. She also has a ton of knowledge about Egyptian dance. I wasn't sure however how I felt about the workshop topics – Balancing Act (balancing props) and Character In Dance. I confess I thought I would have preferred something more dance-y. But I got so much more, something longer lasting.

One cool thing that happened is that Ranya recognized me from Facebook and my Amazon reviews of her DVDs. Nothing puts you at ease around a star than when the star already knows YOU. This is also why I don't review bellydance products I don't enjoy. By the way, she is coming out with several more DVDs, some on musical interpretation, taxim, and finally her classical oriental DVD. From now on I will be buying directly from her website, because after talking to Nadira last night and Ranya today, I know now that the artists do not make as much money on Amazon purchases.

As I told the gal I drove down there with, the first workshop was great, but it paled in comparison to the second. In the first workshop, we learned to balance tray. However unlike other balancing workshops or videos I have taken, Ranya went to a deeper level. Making turns, spins, and complex movements while balancing a tray has a secret, and that secret comes from your nightclub door – which should always be guarded by a bouncer. Yes, you shouldn't leave the backdoor of your nightclub open! Don't know what I'm talking about? You should spend some time with Ranya. Her analogies are hilarious, apt, and really make you aware more than anatomical exactness could. At any rate, between the breathing methods and extending away from the floor, I really felt that the work I have done lately with yoga and Ruby's floorwork DVD came in handy. Yes, we did floorwork with an Egyptian instructor – it's part of doing Shamadan.

The second workshop delved deeper into ourselves. Both workshops revealed a method of breathing into your back, through your softly open mouth, breathing with every movement and with the music. I have been working on breathing with the music, but I did find it difficult to breathe through my mouth because yoga teaches you to breathe through your nose [and she explained why!]. I came to several realizations…although I often do just let the joy pour out of me, I also do feel compelled to smile and can't turn it off. Sometimes (I would say in performance often) that smile is genuine, but at other times, it reveals a forced set of the jaw. Ranya pointed out that breathing through the mouth has a different feeling, more of an energy exchange, more open, more sharing – and it forces you to be in touch with yourself. I found it extremely difficult to breathe with my mouth softly open and not smile. In fact, all I could do when breathing this way was really sink into myself and the music. I couldn't be in my head – I had to be in my body – in my SELF. Any attempt to do anything else felt uncomfortable or I would have to stop breathing that way.

Ranya had some great ideas for visualizing, like embodying that welcoming feeling of your entrance piece by painting rainbows on everyone and everything within the performance space. That you are giving beauty to the people around you, painting beautiful garments on them, putting up decorations around the space that you're dancing in. I work very well with visualizations, and since the entrance song is often where we (I) feel the most nervous – having a mental focus could really help me. You know, these things do not sound nearly as cool when you write them down, much as many dancers lose their sparkle when reduced to a youtube video. You really HAD to be there.

We also worked with characters, even exploring the "negative" characters – the bitch and the slut. My bitch smiles, it turns out. Ranya focused on bringing out characters within ourselves, rather than exploring, say, typical Arabic woman characters. It seemed that Ranya's workshop had a strong focus on being the authentic woman (or man) within. I have to confess I was moved and empowered by today's workshop, some of the things she talked about, that I could not do justice by repeating. Everyone has their way of accessing certain aspects. My experience of motherhood, of giving birth, has given me a certain awareness of my body and I thought about that today. Clearly, it's not the only path to that awareness, since Ranya Renee doesn't have kids but she is clearly in touch with her power center.

I may not go to many more workshops this year. I am really glad for the ones I attended, but they haven't been easy. Not as the mother of an infant. Today's workshop only had a 30 minute break. In that time, I had to eat as well as pump. Despite this being a woman-focused art form, I'm still uncomfortable pumping in front of others, so I always end up in a tiny restroom. I have to use most of the break doing that. If the workshop is far away, it makes it even more difficult, extending the time I'm away from my son. Not only do I need to make sure we have enough milk at home for him, I then am away for longer and therefore need more breaks for pumping. I realize I am away every work day for 8 hours, but it's different since we have a nanny and my work provides a comfortable room for mothers. Today, the workshop ran longer than expected, and apparently my son started to cry for me around 6:15 onwards. I got home at 7pm, and I just wanted to connect with my son. He goes to bed around that time, and I won't see him again until early morning. I really miss him and while it was worth it, I have a feeling that's my last workshop for the year. I'm so glad I am taking him with me to the hafli tomorrow. Truly, being a mother changes you!

