ORIENTAL DANCING
From a race of artists Mohammed took away the freedom to paint or model
representations of living things. Yet the prohibition was a seed from
which sprang a garden of expression more graphic than paint, a school of
symbolism perhaps the most highly wrought the world has seen.
Artist the Arab is, whether measured by tests of his command over
abstract symbol or--in such media as his religion permits--vivid
portrayal of nature. Of concrete things and occurrences he has the alert
observation of a reporter. Upon what he sees he ponders; intensely
religious, he sees the hand of Allah in many things, draws morals, and
seeks meanings.
His nomad forefathers mastered the geography of the stars, in search of
a celestial message. Though the message be still unread, mathematical
problems that vex the learned in academies amused the Arab when the race
was young. Written numerals he invented, occult relations he sees in
their functions. And, underlying all, he has a passion for intellectual
order.
Geometry is the educated Arab’s plaything; from long practice he can
project its figures upon the wall of imagination, free of the need of
pencil. Owing to this practice, perhaps, his thoughts express themselves
in the form of images. His literature is crowded with them, vivid
sketches thrown before the mind’s eye; each a
[Illustration: ARABIAN “DANCE OF GREETING”
By Zourna
Called upon to dance, she reveals herself (1)--Salutation (2)--Profile
view of same (3)]
[Illustration: ARABIAN “DANCE OF GREETING” (_Continued_)
“For you I will dance” (4)--“From here you will put away care” (5,
8)--“Here you may sleep” (6)--“Here am I” (7)
To face page 197
]
symbol more eloquent than description, a metaphor more compelling than
logic.
As astronomy was born of the search for meanings in the stars, so the
search for mystic functions among the figures of geometry evolved a
school of decoration that drowns the eye in pleasure, baffles the mind
to explain. From square and compass spring the best of the interlaced
ornament of the palace of Alhambra--the ornament that raises material
things to a plane almost exempt from material limitations. And not the
designer alone gleaned from the geomancer’s play with line. Experiments
profitless to the magician yielded of their magic to the architect, to
the end that he was able to make of a gateway a song of thanksgiving, of
a square tower a hymn of aspiration--and these, if it suited him, by the
magic of proportion alone, without the aid of any adornment whatever.
Such a race, if it could have painted and drawn, would have produced
artists superlative in more than one direction. Clear observation and
the wit to discern significances would have made satirists and
commentators of the most subtle kind. In picture, the Arab metaphor
would have been better expressed, even, than in words, which often seem
a weak translation of a graphic symbol in the Arab story-teller’s mind.
As to decoration, it seems inevitable that with knowledge of the figure
and freedom to use it, the Moors that adorned Alhambra’s inner walls
could have painted such designs as are not even dreamed of; for their
designing--so far as its field extended--was to Occidental designing in
general as evolved musical composition is to arrangement by guess-work.
All these things the Arab must have done as a painter. Yet despite the
injunction depriving him of life as material for picture and sculpture,
and indeed because of it, he has evolved an art in which painting and
sculpture unite to express the human emotions through the medium of the
human form. That art, of course, is dancing. He has dignified it with
his accumulated knowledge of decoration, imbued it with the mystic
symbolism of his speculative mind. In light mood it narrates the passing
occurrence or the amusing anecdote. And not the least of the wonders of
the Arab dancing is the emphasis it places upon the beauty of womankind.
Instead of movement, as in most European dancing, its essential interest
is in a series of pictures, charged with significance and rich in
harmony of line. The eye has time to dwell upon a posture, to revel in
the sensuous grace into which it casts body and limb. To complete the
task of sculptural composition, the Arabic dancer studies to a rare
completeness the art of eliminating the many natural crudities of
position that prevent arms, legs and body from showing to the utmost
advantage their physical perfection. Though the material body does
not--in the work of a genuine artist--distract attention from sculptural
nobility of pose, neither is physical attractiveness lost sight of in
the beauties of the abstract.
That the treasure-house of Arabian choreography never has been really
opened to Occidental eyes is probably due, as much as to anything else,
to the Arab’s inability to contribute any explanation to a thing which,
by his way of thinking, explains itself. He has seen no dancing except
that of his own race. To him Arabian dancing is not Arabian; it is just
dancing. In his eyes the mimetic symbols are as descriptive as spoken
[Illustration: ARABIAN “DANCE OF GREETING” (_Continued_)
“And should you go afar” (9)--“May you enjoy Allah’s blessing of rain”
(10)--“And the earth’s fullness” (11)]
[Illustration: ARABIAN “DANCE OF GREETING” (_Continued_)
“May winds refresh you” (12)--
“Wherever you go” (13)--
“And your slave” (16)
“Here is your house” (14)--
“Here is peace” (15)
]
words. Except he could see them with Occidental eyes, he would see
nothing about them to explain.
Europe has seen the Arabic work, and enjoyed it for its ocular beauty.
Gérome, Constant, Bargue and others have painted its sinuous elegance
with admirable results. But no insight into its motives has become
general, nor has any key to its meaning heretofore been printed, so far
as can be ascertained, in any European language.
America still further than Europe has been excluded from satisfactory
acquaintance with the Oriental, because it has been so rarely presented
here except in a manner to defame it. At the World’s Fair in Chicago,
where we saw it first, its sinuous body-movement caused a shock. Along
that line opportunist managers saw profit. Sex--an institution whose
existence is frankly admitted by every civilisation except our own--was,
under managerial inspiration, insisted upon to the exclusion of every
other motive of the dance; and insisted upon in such a manner as to make
it repulsive. Ruth St. Denis has gone far in removing the resulting
stigma from the art of India and Egypt. That the prejudice is not going
to persist in the face of a national common-sense and love of beauty is
further indicated in the reception met by the work of Fatma a couple of
seasons ago in _The Garden of Allah_; a Moroccan woman, doing work
unreservedly typical of her country, always received with delight by the
audience, and never regarded from the wrong point of view.
