Welcome to Suhaila Unveiled, the official e-newsletter for Suhaila Salimpour, the Suhaila Salimpour School of Dance, and Suhaila Productions.

Greetings!

I can look back on this last month and see a full body of work.  From the solo show with an amazing 6 piece live Arabic band performing classical cabaret, to the Rakkasah performances being both the Tribal with Bal Anat on Saturday, and the Rock Fusion with the Suhaila Dance Company on Sunday.  I must say that being able to do a three generations dance with my mother and daughter was a highlight in my life.  I don’t think my make-up stayed on, but I was in heaven.  I want to thank all the Bal Anat and Suhaila Dance Company members for all their hard work and practice.  It was a wonderful show both days and you made this year yet another fabulous experience.

Just returning from a wonderful workshop weekend in Atlanta.  It had been over two decades since I had the opportunity to teach in Atlanta and it was nice to return with some of the same faces that I remember from the first workshop that Aegela and Alima produced.  Terzra was the sponsor for the weekend and her production was flawless and the weekend was wonderful.  Thank you Tezra.  And thank you to all the women whom supported the event and brought the great energy that was in the room.  And a special thank you to all the performers that made the show so fantastic and full of integrity. 

I would also like to congratulate the amazing women in the Washington DC workshop who passed the Level I Certification Test.  Welcome to the Certification family!  The workshop was positive, high energy and definately sweaty!  Also, thank you Marta and Kim of DC Tribal for putting on the event and taking special care of all the little details.  Not only did you take the workshop and certify, but you organized the entire event, including the special treat of the Saturday night hafla.  Thank you for the care you put in to make this workshop successful.

Now with the Level II Weeklong Workshop coming up I look forward to working with a group of dancers that are excited to train really hard. 

Editorial by Suhaila®

We were driving to my first show after having my daughter, Isabella, and all I played the whole way to the theater was Ozzy Osbourne.  The entire way in the car I felt sick to my stomach.  I was tired, had been up all night with a 4 month old baby (Isabella had just turned 4 months), and the thought of putting on a costume and performing was so far from my energetic ability at that point that all I really wanted was a nap.  Just a little nap to get me through my next breast-feeding cycle.  But instead I was on my way to Cowell Theater in San Francisco for a show called Diamonds Shells and Amber which featured myself, Fat Chance Belly Dance, and Mahea Uchiayam’s dance company.  I had planned this show in my early stages of pregnancy and thought that 4 months would give me plenty of time to bounce back since I would probably just undulate the baby out, it seemed that I would have no problem getting back on stage.

We arrived to the theater just in time for me to whip out my breast pump and begin one of a few pumping needs for the day.  The dressing rooms were nice and big so we all had enough space for our costumes and egos.  It was perfect.  I already missed Isabella since she stayed home with my mother and each time I thought of her my boobs would fill up so fast with milk that it got very painful after the first two hours.  How much can a girl pump?  So I just tried to stay focused on my goal and that was to dance for myself and the love of this art form.  This was a very hard show for me since I had barely enough time to heal from my C-section other than think of being in tip top shape.  I felt this pressure to please the audience and each time I felt that desire to be “liked” by my audience I felt less and less like dancing.  Oh why did I agree to do this show anyway?  And how will I ever stop pumping long enough to dance.

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Gift of Youth

by Tiffany Bisconer

One of the most satisfying pieces of my dance life is the time I am able to spend teaching the kids belly dance class within the Suhaila Salimpour School of Dance.  In this role I am offered the chance to give back to this art form that has changed my life, by cultivating a younger generation of dancers.  I must say though, when Suhaila first brought up the idea of me being the one to teach the class, I was scared of the idea.  Knowing me, and my issues, she encouraged me believing that working with kids and watching them blossom would heal me and my jaded perspective on life and innocence.  Not wanting to teach Isabella herself so not to put herself in an instructor role with her daughter, was another motivating factor in having me teach the class.  Respecting her point of view as a mother, I felt honored to be in a position where I could be a teacher to Isabella, third generation dancer.  A huge part of my initial resistance came from my fear of being responsible for the dance lives of children.  I was frightened by the thought of not being able to be a good enough role model, that the children wouldn’t like me or feel safe with me and I wouldn’t know how to give a child the knowledge and experience they needed in order to grow to their full potential.  I felt like I was having an extreme overload of mothering fears before deciding to have a child, only in the scope of being responsible for many children all at once.  All the concerns of doing it right were eating at my confidence.  For me the mere thought of a child disliking me was so much more devastating than an adult not liking me!  Where adults have gathered biases, filters and, unfortunately, hang ups as baggage along the way, children stand innately genuine.  So, as I was somewhat quietly freaking out, we began the belly dance for kids classes.  I took my most graceful swan dive into the role hoping my feet would fit into the shoes that lay ahead of me.  Grateful for the opportunity, knowing I would do the best I could to grow into the role, my panic attacks subsided and I soon realized Suhaila again had seen past my fears and gave me the vision to see more potential in myself than I would’ve on my own if I had never been handed this responsibility.  Since my first day of class this has been one of the most rewarding experiences for me.

