September - Swallows, Sleeves, Socks, Strictly and Sleep

I can't believe we're nearly half-way through September already!

I haven't seen or heard any Swifts since perhaps mid-August. Small groups of Swallows dash eastwards, making the most of the wind behind them, calling and feeding as they go. A group today were particularly loud. I looked up just in time to see a Kestrel flying low through the gap between my house and next door, so low that it was its light-chestnut coloured back which identified it as a Kestrel. It was gone in a flash, so I couldn't catch whether it was male or female. I've only seen a Kestrel here once or twice, hunting along the fenceline, riding the wind.

The sun sets noticeably earlier and we've had night-time temperatures in single figures. I run hot, so am still in T shirts, but have had to put on something with sleeves on cooler evenings.

The cats have noticed the change in temperature and snuggle closer in bed, instead of sprawling, belly-up, in their own space. Now I'm under the duvet, instead of lying starfished on top of the sheets.

I keep seeing news predicting a week's heatwave in the wake of the Atlantic weather systems formed from the remnants of tropical storms Dorian and Gabrielle, though the weather for the week ahead locally doesn't reflect that. It may stay mild here, but once again, the media headlines refer to London and the south-east of England, as if that represents the whole of the UK.

It will soon be time to break out the woolly socks, and I have picked up some knitting which has been aestivating. I lose the motivation to knit during the summer, but it comes back as the weather cools.

My right knee is having a bit of a flare. A few weeks ago, it took the brunt of the twisting force as I tried to stop a wayward shopping trolley, which also ripped off the top of a finger nail. Despite lots of massage, physio exercises, mindful use, warmth and rest, it is getting worse rather than better. It's not just painful when I try to use it (and it's painful even when I'm resting it), but it feels as though the knee is on sideways. The familiar feeling that the insides are an overstretched, knotted ball of elastic, bits of which catch and ping. It won't bend properly with my weight on it, and is unreliable bearing my weight - a clue that the kneecap isn't tracking properly. Although it's occasionally been bad this year, it's not been this bad. It gave way last night as I was peeling some carrots, and I took a chunk of skin off one of my finger-tips with the peeler as I lost balance. Blood everywhere, and a throbbing finger to add to my irritability!

I'd forgotten how exhausting pain is. It wakes me at night, and though I fall asleep again quite easily (purring, snuggly cats help!), I sleep longer - eight hours becomes nine, ten, eleven ....

Another thing which provides some motivation is Strictly Come Dancing, which always makes me want to dance. Optimistically, I've rearranged a new course of belly dance classes starting in October, to give me a few weeks to try to get my knee a bit better again.

Perhaps if the weather heats up (ha ha!), some lying around on a warm, sunny beach and perhaps having a swim might be good therapy too! Meanwhile, I can sit with my leg up on the sofa, watching Strictly and knitting, which is pretty good therapy all by itself.

Happy New Year 2019

Here we go again!

Looking back over 2018, it wasn't as great a year as I'd hoped. It was supposed to be a year of changes, but it doesn't seem like much has changed. Even the fireworks picture feels a bit 'same old ...'. Will I ever feel as though I've got my life together?

The United Nations have declared 2019 to be the Year of Indigenous Languages, so I'm quite surprised not to have heard or seen a peep out of the Cymdeithas yr Iaith Gymraeg (Welsh Language Society).
2019 is also due to be the international year of the periodic table of chemical elements, and from Chinese New Year on 5 February, the Year of the Earth Pig/Boar. I wonder what it will have in store for this metal ox?

I didn't manage to put my Christmas decorations up any earlier than Christmas Eve.
I got closer to side-sit/jazz fourth but haven't managed to do it properly (yet!).
I had to get a new computer when my old one went phut and am still getting used to it. So much new stuff to learn!
The house and garden seems as chaotic as ever, possibly even more so.
I'm still scarcely earning anything.

Looking forward, this is going to be the year of changing my beloved old TARDIS of a Fiat Panda 4x4 for something else. I realised last year that I had absolutely no idea of what makes and models were out there, and the jargon that goes with them. I had people saying 'oh, you'll be looking for a city car, perhaps a CX1'. What's a city car? What's a CX1? I've done a lot of reading around and now know the answers to these questions. I also did a lot of soul searching, because running a car is expensive, both financially and ecologically. People who live and work in cities might decide that they could live without one, and hire one occasionally. In Wales, that's only about 25% of the population. The rest of us rely on personal transport so that we can live efficiently. The amount I would spend on buses doesn't bear thinking about, because I know I would not be able to walk into Haverfordwest or Milford, much less carry the shopping back.  Could I manage with only a bicycle? I wouldn't be able to teach without a car, or do WI talks, Not that I can find enough interest for classes, and this is the first year in several which I've started without any WI talks booked.
I've already been car-shopping locally and there isn't a lot to choose from in my price range which isn't a little gutless city-car runabout.

It's also going to be the year the UK leaves the EU. I'll be dressing in black on 29th March, our planned leaving date. It will contrast nicely with my flaming cheeks. I'm so embarrassed to be British.

What else? My 'Create 365' project. Finishing the JWAAD 'understanding music used in belly dance' course. Getting an editing qualification, perhaps, at last? Doing some belly dance workshops, if I can find anyone who wants to and is available?

Trying to keep calm and carry on. We'll see how this year unfolds!

Storm Callum and Dance Madness

My neck, arms, upper back and chest are all stiff and achy today, but not from the dance weekend we had planned. I'd been looking forward to it for weeks and had, I thought, put together a good running order for the show. In the event (ha!), it had to be cancelled due to extreme weather.

I am risk-averse to the point of being cowardly. I cancel classes when a yellow severe weather warning is forecast. I know from experience that it doesn't take much to block some of the local, rural roads with flooding or a fallen tree and have attempted to go out to events anyway, exhausting myself trying to find a way round or creeping along in the fog and heavy rain. Very few are as dance-obsessed as I am, so would not go out anyway, so it's just not worth trying to run the class.

So I was a bit wary when I saw the storm warning for the weekend of the Lampeter Dance Festival, but hopeful that it wouldn't be so bad. We had Serena Ramzy, one of my teachers and a very lovely person, booked to do workshops and perform in the Saturday night show. I haven't seen her for years, so was looking forward to my weekend very much. The show was all planned and I thought I had put together quite a good running order.

When severe weather is forecast, do you cancel/postpone your event as soon as you know, and risk the weather warning coming to nothing? Or go ahead, with the possibility that by the time it's clear the event should have been cancelled/postponed, it's too late anyway? So many times recently, the severe weather warnings have been updated or disappeared entirely, or I have been out in it and the local weather didn't warrant the warning.