The mission of calling Western attention to that which lies below the
surface of Arabic dancing, however, appears to have remained for Zourna,
the Tunisian. To her it is possible, by virtue of a point of view
resulting from a dual education, Mohammedan and European.
Zourna is the daughter of an Arab father and a French mother, who lived
in Tunis. In childhood she was taught the Arab girl’s accomplishments,
dancing included; but an occasional visit to France enabled her at all
times to see her African way of living somewhat as it would appear to
the European. In the natural course of events she married; destined,
however, to a short time of enjoyment of the dreamy dancing of the
sheltered harem. The death of her husband and loss of fortune drove her
to dance in cafés. That genus of work she had time to learn well before
Fate again intervened. A chain of circumstances brought her an
opportunity to study ballet in the French Academy. It was not her medium
of expression, but it gave her a clear measure of the difference between
the Oriental and Occidental philosophies of the dance.
Of formulated dances the Arab has few, and those no more set than are
the words of our stories: the point must not be missed, but we may
choose our own vocabulary. In terms of the dance, the Arab entertainer
tells stories; in the case of known and popular stories she follows the
accepted narrative, but improvises the movements and poses that express
it, exactly as though they were spoken words instead of pantomime.
Somewhat less freedom necessarily obtains in the narration of
dance-poems than in the recital of trifling incident; but within the
necessary limits, originality is prized. In the mimetic vocabulary are
certain phrases that are depended upon to convey their definite
meanings. New word-equivalents, however, are always in order, if they
[Illustration: ARABIAN “DANCE OF MOURNING”
By Zourna
The body approaches (1)--The body passes (2)--“I hold my sorrow to
myself” (3)
To face page 200]
[Illustration: ARABIAN “DANCE OF MOURNING” (_Continued_)
“He has gone out of the house and up to Heaven” (4)--“Farewell” (5)
To face page 201
]
can stand the searching test of eyes educated in beauty and minds
trained to exact thinking.
Nearly unlimited as it is in scope, delightful as it unfailingly is to
those who know it, Arabic dancing suits occasions of a variety of which
the dances of Europe never dreamed. In the café it diverts and sometimes
demoralises. In his house the master watches the dancing of his slaves,
dreaming under the narcotic spell of rhythm. On those rare occasions
when the demands of diplomacy or business compel him to bring a guest
into his house, the dancing of slaves is depended upon to entertain. His
wives dance before him to please his eye, and to cajole him into
conformity with their desires.
Even the news of the day is danced, since the doctrines of Mohammed
depress the printing of almost everything except the Koran. Reports of
current events reach the male population in the market and the café. At
home men talk little of outside affairs, and women do not get out except
to visit others of their kind, as isolated from the world as themselves.
But they get all the news that is likely to interest them, none the
less; at least the happenings in the world of Mohammedanism.
As venders of information of passing events, there are women that wander
in pairs from city to city, from harem to harem, like bards of the early
North. As women they are admitted to women’s apartments. There, while
one rhythmically pantomimes deeds of war to the cloistered ones that
never saw a soldier, or graphically imitates the punishment of a
malefactor in the market-place, her companion chants, with falsetto
whines, a descriptive and rhythmic accompaniment. Thus is the harem
protected against the risk of narrowness.
In the daily life of the harem, dancing is one of the favoured pastimes.
Women dance to amuse themselves and to entertain one another. In the
dance, as in music and embroidery, there is endless interest, and a
spirit of emulation usually friendly.
One of the comparatively formalised mimetic expressions is the _Dance of
Greeting_, the function of which is to honour a guest when occasion
brings him into the house. Let it be imagined that coffee and cigarettes
have been served to two grave gentlemen; that one has expressed
bewilderment at the magnificence of the establishment, and his opinion
that too great honour has been done him in permitting him to enter it;
that the host has duly made reply that his grandchildren will tell with
pride of the day when this poor house was so far honoured that such a
one set his foot within it. After which a sherbet, more coffee and
cigarettes. When the time seems propitious, the host suggests to the
guest that if in his great kindness he will look at her, he--the
host--would like permission to order a slave to try to entertain with a
dance.
The musicians, squatting against the wall, begin the wailing of the
flute, the hypnotic throb of “darabukkeh.” She who is designated to
dance the _Greeting_ enters holding before her a long scarf that half
conceals her; the expression on her face is surprise, as though honour
had fallen to her beyond her merits or expectation. Upon reaching her
place she extends her arms forward, then slowly moves them, and with
them the scarf, to one side, until she is revealed. When a nod confirms
the command to dance, she quickly drops the scarf to the
[Illustration: ARABIAN “DANCE OF MOURNING” (_Continued_)
“He slept in my arms” (6)--“The house is empty” (7)--“Woe is in my
heart” (8)
To face page 202]
[Illustration: ARAB SLAVE GIRL’S DANCE
By Zourna
A non-narrative dance, for the exhibition of personal attractions
To face page 203]
floor, advances to a place before the guest and near him, and honours
him with a slave’s salutation. Then arising she proceeds to her silent
greeting.
“You are implanted in your house,” says a movement [see photographs].
“Here is food, here may you sleep well. When you go forth, go you East,
West, North, South [indicating quarter-circles by pointing the toe], yet
you are here. May Allah’s blessings descend upon you. May the breezes
blow upon you, may the rain refresh you, may abundance be showered upon
you; yet may you remember that here you are in your house, and that here
is your slave.”