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Rashid's Old School Corner

THE RENAISSANCE PLEASURE FAIRE the first interactive website

PART I

         While Haji Baba gave us the first televised connection to belly dancing in the bay area, the “Renaissance Faire” was the first interactive experience for many people looking for the exotic, Bedouin/gypsy experience we have been craving for in this culture since the early civil rights movement of the 1960’s.  My girlfriend at 16, my first exposure to belly dance said, “If you like what I can do you should see this troupe at the Faire.” Already with a background in Theater and a great interest Shakespeare it seemed like a shoe-in.  We went that first year (72) in our Elizabethan costumes.  I even made my own shoes.  That first performance changed everything for me as I sat there affixed on a hay bale….

                                    BAL ANAT

         The dancers assembled themselves on the stage in a crescent.  They stood quietly talking amongst themselves and laughing, anticipating their endeavor.  The costumes, alive with so much color, textures and details, they executed a dance of their own by simply attiring the members of the troupe.  The musicians positioned themselves to the right of the dancers.  Dressed alike in the white muslin typical of North Africa and turbans binding each head, they sat readied with instruments. All eyes focused on the company’s director who stood upstage, center in the line.  The hot pink ostrich plume on her head bounced gently as she nodded and the performance began.

           The woodwinds screeched the first cord as drummers bent forward over the earthen ware instruments, causing them to pulsate in unison.  The dancers ululated and began a clatter and clashing of brass cymbals and rattles and percussion.  The attention of a thousand people had been captured.

         The drums pounded, horns reverberated with an exotic resonance and the dancers banged and clattered.  The music increased in tempo and the excitement built.  At the apex the horns trilled, the drums rolled and a gong was struck.  Again the gong sounded and the horns droned a mesmerizing note.  A part was made in the line and a figure shrouded in black was led center stage.  Again, the gong.  The figure stood motionless for an eternity.  Suddenly as the last, the gong reverberated and the shroud dropped, revealing a masked woman.  Her brow furrowed, eyes wide with excitement, the mouth slightly open and breathless, she a figure in awe of the mysticism of life and creation.  Her curly black hair was entwined with ivy and cascaded down her back. Her neck and arms were bedecked with primitive talismans, bones, feathers and icons of the “Golden Age.”  She was bedecked in cowrie shells, her torso bare.  Her skirt fell the floor and was covered in shiny geometric designs.  With a gesture of benevolence to the audience she began her mime of nature, fecundancy and her role as the Great Earth Mother.  She stood in an attitude of blessing when finished and was silently covered again and led off the stage.  The audience released a long held breath.

         The tempo changed and accelerated as three women moved out of the line.  The dance,Turkish, the movements languid and staccato.  They spun across the floor and at times in place, turning themselves upside-down with ease.  The dresses they wore were made of sparkling metallic fabrics in aqua and rose, accented by stripes in their pantaloons.  Their heads in kerchiefs, their hips accented with fringe, silk scarves as they moved around the stage playing finger cymbals against each others hands.  One more spin, finishing with a drop to the knee, arms framing their heads which slid side to side with the beat.  Complete, they stood up and retreated to the line.

         As they backed up, another dancer moved forward.  The rhythm changed and she slid forward to the beat like a ripple of an ocean wave.  In her hands she held a saber.  She was dressed head to toe in the geometric fabric of the masked dancer.  Her girdle was cut to accent the geometric patterns on her dress.  A heavy silver bracelet adorned her ankle.  She moved to center and unsheathed the weapon which sparkled in the afternoon sun.  Placing it on her head, she maneuvered it into a balanced position and began to ripple across the stage like a snake.  The members of her company cheered her on with shouts and ululations.  Moving forward again, her pelvis began to shimmy as her torso continued to ungulate, the sword still upon her head.  She stopped long enough to remove it and tilting her head back she placed it on her chin. Once there she bowed her body backing an arch until her hair began to collect on the floor.  Holding the position just long enough to prove herself, she unfolded to the applause of the crowd. Her tattooed face smiled coquettishly and she again placed the word upon her head and began to spin.  Moving slowly at first she built up speed until suddenly stopping her motion to allow the saber to spin on the crown of her head.  Catching it with her hands, she backed into the line with a rolling pelvis, like a set of disjointed wagon wheels.  The audience cheered.

To be continued......