By the time we knew that it was going to be bad, it was a bit late to cancel, so I packed the car and some lunch and tea-time food and drink, checked the roads and flood alerts for road closures (none found), made sure I had my phone and charger, picked up my friend Rachel, and set off in the blustery wind and lashing rain.
It wasn't until we were half-way to Carmarthen that we could see water lying on the fields. In Carmarthen, the level of the River Towy was alarmingly high and the road running parallel to the old quay was already flooded and closed. As we drove north, it became clear that it was worse weather in Carmarthenshire than Pembrokeshire. Water was coming off the fields, bringing stones and other bits with it and forming ponds on the roads. There were a few people out in the vile weather, trying to clear drains of leaves.

I'd left a little early and we were still on time, despite having to navigate deep puddles and the road completely awash at New Inn. We got as far as a place called Cilblaidd, just outside Cwmann, when the traffic stopped. A monster of a 4x4 with good ground clearance was coming from the other direction. The driver wound down his window and said that there was no way that cars would be able to get through on the bridge ahead, and we should just turn round. I relayed this information on to the car next to us, who had pulled in to a little lay-by. They shrugged and went on ahead, so I used the lay-by to turn around. As I drove off, I could see them in my rear-view mirror, stopping, and then reversing and turning around themselves.

I was a bit dithery after that. What should I do about all the stuff for the show? Could we find another way around? With the worsening roads and weather, should we even try?

Even before we got back to Llanybydder, there was a place where the flooded road was deepening fast and the car coughed and almost stalled, which would have left us in the water. Rachel was a perfect passenger, letting me know how things were on the passenger side of the car, doubtless as stressed as I was, but no complaints or even a peep when I gunned the engine and shouted at the car 'no no no no NO!' and got us going out of the flood. I considered holing up in a pub that we passed but pressed on to a garage to use the toilet and see if there were any updates on other routes. One of the staff was on Facebook, picking up videos of raging water and updates about fallen trees and closed roads. Along the route, the heavy rain was playing havoc with the phone signal and I couldn't get live traffic updates, or call my friend Rose to let her know what we were doing. Rachel took care of the phone, looking for map and Facebook updates, messages and texts, whenever patchy signal allowed.

We decided the best thing to do would be to go home, back to my place, where we could hang out with the cats, eat our packed food, watch the telly and generally vegetate for a few hours. We got back down the Carmarthen, where Pensarn trading estate, which was just heavily puddled on the outward journey, was flooded (a few hours later, the river overtopped the 8-foot high flood walls at Llangunnor).

Once home, we could get updates. It seemed that the Bridge and Co-op on the way into Lampeter were already flooding at 9.30 am, after I'd set off. Llechryd bridge, which is usually a problem, wasn't just flooded but the water was running over the top of it, just the tops of road signs visible. The amount of water coming down the rivers was incredible, and many places were flooded up to at least a metre. And there was a sad fatality when a bus stopped because of a fallen tree, and a young man got out to see what was going on and was caught by a landslip.

And the dance studio where the workshops were based in Lampeter had also flooded. The whole event was cancelled. Even though the weather on the Sunday was due to be fine, with no dance studio and many of the roads still impassable, it was impossible.

It must have been a moment's madness to think this would be okay; things could have gone so badly wrong! The tension from driving for three hours in lashing rain, blustery winds and negotiating flooded roads means that I'm still aching, a few days later. Next time I shall listen to my instincts.

D18 Dance Festival

This time last year, I was working on the Desert Rose contemporary belly dance veil fusion collaborative choreography. I really wanted the group to take it to Arts Care Gofal Celf's annual community dance showcase, but we had only scratched the surface of the work and would have been nothing like ready to show it, so I didn't apply for a slot.

I would have happily resurrected it for this year's showcase, D18, but two of the four dancers are no longer available, and it's the sort of piece where the patterns and cascades of repeated movements only show up with more than a few dancers.

In preparing the relaunched classes, I was working with a couple of Natacha Atlas tracks, in case any dancers wanted to learn some choreography, potentially performing it at the Cardigan Belly Dance Festival, first weekend in August. I asked for a slot at D18 this year in the hope that the classes might take off, and had arranged additional rehearsal time for anyone wanting to perform something quick and simple. And if no one wanted to perform, then I could do a solo and hopefully attract some attention to my classes.

The dance showcase is over a weekend at the Torch Theatre in Milford Haven, with morning workshops and afternoon shows. I skipped the Saturday (so much to do!) and I didn't go to the workshops (knees feeling fragile and complaining a bit after bouts of digging the garden), although I looked in on one where an agile man was apparently mimicking an insect travelling low across the floor. There is no way I could have attempted that!  During lunch in the cafe I saw a tech whom I knew from summer school, and found that we were on the main stage! I've only danced in the studio theatre before now. That being the case, I thought I had better go up to the auditorium to wait for a slot where I could orient myself on the stage.

The show was a fairly casual affair, with music handed in a little before hand, no tech run and some flexibility in the running order, handled really very well by the compere and technical team - only one or two small glitches. There were college groups and groups for dancers with learning disabilities, young children, professionals - a real mix, but largely contemporary and street dance, some of it really beautiful and technically skilled, some just sheer fun. I loved it!

I'd decided on a semi-improvised piece with veil to Soleil d'Egypte, reasoning that my usual baladi improvisation might be a little inaccessible for some of the audience. (As it turned out, there were a couple of people in the audience who had done belly dance and would have got it!)

I'm increasingly finding it difficult to warm up sufficiently to dance my best at haflas and the like and this was no exception. I went into a back corridor and ran through a good five-minute warm up, before putting my belt on and slipping into the wings during the piece before mine.

Then it was time. I felt quite small on the big stage. I'd given my camera to a member of the audience who agreed to record my piece, but I forgot to explain the zoom, so looked quite small on the film too. The bright 'sunlight' lighting bleached out features, and the camera struggled with the contrast, but the pic below was one of the better moments, although most of it has been cropped out.

When you forget to explain the zoom function to the person kindly recording your piece with your camera ...

And then it was over! People seemed to enjoy it and I had random compliments afterwards, as well as a couple of enquiries for class details. One woman came to chat and explained that she was just visiting, had done some belly dance but had given it up and since we were more or less the same size (actually, she's nothing like as rotund as I am!) she had some costume to send me. I gave her a business card with my address, and a few days later, a gorgeous green and gold Egyptian-style overskirt/belt arrived. I'm so very touched by her generosity.

