A small but enthusiastic audience enjoyed a taste of Middle East dance Saturday, when the Mountain Gypsies took their magic carpet to the Dunsmuir growers market. Performing under a theme of ‘cabaret,’ five women drew from the ancient craft of belly dancing, with its motions of belly rolls, shoulder circles and snake arms, and blended in more modern moves associated with chorus line, rock and disco.
The show opened with each dancer in a solo performance, each in an individual costume she herself had made, each in turn moving to music she selected and in a way she interpreted. One dressed in brightly-colored flowing veils, another in black leather. One danced to a string and tambourine CD, another to techno-beat with heavy bass. One moved with ancient Persian fluidity, another with a cane as if in a vaudeville routine.
The different looks and styles of each dancer embraced the general philosophy of the group. “Dancing solo, the individual personality gets to shine,” explained choreographer Brenda Woods between sets. The individual is respected as part of the whole. “It's not like other forms of dance, where you're locked into a certain role in the troupe,” she said. She described an inclusiveness where any member could bring music to rehearsal, during which the group would decide which tracks to use.
Daughter and mother
It all began about eight years ago when Woods, a deep tissue masseuse with a background in modern dance, called her mother, Barbara Eastman, and asked if she would be interested in joining Woods in her belly dance lessons. During class they met the third founding member of their troupe, Sandra Hood. Once the three women gained the necessary skill and confidence, they began to hire out for local performances and eventually attracted two more dancers to their group, Lynell Allen and Ruth Peddinghaus.
All five Mountain Gypsies danced together for the second act of their performance Saturday. It began with each moving slowly, carefully, with a sword balanced on her head. Then, in a demonstration of Old World muscle isolation technique, they stretched their arms and rocked their hips without moving shoulders or head, and each kept her sword balanced, nearly motionless. They finished with two-handed flourishes, their blades moving in practiced unison.
Swiss army knife
As Woods was called the choreographer, Hood was known as the Swiss army knife. The title referred to her versatility, often displayed by having just the right prop or idea for an act. Now the receptionist for Castella Fire Protection District, Hood can hardly remember when she did not dance. “When I was a little girl, I wanted to dance with Fred Astaire,” she said. She began taking Middle East dance lessons more than 20 years ago, and said that she really took to it.
“It expresses all forms and ages of women. Young and old, skinny and queen-sized. You don't need to necessarily have an hour glass figure. The older women dance better and teach the younger.” She shared that it was her birthday, and that through dancing she celebrated life.
Woods emphasized this use of the art. “A lot of time this kind of dance is misunderstood as something sexual,” she said. She mused that it may have at one time been used to attract a husband, but not now. “It's important for our group to celebrate all forms of women – little girl, mother, old crone – all embodied in carrying on an ancient art.”
The show alternated between solo and group dances. During solos, the rest of the troupe sat out of the hot sun under a canopy, and accompanied the portable CD player with drums and zils, tiny cymbals worn on the fingers. They also cheered during performances with yips and trills commonly used by Middle Eastern tribal women.
‘Making the jam better’
“We're a tribe,” said Allen, receptionist for Bill Heilman's CPA office. Her grandmother having come from Lebanon, she is the only Gypsy who actually claims a Middle East heritage. She remembered when she was a child she would see her grandmother dancing while working over the stove when making blackberry jam. “I'd ask her, 'What are you doing, grandma?' and she'd say, “I'm making the jam better,'” Allen said. “I realized later she was belly dancing.”
Allen herself did not begin dancing until later in life. “I started when I was 45,” she said. “This inner drive took me to belly dancing, and then it took on a mind of its own.”
In contrast to the bright colors in the costumes of all the others, Allen dressed in mostly black, with shades of gray and lots of silver jewelry. She also danced in a freer style saying, “I pretty much do what my body says when the music plays.”
‘May I dance with you’
Peddinghaus was dressed in accordance to her interpretation of the cabaret theme. “Gold on gold,” she said. She waitresses at the Black Bear Diner when not working her small farm in McCloud. She was the last member to join the troupe.
With a strong background in athletics – basketball, volleyball, track and the like – she said this form of dance helped her find a more feminine expression for her body. “Belly dancing challenges the body on many levels, muscle isolation, music interpreting and the creativity of movement itself,” she said.
She said that she had studied the art for two years before finding the others “I came up here two years ago and saw them dancing right here,” she said, pointing at the growers' tents erected along the sidewalk. “I approached them and asked, 'May I dance with you?'”
She said the first tribal music she brought to the group resonated among the women. “We've been together two years and it's always been harmonious,” she said. “Dancing is the main objective. Everything else is set aside.”
When the show came to an end, each player took a bow, with Hood introducing them in their dance names. Woods was Sabirah, her mother Eastman was Joharrah. Peddinghaus was Zamirah, while Hood herself was Xandria. None of these women could explain much about their dance names. Again the exception, Allen said she had adopted the Arabic name given to her by her grandmother. “It's Haleema,” she said. “It means kind, generous and mild-mannered.”
Expression of joy
Afterward, Eastman shared how glad she had been that her daughter had called her into the world of belly dancing eight years ago. “It's a wonderful physical activity,” she said. “It's low impact to the body, and I get to dress in wonderful costumes.”
She revealed that she is 71 years old. She said she had taken right to belly dancing stating, “Moving the hip and spine and rib cage like that is very therapeutic. I am really lucky to have this mobility at my age.”
And she, too, expressed her view of dance as a form of celebration. “It's expressing a lot of things, like our joy of being connected to nature and humanity and to life,” she said.