Speaking of which, there was a big to-do in Facebook today about a certain local restaurant that is now cutting dancer's pay and expecting them to dance for free if they get enough tips. I am disappointed, in yet another restaurant where dancers are not being valued as we should be. It is probably fortunate that I am also at a point right now where I would rather stay home with my son while he is so young, rather than go out and dance for less than I am worth.

The Dancer Re-Emerges

Many dancers this year are having or have had babies, not only in my local region, but on the national scene as well. Michelle Joyce, Amar Gamal, Dondi, Bahaia, Oreet. It seemed that every dancer was having a baby. And I too, was pregnant with a little boy.

I danced almost daily until the last month of my pregnancy, performing at eight months. I was still going to classes and not much had changed for me, other than that I couldn't fit into a costume. I had no idea what was about to happen. But I was determined to keep dancing, no matter what.

The act of birth itself is no small feat, it turns out. I had quick and dramatic labor, and one of my lifelines through my natural birth was the soothing sounds of Middle Eastern taxims. I don't remember exactly what was playing when Kai was born, but I believe it was actually a baladi progression. One of the first times I stood up in the hospital, I held him and swayed to the melody of Bitwannes Beek, singing it softly for him. I was told to stay off my feet for the next two weeks to recover, not something a dancer wants to hear. However, during those first few months, a mother is entirely focused on her baby, learning how to care for him – and herself again. Nevertheless, dance was never far from my mind. I was afraid I would lose connection to it entirely, and with it, myself.

My body was completely unfamiliar to me, neither the full fruitful bounty of pregnancy nor the muscular tautness from before. I had strong abdominals and pelvic floor even after pregnancy, because I had never stopped dancing, but my strength was not what it was. And my back ached from leaning over and holding this baby all day long, so my straight posture had grown hunched. When I went to Rakkassah to shop, I was horrified to find that costumes no longer fit me off the rack, as they used to. And I didn't see any time in my future to put make up on and wash my hair, let alone get a mani/pedi! I despaired of ever returning to Middle Eastern dance as anything more than a hobby.

I needed my spouse to come home early to watch him if I was to take classes, and I couldn't be away for long. For a while, I took him along with me to class, until he started to need me to hold him throughout the class (or else he would cry). Everyone thought he was adorable, but I couldn't concentrate on my dancing when I also had to care for him. Now, I did have maternity leave, so I fell into a rhythm of finding time to dance at home while he slept. I remember working my way through an entire Dr. Mo meleya leff choreography, taking breaks when Kai would awaken. Once I returned to work, it became near impossible to go to class or practice at home. My spouse suggested that I have private lessons at the house, and so now I have private lessons with Susi and Najmat once a month or so. It's not the same as going to class, seeing my friends, so I also managed to start going back to Amira Jamal's class, which starts later in the evening.

The most intimidating thing I had to face was returning to public performance. Before I even gave birth, I set up my next date at the Middle East – in November. I hadn't danced there for a year at that point. On top of that, I was coming back as a "professional", a paid dancer. I had a longer set and, for myself, a lot of expectations to live up to! The first performance may have gone well, but I was too nervous to enjoy it. But, with that out of the way, my next performance – at Za-Beth's holiday hafli – felt like a triumphant return, and the next time I danced at the Middle East, I was my old confident self again. Now, I find myself dancing at Basha Café on Saturday.

Although I can't do everything I used to do, I can apparently still be a professional dancer. I do find the time to put on my make-up and get my gig bag together, and to practice at home from time to time. Kai enjoys watching me improvise, if I treat him as an audience member, and he loves middle eastern music, wiggling along to the beat on the floor. He sleeps earlier now, and I find that's a great time to work with some videos, build my strength and flexibility with pilates and yoga, or simply work with some of my favorite pieces of music. I am losing weight almost effortless and my body is returning to a shape I recognize as each month passes. I even found that I was able to fit into most of my old costumes.

It has only been six months since Kai was born, and that hardly seems like a long time to have taken a break. I see now that I didn't really ever take a break from dance, because I need to have this in my life. But I don't think I needed to be nearly so afraid of losing it forever. That said, I don't think I'll be having another baby any time soon. One wonderful baby is just fine.

My performance at Za-Beth's Holiday Hafli (referenced above)