As for the piece, I was originally thinking of a class choreography without veils, but after dancing with one, have changed my mind. Now I need people in class ...! Or am I going to be repeating this solo at the Cardigan Belly Dance Festival in August?

Belly Dance Classes Relaunched!

Since effectively stopping classes last September, I've been doing a lot of planning, soul-searching and casual market research. I thought I would record and share the results and planning process!

'I think I'm probably too old (this from a 30 year old and a 73 year old!)'
Too old at 30? But seriously, you are never too old. You can work gently and within your comfort zone, at your own pace, and sit down and rest if you need to, whatever your age. I try to provide inclusive classes, whether for age, shape/size/level of fitness, disability, or gender.

'I want a midweek, evening class.'
Only one respondent wanted a daytime class, most were working or otherwise occupied (volunteering, other activities) during the day. Fridays were too vulnerable to weekend plans and the desire to just get home and put feet up at the end of the week.

One respondent wanted a class which started early, so they could go from work, but most wanted to at least be able to go home and change. (The danger is, of course, that once home, it can be hard to motivate yourself to go back out again!)

'An hour's class is enough - an hour and a half can feel like too much.'
So all classes are now an hour long, with an option for extra rehearsal time after class for those who wish to perform.

'It shouldn't end late - I want/need to be home by 9.30.'
(Because I have caring responsibilities/need to be up for work the next morning)
So classes are 7.00-8.00 pm, rehearsals 8.00-9.00 pm.

'I don't want to have to travel far - preferably not more than 5 miles.'
('Because it adds to costs, and time away from home - a consideration if you have other things to get done, or caring responsibilities.')
The location of classes is an issue; they are best placed in the population centres; that is, towns, rather than out in the villages. That said, being in town is no guarantee of attendees, particularly with the competition from other activities for attendees and venues.
With Narberth's Bloomfield Centre an established venue for the Thursday class, and Hubberston and Hakin Community Centre newly available on Tuesdays for a Milford Haven-based class, the main issue was to find a place for the Haverfordwest Wednesday class.
I checked out a dozen venues (over a couple of months - it took 3 weeks just to discover the booking contact for one venue!), only to find that none were suitable; either they were booked, or booked until 8.00 pm (therefore only for a late class), or they were too expensive (including one where if you wanted a full hour's class, you would have to book and pay for the venue for two hours). Or there was no adjacent parking (I have a lot of clobber, including a heavy suitcase) and no safe access after dark between the hall and a 'remote' car park. In the end, I rebooked Spittal, which is a nice hall and reduces the distance for anyone coming from the Fishguard end. Those in Haverfordwest then have a choice - Spittal or Hubberston.

And there's always car-sharing to split travel costs ....
'I don't have transport.'
It's difficult when you don't know anyone, but there are potentially car shares available, including a couple of spaces in my car for Narberth and Spittal classes.

'I can't/don't want to have to commit to classes.'
('Because of health conditions, cash flow, shift working or other activities, caring responsibilities.')
I understand that (however much it creates difficulties for me as the provider). So don't feel you have to 'commit', but do make an effort to come when you can, and let me know when you can't. Simple.

'I don't want to pay for a block of classes in advance.'
('Because I can't afford it, or I know that I might not be able to make all of them, so will feel like I'm paying for nothing and not getting my money's worth.')
Talking to other teachers, having students pay for a block of classes in advance is a recommended way to get a bit of commitment and attendance at classes. But I have seen in practice that this doesn't necessarily work, (see the comment above).
I did some research into motivating students, but it was largely based around 'youth' type classes such as ballet, modern/jazz, street dance, where it's mostly the parents/guardians who are paying for the lessons, and incentives such as freebies and discounts work both for the students, who then want to come to class and provide the pester-power, and the payers.

I settled on having a drop-in rate of £5 for occasional attendees, and reduced rates per class for pre-paid cards for 6 or 12 classes. Yes, these are paid in advance, but the cards are flexible. They are for any of my Imago classes, in any of the three venues, and also for £5 increments towards Imago workshops. So you can go to two classes one week and none the next, then one the following week, whatever you want. You can split the card with one or more friends (though you'll have to decide who holds it). You need to remember to present them at the start of class. And they are valid for 6 months or at least until the end of July, depending on how classes go.
I've had a 'class card' system before, and it worked quite well, although I formerly also had cards for 24 and 36 classes, which weren't used. When I was looking for the old cards file to update it and print new ones, I found that my class rates have scarcely changed and the 6-class card price is the same as it was in 2011! What's not to love about that?

'I don't want a course, because if I miss a week I'll feel left behind.'

Okay, so no 'course'. The lesson plans will still include learning moves, drilling, follow-along or improvised dance, combinations and various props, but if you miss a week, it's no biggie. You'll still be building your dance skills, you can ask questions and request things to be covered in class. Just come and enjoy, week by week, whatever we're doing.

'I don't want to have to fill in a load of paperwork. Learning plans, induction tick lists? I'm here to dance!'
Some paperwork is necessary so that I have your details and can keep in touch if a class needs to be cancelled and to record who is there week by week. Otherwise, having a learning plan or a tick sheet for moves is up to you.

'I don't want to feel like I'm the only beginner.'
My classes have always been mixed level, as there have never been enough dancers to justify separate classes for beginners and improvers. I believe very firmly that everyone still does 'the basics' (you never really stop drilling isolations, hip circles, eights and undulations) but more experienced dancers will do them better and with frills on (layers, shimmies!).
With relaunched classes, there should be other beginners. Everyone is different and working at their own pace, finding some moves easy, others not so much. Perhaps bring a friend who is also a beginner?

'I want to join a class with several people already in it.'
This is a really difficult one. These are effectively new classes, and although I have had lots of enquiries and enthusiastic replies, it may still be the case that few people come. If it's not a course or block of classes which people have to commit to, then there are no guarantees how many people will turn up each week. If you're a little nervous, it's natural to want to lie low and hide at the back for a bit, or if you are dropping in for the social contact as well as some dancing, then finding you are one of three in a class could be enough to make you drop back out again.

The only solution to this is for people to come to class! Turn up for class, and bring a friend or two, the more the merrier!

While I was writing this, it occurred to me that much of it deals with reasons why people don't come to class. Hopefully the answers and solutions I've found will be reassuring and motivating, but it still leaves me with one question:

Why do I do this?
Because I love 'belly dance', in all its forms. I love the music and rhythms, and the way dance flows out as you let the music fill you. I love to teach. I love seeing frowns turn into grins as dancers discover what their bodies can do, or that others have the same issues. I love the energy and fun to be had from dancing in a group. I love the way that dance can dissolve barriers and reveal the truly beautiful souls of the dancers. I believe there are very few valid reasons not to dance and that, if you let it, it will transform your life.