That is the lifeless skeleton of the story, without grace, or the
animation of movement, or the embellishment of expression. To try to
force words into an equivalent of the semi-ritualistic splendour of the
dance would be attempting to build a Moorish palace of dry grains of
sand.
In Occidental entertainment, when a performer has gained the sanctuary
of the platform, he is practically immune from interruption until his
“number” is finished--unless exception be made of “amateur night” in
vaudeville houses, where offenders are forcibly removed with a hook, or
suddenly enveloped in darkness. With that probably unique exception,
however, the audience confronted by an indifferent performer can only
summon patience. The Orient offers no such security, to the dancer at
least. At the first sign of failure to interest, a signal, perhaps no
more noticeable than the raise of an eyelid, commands the dancer to
cease. Not later, but instantly.
To interrupt a dance of movement without regard to its argument would be
worse than interrupting a story. It would not only undo the preceding
work; it would be very likely to arrest the artist in a transitional
position, in itself weak. At all events, such an interruption would
painfully mar an entertainment programme. But the Arabian dance is not a
dance of movement; it is a dance of pictures, to which movement is
wholly subordinate. Each bar of the music accompanies a picture complete
in itself. Within the measure of each bar the dancer has time for the
movements leading from one picture to the next, and to hold the picture
for the instant necessary to give emphasis. At whatever moment she may
be stopped, therefore, she is within less than a second of a pose so
balanced and sculptural that it appears as a natural termination of the
dance. The Oriental’s general indifference to the forces of accumulation
and climax are consistent with such a capricious ending. In his dance,
each phrase is complete in itself; it may be likened to one of those
serial stories in our magazines, in which each instalment of the story
is self-sufficient.
To the Occidental unused to Oriental art, the absence of crescendo and
climax, and the substituted iteration carried on endlessly, is
uninteresting. Nevertheless, a few days of life among Oriental
conditions suffice to throw many a scoffer into attunement with the
Oriental art idea. Which is to soothe, not to stimulate. Moorish
ornament is an indefinitely repeated series of marvellously designed
units, each complete in itself, yet inextricably interwoven with its
neighbours. In music the beats continue unchanging through bar after
bar, phrase after phrase. The rhythmic repetition of the tile-designs on
the wall, the decorative repetition of the beats of music, produce a
spell of dreamy visioning comparable only to the effect of some potent
but harmless narcotic.
To the foregoing generality exception must again be made of the dancing
in cafés. While it conforms to the structure of a picture-complete-in-each-bar,
its treatment is more or less at variance with the idea of soothing. But
the symbolism is likely to lack nothing of picturesqueness. The
_Handkerchief Dance_ is characteristic of the type.
Of the two handkerchiefs used in this dance one represents the girl
herself, the other her soon-to-be-selected lover. She first takes a
corner of each handkerchief into her teeth, warming them into life. She
lays them parallel on the floor and indifferently dances around and
between them, to state her power to cross the line and return free from
entanglements of lover’s claims. Into the waistband of her trousers she
tucks opposite corners of both handkerchiefs so that they hang as
panniers: the hands pushed through show the panniers empty; she would
receive gifts. To show, too, that she can give, a flourishing gesture
releases a corner of each, to spill the imagined contents. Interest
progresses until as a climax she kisses one of the fluttering cloths,
slowly passes it downward over heart and body, and throws it in a wad to
the elected one. The token is his passport to her; and its return at any
later time is announcement that she no longer interests him.
One dance the Arabs have that is not associated with the idea of
symbolism, but is rather a vehicle for the display of technical skill
for skill’s own sake. It is the _Flour Dance_. On the floor a design is
drawn in an even layer of flour--a favourite figure is the square
imposed on a circle, familiar in Saracenic ornament. The dancer’s first
journey over the figure establishes a series of footprints; a successful
performance consists in planting the feet in the same tracks during
subsequent rounds. Difficulties can be added by crossings of the feet,
turns and other involutions, and multiplied by increasing speed. This
dance was mentioned in connection with the ancient Greek _Dance of the
Spilled Meal_, of which it may reasonably be supposed to be either a
direct descendant or a surviving ancestor.
There are a number of little dances popular in light entertainment. In
one, a woman in the act of eavesdropping is startled by a lizard
dropping on her back. Her efforts to get rid of it attract her husband
from his [imagined] conversation on the other side of the curtain. She
must now explain why she was standing at the curtain, and above all she
must appear calm. The comedy opportunity lies in her efforts not to
squirm away from the [imagined] lizard.
Another of these one-character sketches tells of the lazy washerwoman.
She enters steadying on her head an imaginary basket of linen. Arriving
at the edge of the stream she puts down the basket, kneels, and
indolently begins mauling and scrubbing the garments over the
half-submerged rocks. (And she turns the movements into poetry!) But her
attention wanders from uncongenial work. Whose hasn’t? one
sympathetically asks oneself as one watches. She looks up the stream,
and down; her eye sees beauties, and her mind finds subjects to wonder
about. She falls a-dreaming, and then asleep--still kneeling.
When she wakens, the other women have finished their work and gone, and
it is late. Not stopping to wring out the clothes that she hurriedly
collects from the
[Illustration: “HANDKERCHIEF DANCE” OF THE CAFÉS
By Zourna
The handkerchiefs symbolizing the lovers are animated with the breath of
life, but kept dissociated (1)--Brought into semi-association
(2)--Separated and dropped (3)]
[Illustration: “HANDKERCHIEF DANCE” (_Continued_)
She can dance about, between or away from them, indifferently (4)--Made
into panniers, the panniers express her willingness to receive, turned
inside out, her willingness to give (5)--One of the two handkerchiefs is
thrown to the selected lover (6)]9 pool, she throws them into the
basket. Humour is put into the artist’s mimicry of the poor woman’s
efforts to avoid the dripping water, while carrying the weight of a
basket of wet clothes balanced on her head. Embodying as it does both
dream-sentiment and comedy, the little pantomime is a pretty vehicle for
versatility.
