A Caution Thinly-Veiled in... Tartan: Will bellydance travel the same path as Scottish Highland dance?
by Pat Beaven
reprinted from The Caravan
There’s been much interest lately - at conferences and seminars, not to mention teachers talking amongst themselves – of various aspects of the standardization issue: the need for a curriculum and a standardized movement vocabulary for bellydance. All this with a view to preserving bellydance, and codifying the art so it can assume its rightful place among the classical dances of the world. So far, everything sounds good … but journey with me down the road of another dance form – Scottish Highland dance – that’s already been there. May their story be a beacon of light on a vast and perilous sea, providing parallels, insights, and hopefully a more informed perspective.
Like bellydance, Highland dance has a fascinating history, and a rich variety of steps and stylistic interpretations. Until the late 1950’s, teachers taught pretty much as they had been taught, which varied hugely depending on place of origin – Scotland, North America, or elsewhere – indeed which big city or small town or dance school they had trained at, whether a traditional or more contemporary orientation was in vogue at the time, whether a more graceful or “gymnastic” movement was popular. In the mid-50’s, it was decreed that an attempt should be made to get everything down in black and white in a syllabus, and to establish a world governing body (the Scottish Official Board of Highland Dance) which would standardize and preserve the art. The Board would set and regulate the technical aspects of all the methodology and styles being danced in Scotland and throughout the world. Granted, competition is a large aspect of the Highland dance scene, and this standardization was seen as a way that dancers could be judged equally; this reasoning made sense and did provide a more level playing field. But other consequences were less attractive …
The mechanics of the dance – the steps, points of technique, and the language we use to describe and record them – are necessarily the prime concerns of any standardizing body. How to determine what’s ‘correct’ can become an almost insurmountable and certainly a divisive challenge, often pitting valuable members of the dance community against one another. This happened in the world of Highland dance, leaving deep scars, opposing camps, and certain dancers and teachers forever branded ‘outcast’. The regimentation soon had dancers learning and performing to a rigid code. Highland dance became laden with rules at every turn, with an undue focus on the mechanics of the dance at the expense (many think) of grace and interpretation of movement. Of course it is up to the dancer to maintain high technical standards, but is it not also her/his job to communicate with the audience via the language of the heart? Too much emphasis on technique can cause the heart to be overshadowed. I remember seeing a poster at the post office advertising the ‘American Indian Dances Commemoratives’: it quoted Derrick “Suwaima” Davis, Hopi/Choctaw, “To watch us dance is to hear our hearts speak”. This message is surely appropriate for all cultures. And in affairs of the heart, there are no set rules, logic, or limits on acceptability of this arm movement or that. In Highland dance – as in bellydance – there are no million dollar pay cheques, and little recognition outside the specific dance community, so one of the pleasures of involvement must be communicating the essence of a culture and the pure joy of movement.
Far from preserving the art, a regulating movement can have quite the opposite effect. Only certain steps and certain dances are recognized, only these continue to be taught, and as a result, the field narrows ... eventually causing the loss of both dances and the culture. Then we must take care that what does remain is not so restricted and homogenized that it becomes a static, regimented, even anaemic display. In my perception, this is what happened to Highland dance – I call it the demise equation: fewer dances + fewer steps + less variety in the way they’re performed = less interest.
Highland dance performances today compared with those in pre-Board times seem fairly insipid, eliciting polite applause rather than the hoots and cheers and unbridled enthusiasm such a vibrant dance form deserves.
As I mentioned earlier, determining which movements, steps, dances, etc. are ‘correct’ and should win the seal of approval and inclusion is a gargantuan undertaking - one fraught with ego issues, conflict, and the potential for turning dancer against dancer, and dividing the dance community irreparably. All dancers/teachers will never be in agreement; in Highland dance, this resulted in the scene coming to belong to a ‘closed shop’ few. Rebels were branded and denied credentials, and thus validity. Students who did choose to avail themselves of the expertise of these (some quite excellent) teachers regardless of this, were faced with a discriminatory policy as the Scottish Official Board became more and more powerful and eventually gained a monopoly in the USA and Canada. These dancers were not allowed to compete, but what’s worse, were decreed to have no pedigree. Needless to say, the actual dance was the loser.
I’m not suggesting that some sort of attempt at standardization is a bad idea, just that it’s a big idea. An idea sure to be debated, deliberated, and dissected over and over again in the bellydance community. Let’s look at it closely, let’s keep the dance first, and let’s be willing to learn from the experiences of others who have travelled the path.