Happy New Year 2018!

Wow, where did 2017 go? I know, I say something similar every year. It's true though! So here we are again, a new year before us, full of potential and possibilities. And of course, the now obligatory new year fireworks picture:

Fireworks around the London Eye, view across the Thames from the Embankment

There has been much discussion over gender equality and sexual harassment/assualt (#MeToo), and 2018 is the centenary of women being granted the right to vote in British parliamentary elections. To mark this, a female/Venus symbol was projected onto the Shell Centre tower building (left of the Eye in the above photo) while a soundtrack by various female artists played. It's a great milestone to celebrate, even though the Representation of the People Act 1918 only granted voting rights to some women (over 30 years old if they were either a member or married to a member of the Local Government Register, a property owner, or a graduate voting in a university constituency). It took another 10 years and an update to the act to grant votes for all women over 21, providing equal voting rights with men. A number of commentators have hailed 2018 as 'the year of the woman'; by this time next year, we'll see if they were right.

More officially, the UK government  has announced 2018 as the Year of Engineering, part of a year-long campaign to tackle the engineering skills gap and widen the pool of young people who join the profession. The UK Space Agency will be supporting the campaign by funding a series of education and outreach projects designed to inspire interest in science, technology, engineering and mathematics (STEM).

The Scottish Government has made 2018 the Year of Young People, providing a platform for those aged 8-26 in Scotland and opportunities to explore and showcase their personalities, talents and achievements.

National Geographic has decided 2018 will be the Year of the Bird, and has launched a year-long campaign dedicated to celebrating and protecting birds. So the first of my resolutions will be to do more wildlife watching, starting with birds (RSPB's Big Garden Bird Watch, last weekend of January!). More moths, more butterflies, other insects, spiders ....

Chinese New Year on February 16th is the start of the year of the dog, a male earth dog to be more precise.
I've seen lots of predictions that this will be a year of changes, but don't we all say that, every new year?

The first change for me was to change the layout of this blog a little - I was bored with seeing two sidebars, so back to a right hand side bar with all the usual bits and pieces, and the articles on the left. 

I was terribly untidy in 2016, with craft stash all over the place while I prepared for workshops in early 2017, so didn't put any decorations up. This Christmas, I loved rediscovering the various baubles, decorating the tree, putting lights in the window. My preference for decoration on Christmas Eve now feels like I don't get to enjoy my decorations for long enough, before it's time to take them down again. I don't like to see decorations up very early (certainly not before December 1st), but I've decided I shall put my decorations up earlier this coming December, and enjoy the sparkle for longer. And be tidier!

Another change for me will be to find a new car, not something which fills me with excitement. I've just put my car into the garage for some urgent work to shocks, brakes, exhaust and so on, only to find that the rear subframe is corroding and won't last another year, and would be uneconomic to repair/replace. Chatting to the mechanics, they suggested I buy myself some time by getting the work done, which will also give it some trade-in value. They said it was the sort of corrosion they see when a car has been used with a boat trailer, dipping its rear end into the sea. Of course, the original owner would probably not have owned up to that when he traded up. The corrosion isn't noticeable for the first few years, but it explains why the sump guard rusted through and gave up relatively early, too. It's only 10 years old, I've had it for 8 and the mileage hasn't even been that high.  Such a shame, as I've liked this car better than my previous ones.

So sadly, this is not the year for getting the central heating, soffits, gutters etc. done. Double glazing, replacement bathroom fan and shower and rebuilding the chimney all loom on the near horizon. As for fencing, new shed, greenhouse ... unless by great good fortune I win the lottery or some other prize. I don't know where the money's going to come from, so this is definitely going to be a year for trying to earn more.

In order to do that, it really is going to have to be a year to change my computer. I hardly dare type this, just in case it hears, but it has been making some alarming rattling, grinding noises.  

Looking back, 2017 was not as fabulous as I'd wished, but that's life, I guess. I learned a lot about editing, managed a lot of gardening (well, a lot of digging, and a certain amount of enjoying peas fresh from their pods) and did a lot of meditation. After a concerted effort to clean and move furniture and get a bit more sorted out in order to host a visit from my parents, I feel as though I've made headway, even though there is always more to do. I've decided that I like to have a selection of works in progress, and anything I didn't achieve last year I can continue to strive for; anything else can just have a veil drawn over it. Preferably one with sequins and beads along the edge.

2018 will hopefully also include more dance, yoga and exercise, regaining enough flexibility to sit in jazz 4th position on both sides; more beach time, more gardening and vegetable growing and crafting and blogging.
It's time to rouse myself from my inexplicable January funk, there's so much to look forward to!

Class Plans

Planning classes is a difficult thing! Schemes of work and lesson plans aside, for part-time, 'leisure' classes in the current economic climate, finding or creating demand is key, achievable by tapping into the right demographic groups (whatever they might be). Then it's a matter of finding a venue which is available when you want it, at a reasonable price and then matching location, venue, day and time to the prospective students' availability (especially in low population areas such as this one). Without this, even free workshops won't necessarily attract attendees.

My class numbers are so low that I effectively have no class running at the moment. Even through adult ed, where the classes are charged in blocks of 10 and are really, really cheap, especially for those who get concessions, and still people will not commit or pay up front. (Some really can't - however cheap, it's difficult to find £30 or £40 in one go if you're on jobseekers allowance. However, some will still pay the equivalent of their concession-rate class to Costa coffee every week, grrr! But it illustrates that although many will cite cost as an issue, it really isn't about the money.)

After letting my classes stagger on until I was effectively paying for my teaching practice and the social contact with the couple of dancers who would come regularly, I've had to stop classes. There's no competition from other belly dance classes here, and it's not just belly dance classes which are closing. Only a fraction of adult ed classes are running, despite being extremely cheap and offering payment plans to take the sting out of paying in 10 week blocks. The main issues seem to be the perception of how much things do and should cost, and personal priorities. It's been noticeably harder since 2008. From the prospective (dance) student's point of view, prioritising time and money is a difficult thing for most, especially when weighed against the needs and wants of the rest of the family. Many people here are on very low incomes, suffering from health issues, have other responsibilities which take their time and energy (shift working, caring, parenting), and however much we think adults are in control of their lives, shit happens. There are a million and one other reasons why a dance class is low on the list of priorities. Some just don't want to be tied to a regular commitment (even if only for a few weeks) or are just apathetic or complacent (thinking that a class will still be there for when they feel like it, and if it's not, oh well!).