A serious story is that of the Mohammedan woman who, against her
father’s wishes, has married a Jew. The representation opens with the
woman’s entrance to the room where her father lies dying. Her hair falls
loose in token of mourning or penitence. She kneels beside the
death-bed, and strips off her many jewels. Her vow to re-enter the fold
of Islam she shows by drawing a strand of her hair across her mouth,
suggesting the face-covering of the women of Mohammedan faith. The
father offers his hand to be kissed. Grateful, she slowly rises, crosses
the room, closes and bolts the door, in token of shutting out all but
the paternal faith.
The dance of mourning for the dead is a fixed composition only to the
extent of including certain accepted postures; their sequence is not
prescribed. “Here he lies dead; Allah takes him. I am as a fallen tree;
I am alone. He held me in his arms; we played together; and he was my
protector.” In such manner runs the widow’s lament for her departed
husband. Pulsing through all is the solemn beat of “darabukkeh”
undertoning the wails of mourners.
The Bedoui of the desert celebrate marriage, peace-compacts,
declarations of war and other happy occasions with a gun-dance, which is
known as a _Fantasia_ or _Fantaisie_. It in no way conforms to the
fundamentals of Arabic dancing, and in fact it is a dance in name only.
But it is joyous exceedingly. Approximately rhythmic rifle-firing is
continuous from beginning to end. Performers both mounted and afoot leap
and whirl in maniac confusion, shooting up, down and all around in merry
abandon. Dust, howls and powder-smoke attack ears, eyes and throat in
unison, and the only unhappy ones in the gay assemblage are those that
Allah wills to have been shot, stepped on by horses, or both.
Tangier is the setting of an occasional savage celebration of religious
fanaticism; and these celebrations, too, fall into a category of
quasi-dancing. They are demonstrations of a sect styled the Hamadsha. To
a deafening accompaniment of fifes and drums, a few leaders start a
crude hopping dance in the market-place. The number of participants
grows rapidly; excitement increases with the number, until, at a point
of frenzy, the leaping fanatics begin hacking their heads with axes. The
example is so contagious that small boys dash into the mêlée and snatch
axes from the hands of men, to inflict the same castigation. Christian
spectators frequently faint at the spectacle, but fascination holds them
at their windows until they are overcome. During the four hours or more
that the blood-spilling continues, as well as during a period before and
after, the street is a dangerous place for the unbeliever.
Ostrander, the traveller, while in Constantinople, found himself
unaccountably in the midst of a celebration differing in character from
those of the Hamadsha of Tangier only in the respect of being held at
night. The resemblance in all essentials indicates the existence of
Mohammedan undercurrents completely unknown to the Western world.
Egypt, notwithstanding centuries of Arab domination, preserves--or
re-creates--in her dancing the style shown in the carvings of the
Pharaoh dynasties. In contrast to the softly curving Arab movements, the
Egyptian’s definitely incline to straight lines. Gestures change their
direction in angles, rather than curves. Poses of perfect symmetry are
sought. Even when symmetry is absent, the serpentine, plastic character
of Arab movement is pertinently avoided. The sentiment of architecture
is cultivated; the head is not turned on the shoulders, nor the torse on
the hips, except as such relaxation is required in the interest of
pantomime. In movement and position the Egyptian seeks verticals,
horizontals and right angles. To the beauty of the work the severely
geometrical treatment adds an architectural quality almost startling in
its surety and majesty.
Egyptian form “toes out” the artist’s feet, so that they are seen
without perspective when the performer is facing the spectator.
Whether the dances of the Valley of the Nile established the conventions
of early relief carvings, or whether, on the other hand, the carvings
determined the character of the dances, is a question neither possible
nor necessary to decide. Both arts certainly were the expression of
rigid religious ceremonialism, and likely are twins. To-day the records
in granite are the subject of conscious study on the part of dancers. In
the past, too, they undoubtedly have been chart and compass to the
sculpture of ephemeral flesh and blood, that unguided might have
perished in any one of the thousands of generations of its existence.
In type of subject and motive the dances of Egypt resemble those of the
Barbary States, as above described. Mourning, homage and incident are
narrated in about the same vocabulary, the dissimilarity of technique
being comparable to a dialectic difference of pronunciation of a
language. On their commercial side the two are identical. In
tourist-ridden cafés of Cairo and Port Said, as in those of Tangier and
Algiers, girls dance what the tourist expects and wishes. In the Coptic
town of Esneh, dwelling in the ruined temples, is a community of people
known as Almées. They are literally a tribe of dancers, removed by a
khedive in former times from Cairo on grounds of impropriety. Dancing as
they do in the temples of five thousand years ago, they form a curious
link with antiquity. Their work, however, is said to be shaped to the
tourist demand.
Such dances, however, despite the insistence with which they are pushed
upon the attention of tourists, are not of the kind with which the name
of Egypt deserves to be associated. The mystic still dwells along the
shores of the Nile; but its votaries do not commercialise it, nor is it
a commodity that lends itself to sale and purchase, even were there a
disposition so to degrade it. One of the dances illustrated by Zourna
symbolises in terms as delicate as the most ethereal imaginings, the
awakening of the soul.