Having dropped in to other exercise-based classes, I've seen that many students want their leisure activities to be social and not feel like hard work. This can be tricky. It's good for beginners to join an existing, stable class, with enough people that they can be anonymous at the back, preferably in the company of a friend. But they are easily put off if most of the others in the class are no longer absolute beginners. There is a safety in being able to hide in a group who are all following the bouncing butt in front of them, being carried away by the music, without having to think or remember, and without being corrected.

Enquirers often don't turn into students for reasons which can be very difficult to discover (cold feet? but their lack of engagement often results in a lack of response).

I'm going to carry on trying, if only because other good, experienced teachers are having the same problems, so I can reassure myself it's not because I'm a crap teacher. Trying to stay positive that things will change is hard though, and because I'm scarcely earning anything, I'm having a hard time getting to haflas and keeping up my CPD. It's a vicious circle!
 
So I've kept the venue booking at Bloomfield House in Narberth, not least because the staff and welcome there are fantastic, and introduced a 'class card' of a block of (semi-transferable) classes at a reduced rate (upfront payment and some motivation) and a drop-in rate (for the occasionals) and created posters and flyers to advertise it, as well as social media and other online outlets.

So much work, all unpaid, and I must admit that it's because I love it so much that I do a lot of it 'for love'. My most committed dancer/student is using this to make improvements in her mental health and some challenging physical issues. She's been at this for about 3 years now, and managed a hip shimmy last night without moving her arms and shoulders for the first time. I almost cried with happiness.

If you're reading this and thinking about going to a belly dance class, but fear you have no coordination and just 'can't dance', remember - everyone is different. So it might take you a while to learn to shimmy, or you might get it first time. You'll never know unless you try, and it's never too late to start!

Cardigan Belly Dance Festival 2017

It's that time of year again, when I go slightly bats chasing dancers' details and music, trying to put together a show running order (it gets more difficult every year) which allows dancers time to change their costumes between pieces and provide the audience with a varied and entertaining showcase of belly dance at all levels.

This year saw the launch of West Wales Belly Dance, making the most of new teachers and classes which now stretch across the west of Wales from Powys, Ceredigion and Pembrokeshire into Carmarthenshire.

We also coincided with the Cardigan Carnival, so we took a break from the pop-up troupe workshop at lunchtime to join the parade. We hurried along the lower streets to get to the far end of the high street to be in time for the off ... which was delayed, so we then had to stand around in the sunshine (could have been worse!). We were near the rear of the parade, and various dance groups had Isis wings, veils, Saidi sticks and so on,. A couple of dancers held a West Wales Belly Dance banner between them, a couple of us played finger cymbals and we generally injected some life and colour into the event. The vehicles at the end of the parade, were finding it hard to go slowly enough for the dancers in front of them, who were of course not moving at a brisk walking pace.

At the end of the high street, we peeled off to go back to the theatre, much to the disappointment of people watching and probably relief of the RNLI or ambulance or whoever it was behind us. We needed lunch and to restart workshops, and I badly needed a sit-down. A full day's workshops and evening performance as well as charging along the roads of Cardigan, what was I thinking?

Between vending and dealing with the preloved rails, dancing in the pop-up troupe and in the Imago Desert Rose piece, liaising with the technician and trying to catch up with dancers whom I hadn't seen for ages, I forgot to take photos, or even to give my camera to someone else. I think I had Desert Rose filmed, but can't find the file. But it was a great show, with Alanya dancing beautifully and some great solos and group pieces from both local groups and further afield. The stand-outs for me were my students; one who worked really hard on a fusion solo and opened the show with her blessing-based dance, and our Desert Rose piece which, I was told, we 'totally owned as strong, beautiful women' (!), and visitors from the Ammanford area the Lotus Sisters. Their strength, energy and magnetic presence had us all completely gripped. I'm so looking forward to their teaching next year!

In a change to previous years, we had four short (30 minute) workshops on the Sunday morning. Mine was 'An infinity of 8s' looking at Figure 8s and discussing changes in planes of movement, levels, dynamics and use in taqsim and for rhythms such as Wahda Kebira, Tsiftetelli and Maqsoum. It was a lot to get through, but good practice to focus the mind and body for me as a teacher as well as the other dancers.

These weekends involve such a lot of work and stress leading up to them, a lot of work and joy during them, and utter exhaustion after them. I got home feeling totally drained, drank a pint of water and went to bed, wondering how I was going to find the energy for the Joon Dance contemporary summer school starting the following morning.

Oh, Yvette!

I've been sent back into a spiral of grief again by the loss of another of the UK belly dance leading lights, this time of a brightly shining, guiding star: Yvette Cowles.

Although I knew of her, I didn't meet and get to talk to Yvette until I went to JWAAD summer school in July 2011, where she was giving a light-hearted evening talk about the ridiculous way in which belly dance and dancers have been portrayed in some films (cue some of the James Bond and Carry On films). Her commentary and selected clips had us all falling about laughing. After that, we became friends (that is, acquaintances, really!) on Facebook, bound by a love of all things belly dance, including a stack of mutual friends.

Rose hatched a plan for Yvette to bring her one-woman show 'Sequins on my Balcony' to Cardigan in February 2014. The Friday night show, with a selected cross-section of belly dance styles from guest dancers in the first half and Yvette in the second, was a hit. Yvette gave workshops on the Saturday, with a Saturday night party too, it was such a great weekend.

She wrote a small book about her experiences, including those which featured in her show. 'Belly Dancing and Beating the Odds' is entertaining and heart-warming, yet honest and sad in places. I treasure my signed copy so you can't borrow it, but it doesn't cost much so you can buy your own through Harper Collins.

She managed to get back to us to give some workshops on 'putting drama into your dance' at the end of May 2016. At the time, we were awaiting the airing of a TV series in which Yvette featured, The Big C and Me, where she was one of those with cancer whom the programme makers had been following around for a year. In her case, she had started on a clinical trial to try to keep her cancer in check. Since being diagnosed in 1996, she had gone through various surgeries and treatments, including two mastectomies, which were still not enough to stop secondary cancer developing in 2011. By the time the programme aired and she had also been on the Victoria Derbyshire programme, Yvette had been living with cancer (and latterly, with rheumatoid arthritis and metastatic cancer) for 20 years; not just existing with it, she lived life to the fullest, with dance and laughter as mandatory therapies.