The body’s initial lack of the spiritual spark is represented by the
crossed hands, as bodies are carved on sepulchres. An imperceptible
glide through a series of poses so subtly distinguished from one another
that movement, from one moment to the next, is unseen, creates an
atmosphere mysterious and almost chill in its twilight gloom. Gropingly
the arms rise to the
[Illustration: “DANCE OF THE SOUL’S JOURNEY”
By Zourna
The soulless body (1)--Asks for the light of life (2)--Vision dawns
(3)--Inexpert in life, she walks gropingly (4)]
[Illustration: “DANCE OF THE SOUL’S JOURNEY” (_Continued_)
She draws aside the veil of the future (5)--Life is seen full and
plenteous (6)
To face page 211
]
position that symbolises prayer for the divine light--the hand below the
chin emphasising the upturn of the face, the upper hand suggesting the
flame. With awe the new intelligence gazes upon the world, open-eyed;
then it must draw aside the veil of the future. Fulness of life is seen
awaiting, which the dancer expresses by a gesture representing
roundness, the accepted Oriental representation of completeness and
richness. But wait! she will grow old, and with bent back will walk
stumbling at the heels of a camel. But a defiance to age and the future!
Now she is young; her body is straight and her limbs round. A defiant
expression of the joy of life follows, yet undertoned withal with
unforgettable sadness; movements of happiness, a face of tragedy.
The sombre majesty of the pictures, especially those of the search into
the future; the reverence-compelling mystery of the somnambulistic
movements--a hundred things about this dance raise it to the very
uppermost plane of its kind of art. So far beyond mere skill are its
movements, so completely alien to anything in Occidental knowledge, that
to Occidental eyes they are as unearthly as they are imposing. Reason
fails, chloroformed by beauty; the real becomes the unreal, the unreal
the real. Imagination is released from the tentacles of fact and time.
The future? It could be seen for the trouble of turning the head to
look; but what profit foreknowledge either of cuts or caresses?
Curiosity is for the very young. Better and wiser the lot of
ignorance....
Hypnotism of a kind? Granted. Finely rendered, this dance represents the
utmost development of the co-ordination of rhythm, sentiment, and
appropriateness of movement. That combination in its turn is
undoubtedly the essence of the Oriental magic that, since the world was
young, has enabled men to dream dreams and see visions. Among the newer
civilisations the emotional power of rhythm is as unknown as it is
untried.
The Egyptian’s passion for decoration is served by the dance, no less
ably than is his love of the metaphysical. In the homes of the rich
there is said to be a form of decorative choreography, like a ballet in
structure, that duplicates and animates a painted or sculptured frieze
on the walls of the room. The dancers enter one at a time, taking their
positions in turn under the figures of the frieze, copying each in pose
as they come into place under it. The intervals between poses are of
course enriched by carefully related movements, so that the line of
dancers, advancing together from figure to figure, shall move as a
harmonised unit. The scheme creates a manifold interest: the line of
dancers represents an animated version of the frieze; though it is seen
to move, its figures remain in a sense unchanged; yet to watch any one
performer is to see her change constantly. The human line and the mural
frieze collectively form a background for the work of a leading dancer,
who flits from place and duplicates the poses of such figures as she may
choose.
In another entertainment, descriptions tell of huge vases carried in and
placed back of the dancing space, as though they were decorative
adjuncts forgotten until the last moment. They are placed, and the
servants retire, just before the first dancer opens the programme. A
spectator unfamiliar with the diversion would notice that the vases were
elaborately ornamented with carved figures. These one by one relax their
archaic severity
[Illustration: “DANCE OF THE SOUL’S JOURNEY” (_Continued_)
But old age will come (7)--Grief will visit (8)--She shall walk with her
nose close to the camel’s foot (9)
To face page 212]
[Illustration: “DANCE OF THE SOUL’S JOURNEY” (_Continued_)
Yet now, from the crown of her head (10)--To the soles of her feet she
is perfect (11)
To face page 213
]
of pose and very slowly come to life. Keeping the colour of the stone
and without wholly losing its unbending character, each dances her
allotted number and returns to her pose on the vase.
The foregoing is by no means a complete list of Egypt’s dances of
decorative interest or occult significance. Dance representations of
subjects of everyday interest are also popular; there is one that
sketches a series of incidents connected with a hunt with a falcon. But,
as stated in another place, the choreographic taste of Egypt has many
points of similarity with that of the Arabs of all the southern coast of
the Mediterranean. Egyptian technique is distinct, its interpretation of
the abstract is marvellously developed, its union of the dance with
architecture is its own. But its taste in pantomimes of light motive is
already characterised without the addition of further examples.
Following Oriental dancing eastward toward India, its probable
birthplace, it is found to preserve with approximate consistency certain
general characteristics. The combined pantomimic and decorative use of
the arms, subject to regional ideas as to what comprises decorative
quality, runs through it all. The apparent freedom of chest, abdomen and
hips from any restricting inter-relationships, is an attribute of it
emphasised in some localities more than others; it decreases toward the
north, generally speaking. The women of Turkey compare with those of the
Barbary States in phenomenal flexibility and control of the abdominal
muscle--resulting in capability for a species of contortion not at all
agreeable when exaggerated.
A principle of all Oriental dancing is its frank acknowledgment of
avoirdupois. It employs none of the devices by which lightness is
achieved, choosing as its aim, rather, the representation of a plastic
quality that exploits rather than denies the meatiness of flesh texture.
The heel is not often raised high from the ground, and indeed the foot
is often planted flat. A mannerism intensely characteristic of the
Oriental use of the foot is a trick of quickly changing its direction
after it is set on the floor but before the weight of the body is
shifted to it; the twist may leave the heel stationary as a pivot, or
the ball. The effect is as though the dancer were making a feint to
deceive the spectator as to the direction of the next turn, and
doubtless such contribution to interest is the intent. It at least adds
intricacy, and directs attention to a pretty foot. Of the latter
adornment, whether covered with little Turkish slipper with turned-up
toe, or bare, possessors are impartially proud.