The 'drama in your dance' weekend was special. Although I had already done many of the exercises in drama classes many years ago, it's always good to repeat and revise. I've found that, even if you know the subject, there is often a 'light-bulb' moment in a workshop, you just have to listen and be receptive. Yvette saw me drawing a large light-bulb with rays of light and underlining in the margin of my dance notebook and I explained my theory. Those moments, where your eyes are opened to something which you hadn't thought about or fully realised before, they're where the value lies. Just one light-bulb moment can justify the workshop; everything else you get - the practice, revision, company, laughs, handouts, notes in your dance journal, they're good too, but I love a light-bulb moment.

On the second day, we had to perform a piece for each other and give feedback. I dusted off 'Song to the Siren', without costume. I wanted feedback on whether it should be danced 'on my feet', including travel steps and choreography from the waist down, or whether it works sitting down on a pretend rock, and was strong enough without the costume. (The rock won, to my amazement and it was agreed that good as it was, the costume would really be the finishing touch to the performance, which could possibly include some dancers being waves to start with and provide distraction from the 'rock' being wheeled on!) I was amazed to find that something in the workshops had caused my characterisation to shift, bringing a darker, more exciting dimension to the piece. It needs to be performed again, and when I do it, I shall be remembering Yvette!

Post-workshop playtime, with Yvette front and not-quite-centre!

Earlier this year, I had an inkling that things were not looking good for her. Still I sent love and virtual hugs to her Facebook, blog and vlog posts. When she died, her family asked people not to post it immediately all over the social media, to try to ensure that her family and close friends heard it from her close family first. However, Yvette used to work in publishing, so I quickly found out through news posts from The Bookseller and Hay House, just before the sudden outpouring of grief at the news throughout the belly dance extended family.

Her bravery, drive and sense of humour were humbling and uplifting at the same time. She was a wonderful teacher, an inspiration to seek happiness, enjoy life, and dance at any and every opportunity.

She had discussed the possibility of providing free belly dance classes in hospices and cancer units with Charlotte Desorgher of Hipsinc. and Company of Dreams. Although Yvette didn't live to see this dream become a reality, Charlotte set up the Yvette Cowles Memorial Fund to support this work, and you can make a donation through that page on the Company of Dreams website.

Oh Yvette, your passing left a sparkly hole in our lives and we will all miss you so much.

Remembering 'Rhythmic Ginger' Adam Warne

Sometimes, thankfully not very often, someone comes into my life and then leaves it quite abruptly, and I find myself mourning their loss terribly and completely out of proportion to how well I knew them. The disproportionate grief is made even worse by the knowledge that it is utterly selfish self-pity. My potential friend has gone, not fair!

The latest was Adam Warne, known by many in the UK belly dance community (and elsewhere) as Rhythmic Ginger (the latter for the colour of his hair. I've never understood why red-haired people get teased and bullied. Red hair is beautiful.).

He was an awesome musician, particularly at home on drums, hence the belly dance link, but he was also a percussionist for the Northern School of Contemporary Dance in Leeds. He could pluck rhythms out of the air, weave them together, and make the drums talk, sing, whisper, sigh.

I grabbed an opportunity to go to his workshop with Josephine Wise on dancing to live drumming at a JWAAD Fantasia festival, and was delighted when my friend Rose invited him to come with Catherine Bartholomew as our 'visiting teachers' in February 2016. His love of drumming was tangible and infectious and he was a great teacher. I got so much out of those several hours of workshops, covering lots of rhythms, various middle eastern percussion instruments, different techniques for playing darbuka and frame drums, ergonomics for both dancing and drumming, and what to look for in a drum. I bought a frame drum from him, and treated myself to a new darbuka with my birthday money.

After my solo in the Saturday night showcase, he came up to me and complimented me on my dancing. He sees a lot of dance and dancers, so it meant a lot to me that he enjoyed my dance and thought it and my interpretation of the music were good.
It was a great weekend. We wanted him back for more workshops.

The shock and disbelief at the news that he had died suddenly in early April echoed around Facebook. We knew he'd been ill and had major surgery, but he seemed to be getting better. Then he died, apparently in his sleep, so we can hope it was peaceful. As the tributes and memories started to pour in, it became clear just how many lives he had touched, how well-known and loved he was. So many photos and stories of the bands he'd been in, holidays, his music and lyrics, his humour; so many friends, so many happy memories.

Another reminder, if any were needed, that you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone, and you never know what will happen, so seize the day and live life to the full! I am so grateful for those workshops and the brief conversations I had with him.

Not being one for selfies, and concentrating on the workshop too much to take photos, all I had was some video of him summarising the day's workshop. So I took a still from that, while he was in full flow about the maqsoum rhythm and a framework for practice.

His funeral is next week on 4th May, a month from his death. As a Star Wars fan, I hope he's looking down on us and enjoying the joke. May the fourth be with you Adam, you already are and will be sorely missed.
Although I hardly knew you at all, it looks like you left the world a better place than you found it, as far as those who knew you are concerned. Goodbye, you lovely man.

It's More Than Just A Dance Class

Another term, another manic round of  finding and reminding dancers to register, liaising with the Adult Ed department to try to determine whether there are enough for the class to go ahead (a floating number depending on how many pay which level of fees, which no-one seems able to estimate until at least 10 are registered) and preparing classes.

Then, revising the plans a little due to a change in location (industrial carpeting is horrible to turn on! The ceiling height looks okay - would we hit it if we used canes or Isis wings?) Then ensuring our Facebook group and my website have all the up-to-date information. From an organiser's point of view, whether that's an Adult Education organisation or the teacher themselves, trying to get a class going, chasing up enquiries, booking and checking the venue, marketing, advertising and planning the class, it's all necessary work, but is also unpaid expenses until the class successfully goes ahead.

And then, the day before the class is due to start, I hear that two have failed to pay. So now those who did pay for the term have no class, and no prospect of a class at least before half term, and want their money back (a pain and further sunk costs for the community education centre, although I would probably have gone ahead if it were one of my independent classes). Why the drop-outs? One I now know about; flu' over the holiday season left a harsh cough and such strained intercostals (never mind gasping for breath) that her doctor instructed her to rest for at least the next few weeks. About the other, whom I don't know but who was apparently eager to join the class, I have no idea, and neither does her friend who already comes to class.

We've been here before. A few years ago, a dancer was asked and repeatedly reminded by one of her friends to let her know about the class. She gave her all of the information, each time her friend asked her about it. Eventually, her friend stopped nagging 'let me know' and it turned into a sort of accusatory 'you were supposed to let me know'. Exasperated, the dancer reminded her friend that she had let her know, she had given her all of the information, every time she asked. She'd encouraged her friend to come, reassured her; in fact, done everything short of dragging her friend out of the house, driving her to class and back, and paying for her. All her friend had to do was show up (and pay), but she never did. And although 'but I didn't know about it' was evidently not an excuse, we never knew the real reason why she didn't come.

Nor have I had any sign-ups, or even enquiries, for my independent class. It's 15 miles away, which means no-one from the other class wants to move to that one. I've decided that I'm going to keep that room booking and use the space-time to work on my own technique and choreographies, or perhaps the odd private lesson if anyone wants one.

There has been some interest, but no real commitment, for the collaborative piece I proposed last summer. It seems impossible to get all half-dozen dancers together even for an initial meeting.

WI and other talks/demos bring forth regular comments of 'I would love to' or 'perhaps next term/year', but what stops the wish from being fulfilled is anyone's guess. I chat to the ladies over tea and biscuits at the end of these sessions to try to get to the bottom of that. It's evident from the feedback that belly dance is not what they thought it was, so much so that I now include a 'myth-busting' section in my talk (it's not the preserve of slender, leggy young women, you don't have to bare any flesh/tummies/legs, you don't have to be fit, coordinated or be any good at it to start, it's never too late, ... and so on).

I deplore the idea, which I've heard repeated in adult education circles, that adult 'leisure' courses are mainly for the idle rich, but there may be some truth in it. Belly dancing can be a problematic topic in terms of engaging adults, who can find any number of reasons why not to do something. As always, it probably comes down to personal priorities and more intangible reasons for not wanting a dance class, although belly dance classes are not the only classes which are failing to run through insufficient interest. It seems many really just don't want to learn (or feel they're being taught). I can understand this for those who aren't academic and have just finished full-time education, and there are some who have been put off lifelong learning by their experience of school.

Whatever the reasons for not coming to class (and I've posted an example of this before), there are good reasons for getting out there and continuing learning.

If belly dance itself is more than just jiggling your bottom, then learning to dance is about much more than just dance. That's just the vehicle for learning - it can be a very broad topic, from working on rhythms using finger cymbals to exploring the music, history and culture, or political and feminist issues, to building self-esteem and confidence.

Everyone needs physical activities, even the less able-bodied and it doesn't have to be sport. Just walking a bit more is free and contributes to the recommended minimum of 150 minutes of moderately-paced (that is, it gets you warm and a bit sweaty without leaving you unable to speak!) activity per week. However, dance offers the full package, improving balance, posture, range of body and joint movement, muscle strength and cardiovascular capacity. Belly dance is particularly good for core muscle strength and its benefits for balance, posture and digestion, and is low impact, so kind to ageing joints.

Furthermore, learning involves brain activity, promoting thinking skills, improving concentration and attention span, widening interests and generating ideas. For some, the main enjoyment comes from social interaction,making new friends and reducing feelings of loneliness and isolation.

I often worry about the future of public sector Adult Education services, not to mention my own work as an independent teacher. When classes close, it can be difficult to get them restarted and the resulting lack of funds can start a vicious circle, reducing the availability of classes. Yes, there is a lot of free information available via the internet, but it's not always a good substitute for being taught in a class with others. So don't wait for things (life, weight, whatever!) to be perfect before you start doing things you might enjoy, because one day when you decide you want a class, it may not be there. Use it or lose it!

Belly Dance Costume on a Budget

It was with a deepening sense of gloom that I watched the coverage of the Autumn Statement. The forecast is that low and middle income 'households' who are the JAMs - a nice new acronym, the 'Just About Managing' - will find themselves worse off as a combination of inflation and welfare cuts take hold.

When you are just about managing (and especially when you are actually not managing but determined to have some belly dance space-time), it can be really difficult to justify money spent on costume for a performance, especially if your time and money is so short that this may be once a year. The temptation is to go for something cheap, preferably something which will do double duty as everyday clothing, perhaps something you already have in your wardrobe. This can be really difficult; costume should ideally look like costume. There are few instances where you can get away with everyday wear, unless your everyday wear is somewhat bohemian and full of rich fabrics, colours, textures and bling! So, bearing in mind that I'm considering amateur performances in relatively 'safe' spaces, such as local haflas, here are some tips on what you might look for, what you might get away with, and how not to waste your money.

First, bear in mind that your costume should:

• Suit the dance style. Think about the dance - is it more cabaret or folkloric? A distinct style, or fusion? You might get away with jeans and a T shirt for Shaabi, or summer skirts for something folky or fusion, but not for something more classical.
• Fit you. Not so loose that the movements can't be seen or that it slips around or down, not so tight that it looks like you might spill out or it rides up, not so long that you trip over it, nor too short.
• Flatter you. Maximise your assets, minimise your faults, cover up anything distracting, such as large, scarred tummies and bingo wings, and look as though you are wearing the costume and not the other way around.
• Provide some visual interest and look like a unified group. I'm all for individuality, but if everyone just wears what they have or like, you can end up with every style of costume in every colour (which is what happened for the Imago dancers' first show piece. Ah well, it's all experience!). Costumes don't have to be identical, but should have some sort of richness, either in their decoration or the blend of colours and perhaps textures or fabrics, and if not all the same, then a limited set of styles can bring a group look together.)

The first thing is to assess what you have, or can borrow.

• Skirts. A skirt should be long and move nicely. Long means down to your ankles, or onto the instep of your foot, rather than calf length. Try turning in the skirt and twisting your hips to see how it moves. Ideally, you should have a skirt with a hem at least 3-4 metres long. A circular skirt will have a hem 6-7 metres long. A half circle skirt with godets (triangular inserts) can also work well. Tiered skirts used for folkloric or tribal style dance often have hems at least 9.5 metres long, roughly equivalent to a circle and a half, but if the top tier is too long, onto the thigh, it may not move well. This is often the case with tiered 'broomstick' skirts sold as summer skirts, which often do not have enough fabric gathered into the tiers to move well.
• Tops. A good basic is a close-fitting vest top or strappy camisole of fine cotton, poly-cotton, polyester or viscose jersey. This can be paired with a cropped-length tie-top of some sort, in a matching or toning colour. Make sure the tie top is big enough so that it does not ride up over the bust, and you can get a sleeker look with a top which has ties long enough to cross in front and tie at the back. Any T shirt should be close-fitting, with a deep and preferably decorated neckline. The only time I would suggest something 'blousy' would be a folk top with a gathered neckline, full sleeves and some embroidery.
• Trousers. I've seen a lot of trousers described as 'harem pants' recently, but they are really just pull-on trousers with pleating at the waist and a narrow ankle. These can work if they are made in a drapey fabric, otherwise choose some made from a decorative fabric (and more of it!), with elastic at the ankles (and long enough to cover the ankle bone). For tribal fusion, flared jazz pants, perhaps with a small over-skirt, can work well.
• Dresses. Depending on the cut and decoration, an evening gown could double as a cabaret dress. (And a dress galabeya could double as an evening gown.) A simple column or A-line summer dress with a beaded neckline might also work when worn with a matching coin belt.