Mystery of movement in certain parts is a further characteristic
distinguishing the Oriental work from anything to be found in the
Occident, with the exception of certain tricks of the Spanish
Gipsy--tricks which, after all, furnish no exception, since they are
Moorish absolutely. The Oriental covers little space in her work. A
space large enough to kneel on would admit all that her art requires.
She has no leaps to make, nor open leg-movements. Much of the time she
has both feet on the floor, is active chiefly in arms and body. Much
more of the time her feet are engaged in steps hardly noticeable.
The foregoing observations on Oriental work apply more particularly to
the low latitudes than to lands farther removed from the equator. China
and Japan have a choreography like that of the Southern regions in some
respects; but their custom of bundling the dancer
[Illustration: MISCELLANEOUS ORIENTAL NOTES.
Dancing girls of Biskra.
Turkish Sword Dance.
Egyptian bas-relief, Metropolitan Museum, N. Y.
Japanese Dance of War.
Japanese Flower Dance.
The Hula-Hula Dance, Hawaiian Islands.
]
up in clothes is the cause also of differences so pronounced that they
had best be considered as of a different category. Purely as a
convenience, therefore, let it be understood that Japanese and Chinese
dancing shall be referred to by those names; and that the word Oriental
shall be understood to signify the dances of the sinuous-body type, to
which pertain those of the Arabs of North Africa and elsewhere, the
Persians, Turks and some others.
To the dancing of men, where any is done, generalities as to the style
of Oriental dancing fail to fit in many cases. Exceptions are not
numerous, however; because, if for no other reason, far the greater part
of Oriental dancing is done by women. Of the few exceptions some are
dances of religion, others of war.
An intoxicating _Sword Dance_ is practiced in Turkey. Like almost
everything else that is danced (or sung or acted) its merit of course
depends in great degree on the quality of its interpretation. Well done,
this Turkish _Sword Dance_ shows itself a composition of rare
individuality and a fine, wild beauty; for good measure, it is a sword
combat of a reality that threatens the spectator with heart failure. The
two combatants advance and retreat, accenting the music with clashes of
sword on shield; the interest is that of a barbarously beautiful dance
as long as they continue to face each other. Notwithstanding rapidity,
the chances are against a mishap. But when of a sudden both launch
themselves on a series of lightning _rond de jambe pirouettes_, the
scimitars sweeping around fast enough to cut a man in two if he should
fail to parry, the affair becomes a sporting event, and that of a kind
to harrow the nerves.
Turkey also is the place, or one of the places, where
[Illustration: “DANCE OF THE SOUL’S JOURNEY” (_Continued_)
Rejoices in the perfect body (12)--And in all good things (13)--Runs
from the scene (14)
To face page 216]
[Illustration: CHARACTERISTIC PANTOMIME IN DANCING OF MODERN EGYPT
By Zourna
Express sorrow (1, 3)--Represents a prayer directed downward and back;
_i. e._, to spirits of evil (2)
To face page 217]
Whirling Dervishes are educated for their curious calling. Mr. H. C.
Ostrander is authority for the statement that an apprenticeship of a
thousand days is considered a necessary preparation for proper
performance of this apparently simple act of devotion. Since nothing
whatever is attempted in step beyond that which the ballet-dancers call
“Italian turns,” it must be supposed that the art of the Whirling
Dervish has qualities that do not appear on the surface. It is taught in
monasteries scattered through the mountainous regions.
The Caucasus, that land less known than fabled, has dances of a fame as
persistent as it is vague. Its map is dotted with names immortalised in
the _Arabian Nights_. It is the setting of _Scheherazade_ and _Sumurun_;
a region whose inhabitants declare their intention never to become
Occidentalised, and whom no power is likely to push in any direction.
Being under the Czar’s dominion, most of its few visitors are Russians;
they alone among Occidentals possess any definite knowledge of its
choreography. Princess Chirinski-Chichmatoff, at present making it an
object of special study, writes the following in reply to an inquiry
from the authors:
“_Lezginkà_, the Oriental Dance of the Caucasus, was born in the
mountains of a beautiful country whose nature is wild and grandiose;
among a people courageous and energetic, who have preserved much of the
savagery and temperament of the Oriental races.
“The men of these people ... have the custom of never parting from the
poniard. They pass the greater part of their time horseback, always
prepared to meet an enemy and to defend the happiness and honour of the
family. To this day they retain the custom of answering for every
spilling of blood with a revenge; each victim has his victim. There
still exists the custom of abducting the fiancée from the paternal house
and carrying her away to one’s own. The women have all the timidity of
beings who live under the strongest of despotism. They have preserved
all the softness and grace of daughters of the Orient, with body
accustomed to careful attention and not to any physical work; who seek
only to rest, to look at themselves, and to enjoy the gifts by which
they are favoured by nature and usage. Under this exterior the woman
keeps covered many passions which sleep until the first moment of
provocation, when they break forth like the eruption of a
volcano--surrounding her with fire that sweeps with it any imprudent one
that happens to be near. Passion is the principal theme in the life of
an Oriental woman, and that sentiment she can vary like a virtuoso....
“You see her quiet, beautiful, relaxed, in the calm of a great fatigue,
with softness enveloping face and movements. Suddenly one detects an
unusual sound, a look cast, a movement--she is fired, she becomes fierce
and wild like all the Nature around her. You see before you a tigress,
beautiful, live and strong, ready to spring on the prey, playing and
attracting, making mischief and exhausting herself at the same time.
After which her movements become few, slow, tired and melancholy.”
“Thus is Oriental dancing built on contrasts; sentiments and moods
change unexpectedly. Gentle, relaxed and melancholy, of a sudden it is
brusque, animated, fiery. It has much coquetry, passion, and often
tragedy.”
In India dancing is sharply divided into the classes of sacred and
profane. In the latter division are to be
[Illustration: FROM THE DANCES OF THE FALCON
By Zourna
Shock as the bird strikes his quarry (1)--Rejoicing as he overcomes it
(2)]
[Illustration: DANCING GIRLS OF ALGIERS
To face page 219
]
[Illustration: RELIEFS ON TOWER OF THE TEMPLE OF MADURA (INDIA).]
found dances of ceremony, pantomimic representations of wide variety,
and eccentricities that almost trespass on the domain of
sleight-of-hand. The best known is a _Dance of Eggs_. The performer, as
she starts whirling, takes eggs one by one from a basket that she
carries, and sets them into slip-nooses at the several ends of cords
that hang from her belt. Centrifugal motion pulls each cord taut as soon
as it receives the weight of an egg. Finally all the cords, numbering
from a dozen to twenty, are extended, each bearing its insecurely
fastened egg. The dance is completed by collecting the eggs and
returning them unbroken to the basket.
Another diversion is the _Cobra Dance_ popularised in America by Miss
Ruth St. Denis--assisted by numerous imitators. One hand is held in a
shape to suggest the form of a cobra’s head, and huge jewels add a
striking resemblance to the creature’s eyes. The performer of the cobra
representation sits cross-legged. The hand suggesting the snake’s head
glides over the body, with frequent sudden pauses to reconnoitre; the
arm following it--in the case of Miss St. Denis so amazingly supple and
so skilfully made to seem jointless that it suggests the snake’s body
almost to reality--takes the appropriate sinuous movements around
shoulders and neck. The free hand completes that which at times is
almost an illusion by stroking and semi-guiding the head. Miss St. Denis
herself watches the hand with just the alertness and caution to convey
an impression of latent danger of which she, the snake charmer, is not
afraid, but which she must anticipate with keen attention. Withal she
never for an instant slips from her high key of grace, rhythm and style.
It is to Miss St. Denis that America and western
[Illustration: PERSIAN DANCE, PRINCESS CHIRINSKI-CHICHMATOFF
To face page 220]
[Illustration: REPRESENTATIVE ORIENTAL POSES
Miss Ruth St. Denis
Votive offering (3 poses)--Decorative motives (3 poses)--Disclosure of
person (1 pose)
To face page 221
]
Europe owe the greater part of their impressions of the dancing of the
Far East. She has given the subject years of study; with the object, far
more comprehensive than an imitation or reproduction of specific dances,
of interpreting the Oriental spirit. To this end Miss St. Denis uses the
structural facts of the various dances as a basis for an embodiment of
their character in such form that it shall be comprehensible to Western
eyes and among Western surroundings. The loss inseparable from the
adaptation of such a creation to the conventions of the stage, she
compensates--perhaps more than compensates--by a concerted use of
lights, colour and music, co-operating to produce a sense of dreamy
wonder, and to unite in the expression of a certain significance.
Her _Nautch Dance_, with its whirling fountain of golden tissue, she
sets in the palace of a rajah, where it serves a social purpose similar
to that of the _Dance of Greeting_ already described. The _Spirit of
Incense_ is an interpretation of the contemplative spirit that
accompanies Buddhistic thought and worship. _The Temple_--with which
Miss St. Denis remains an inseparable part, in the mind of every one who
has seen it--throws the spectator into an attitude of something like awe
at the rise of the curtain, so perfectly considered is an indefinable
relationship of magnificence and semi-gloom in the setting. An idol
occupies a shrine in the centre of the stage. After a stately ritual
executed by priests, the idol (Radha) descends and performs a _Dance of
the Five Senses_, glorifying physical enjoyment. Interwoven with
increasing manifestations of pleasure in the senses is a
counter-expression of increasing despair. The opposed sentiments reach
their climaxes simultaneously. Radha resumes her shrine, and the
attitude of endless contemplation, in token that peace of spirit lies
only in denial of sensual claims.
The technical character with which Miss St. Denis invests the Indian
representations is, first, the elimination of any movement that might
detract from a feeling of continuity. Every action proceeds in waves; a
ripple slowly undulates down the body, and even seems to continue on its
way into the earth; like a wave running the length of a cord, a ripple
glides from body through the extended arms and fingers, to go on
indefinitely through the air. Rapid movements are employed only enough
to meet the demands of variety. Long gesture, long line, deliberate
action and even colour quality are held in an indescribable rapport with
the insistent tempo with which the whole is bound together; there is no
escape from acceptance of the resultant multiple rhythm; it is
inevitable. A simple, rapid movement, therefore, introduced with due
consideration of all the parts of the complex, magic mechanism, has the
dramatic power literally to startle.
The success of the composition as a whole, in its purpose of conveying
an impression of the very essence of an aspect of India, is asserted
most emphatically by those to whom that mysterious land is best known.
To regard the production as an exposition of Indian dancing would be
quite beside the point. The dances, though wholly consistent with their
originals in point of character, are only a part of a whole. Nor do they
pretend to exploit the complete range of Indian choreography; Miss St.
Denis herself would be the first to disclaim any such intention. As she
explains her work, she uses the dancing of a people as a basis on which
to
[Illustration: JAVANESE DANCER, MODERN
To face page 222]
[Illustration: RELIEF CARVINGS, TEMPLE OF BOROBODUL, JAVA
Dance of Greeting [?] (1)--Dance of Worship (2)--An Arrow Dance (3)
To face page 223]
compose a translation of that people’s point of view and habit of
thought.
To exactly the same process Bizet subjected the music of Spain to
produce the score of _Carmen_; Le Sage to construct _Gil Blas_. Than the
latter there is nothing in Spain that could more quickly acquaint a
foreigner with certain aspects of “Españolism.”
A link with antiquity is furnished by multitudinous carvings of dancers
on Hindu and Buddhistic temples in India and Java. The temple in Java,
some of whose sculpture is here reproduced, was recently rediscovered
after several centuries of burial in a jungle. It is known to be at
least eight hundred years old. A comparison between the style of the
dancers there represented, that of the little Javanese present-day
dancer shown in a photograph, and that which is indicated in line
drawings (from photographs of temples in India) hints at indefinite age
back of Oriental dancing as we know it, as to style, technique and
spirit. The photographs, including those from which the line drawings
were made, are from the collection of Mr. H. C. Ostrander.
With variations, the India type of movement and pantomime, with the
practice of striking a significant pose at regular intervals, continues
eastward as far as the Hawaiian Islands. The _Hula-Hula_ of the graceful
Hawaiians has been well exemplified recently in an interpolation in _The
Bird of Paradise_. Essentially, the _Hula-Hula_ is a dance of coquetry;
its thematic position, which recurs like a refrain, is that shown in one
of the accompanying drawings.
Any effort to trace the path of Oriental dancing farther east than the
Hawaiian Islands leads to the shoals of unsubstantial speculation.
Aztec ruins are said (on authority not vouched for) to bear carvings
that show the early existence of the India type of dancing in Mexico.
There are said to be traces of India influences in the dancing of
Mexican Indians of to-day. But the interest of such fact--even if it is
a fact--is more closely related to ethnology than choreography; because
it is pretty certain that any trace of India dancing that may exist will
be an almost unrecognisable corruption. The study of dances on grounds
of oddity, ethnological curiosity or legendary association leads away
from the study of dancing for its own sake, and that of its inherent
beauty. It is in the endeavour to keep within the lines of reasonably
pure choreography that this book has been restrained from digressions
into the quasi-dancing of American Indians, African negroes, various
South Sea Islanders and many other interesting folk.
Dancing has an immense importance in religious worship of most of the
many denominations of India. Priestesses are trained to it; _corps de
ballet_ into which they are organised are maintained in the temples
under a system like that of ancient Egypt. Their rites are unknown--or
practically so--to those outside of their own faith. In other cults the
rites are performed, in part, by laymen. The latter ceremonies include a
not-to-be-described orgy periodically celebrated in certain Hindu
temples, by women, with the motives of propitiating Vishnu.
China has a school of rhythmic pantomime, the movement of which hardly
justifies its consideration as a branch of real dancing--so far as known
to the authors. An annual religious spectacle is to be noted: in it are
employed animals’ heads, recalling the _Snake Dance_ of the Hopi
Indians.
Japan, by means of sundry additions to the older Chinese school of
mimetic posturing, has converted it into an organism to which the name
of dancing is quite appropriate, and which constitutes by far the
greater portion of her national choreography.
It appears that the dances of occasional merry-makers, priestesses, and
the much-misunderstood Geishas have a common characteristic of slow,
even movement, small steps, and a highly abstract pantomime. Of a style
distinct from these are certain dances of men, including a stirring
dance of warriors; in which group is seen vigourous action, a good
proportion of open movement, and genuine steps. The accepted
classification of the Japanese, as _Nô_, or sacred dancing, and profane,
doubtless has its merits; but the division previously indicated,
distinguishing between dances of posture and those of movement, which is
the one established by the eye, is at least convenient.
With choral posture and gesture the Japanese celebrate auspicious
conditions of nature or happy events in the family. The coming of
spring; the cherry blossoms; the season of fishing with cormorants;
flowers in general; rice-harvest--in honour of a thousand occurrences
may be imagined groups of gaily coloured kimonos enveloping little
figures, softly and rhythmically swaying over the green, from each
kimono protruding a fan or a bouquet held in a cloth-enshrouded hand. In
the tea-house the Geisha (who is a skilled professional entertainer, no
more and no less) pantomimes, in delicate symbol, the falling of the
petals of flowers, the hearing of distant music--any motive is suitable,
apparently, so long as it is pretty, dainty, fanciful. Movement
conforms to the same manner of thinking; much of it barely disturbs the
silken folds of the kimono. A thousand meanings are hidden in little
turns and twists of the fan; but, when explained, the connection of act
and meaning is often so tenuous that it seems less mysterious, or
suggestive, than merely vague. Nevertheless, taking it on its own
premise as a demonstration of Japanese-doll prettiness, which is not
concerned with any but the lightest emotions, this type of dancing is
pleasing. Its virtue is its gossamer frailty.
The dances of war fall into a distinct class. Some of the drawings of
Hokkai represent them: combats between swordsmen, or between a swordsman
and a spearman. The dances themselves are charged with a vigourous
spirit and executed with big, noble movement of flourished weapons. The
poses follow the indefinable angularity which, through the very
consistency of its use, is an agreeable element in the more virile
school of Japanese drawing; and the spicy effect of sharpness so
produced combines to admiration with the crab-like design of old
Japanese armour.
Other men’s dances, equally vigourous, are recorded in drawings. But any
exact study of these or any other dances of Japan is almost hopelessly
handicapped by a scarcity of individuals who possess the desirable
combination of definite knowledge and personal reliability.
The Japanese theatrical dancing, so called, leads into a labyrinth of
pantomime both subtle and involved, and movement so slight that a troop
of dancers can continue in action four consecutive hours, without
relays. That is almost too much for real dancing, under existing
[Illustration: “NAUTCH DANCE”
Miss Ruth St. Denis
To face page 226]
[Illustration: JAPANESE DANCE
Miss Ruth St. Denis
To face page 227
]
human limitations of heart and muscle. The ballet dancer is entitled to
a rest after a solo of four minutes; to the ballet, therefore, it would
be well to return, for the certainty that the discussion is safe again
on the solid ground of reality.