Now you're in a better position to consider what you need.

Do:

• Think ahead; the earlier you start to plan and put a costume together, the better.
• Be prepared to spend some money at some point. Start a costume fund. It is possible to get a dress galabeya, which could see you through several styles of dance, for around £50.00 (although the way the currency is going at the moment, not for very much longer!).
• Be prepared to have more than one costume if you are going to continue!
• Know your size/measurements and look carefully at descriptions and pictures when buying online.
• Resist buying the first thing which catches your eye because it's cheap and looks like it will do.
• Support your local dance events and buy from souk/bazaar vendors. You get to handle costumes and try them on, and you are often effectively supporting small businesses. If the vendor travels to Cairo (for example), have a chat about the sort of thing you're looking for, what you can afford, size and colour preferences.
• Have a look at internet sites selling professional costumes. With the change in exchange rates, these are far more expensive now, but you might get lucky with a sale, and it will give you ideas.
• Keep an eye on eBay, there are bargains to be had, especially if you happen to be the right size for another dancer's second hand, quality costumes.
• Keep an eye open in charity shops for evening dresses, skirts and tops which could be adapted, and outrageous bling in terms of jewellery, providing it suits the costume you are putting together.
• Reality check. If you sew or can have someone sew for you, re-purposing clothing can work out cheaper, but there is a lot of work in a belly dance costume and you may spend more on the beads and sequins than you'd planned. Have an idea of the cost of fabrics per metre and how much you would need to make a garment from scratch, which is sometimes quicker than making alterations. You might be able to buy a lot of sequins more cheaply than salvaging them off another charity garment. Blingy jewellery which could be used as costume decoration needs either to be removable or in a mount which won't rust.
• Remember that even professional quality costumes often need some adjustment to fit your unique body!

Avoid:

• Harem pants, skirts or dresses with metal coins on as part of the decoration; they will be difficult to wash.
• Costumes which claim to be 'professional' but do not look like anything which, say, Eman or Hoda Zaki, Hanan or Bella would produce.
• Anything marked as one size fits all, unless it really can fit you.
• Anything which seems to have an identity crisis. A quick look through eBay this evening resulted in a lot of yoga, Bollywood and ballroom costumes tagged as belly dance.
• Anything which looks like lingerie/underwear. This includes bras with a decorated front, but still with the stretch straps at the back. (You might get away with it peeping out the front of a tie-top or deep-fronted galabeya, but don't spend money on one unless you are sure it will fit!)

Really Don't:

• Go for Carnival, Halloween or other dress-up costumes - they're not usually designed to be danced in. Yes, that includes that set of  'endless wave' style harem pants with small clusters of beads on the points, halter top and belt smothered in coins and sequins, all for under £18.00. What a bargain, so difficult to resist, even when you suspect that the halter top will not fit (as they even point out that it won't provide full coverage for a B or C cup bust). Shown on a tiny model, it looks lovely. I know someone who bought the pants, and the loosely woven chiffon tore under the weight of the bead clusters (not that they were heavy!) and kept on tearing, before she'd even started dancing. The same goes for cheap 'tourist tat' costumes, especially if the bra cups are shaped like cones or as two circles joined half-way up by a short strap. These often also have some sort of flower, target shape or a tassel on the nipple. Just don't go there.
• Start with accessories. However tempting it is because they are cheap, little elasticated wristlets with coins or a jingly ankle bracelet are the least of your needs and may not suit the style of the costume you're putting together. If anyone wants to buy these for you, encourage them to put a few quid into your costume fund instead!

Happy costume hunting!

Further reading:
You might want to look at a previous post when I was thinking about costuming a couple of years ago.
Shira's website is full of superb information, indispensable reading!

Finger Cymbals/Sagat/Zills

Finger cymbals, also known as Zills (from the Turkish Zilleri), Sagat/Sajat or Sunouj (Arabic), or Zang (Persian) are instruments used by musicians and dancers, particularly with Turkish, Ghawazee, American Cabaret (AmCab) and American/Improvised Tribal (ATS/ITS) styles of dance.  Played well, they can add a layer of shimmering, ringing, percussive sound to match or embellish the rhythms as a musical accompaniment.  Played badly, they create a clashing wall of sound which might still be useful for driving out demons, ex-boyfriends or other undesirables.

I started playing with finger cymbals almost from my first lesson. Not that I was really learning to play them, and I would still not say that I can truly dance and play finger cymbals well, but then I was always one for trying to run before I could walk. They are a fun prop for class when you feel like making some joyful noise, but some people really dislike the sound or having to try to coordinate another layer of movement, or both.

Finger cymbals for Middle Eastern music and dance usually come in sets of four, two for each hand. They are different to Tingsha bells, which are a pair of thick cymbals joined by a cord often used in Buddhist prayer and rituals, and often available in shops selling ethnic/world gifts and clothes. They are also not to be confused with finger cymbals sold by music shops, which often sell only one pair.

Finger cymbals come in a range of sizes, the most common having a diameter of about 5 cm (2 in), although some are quite tiny and others fairly large. Take a look on YouTube at Egyptian percussionist and dancer Karim Nagi and his masterful playing with large finger cymbals. They may be (sand) cast or pressed from various metal alloys. Makers commonly use brass rather than the bronze used for larger cymbals, but they may also use other alloys such as 'German silver'. Finger cymbals vary in appearance and may be shiny, dull, plain or engraved. Some may be plated or have some other surface finish in order to give a silvery colour or a brighter surface. The shape may vary, from almost flat with a very low dome in the centre, to a high dome and/or a raised rim. They may have a single, central hole for the elastic, or two slots. The different sizes, shapes, production methods and alloys will produce sounds that differ in pitch (the musical 'note'), tone, volume and resonance. The 'German silver' alloy cymbals often have a higher tone than their brass counterparts because of the different weight and nickel and silver content.

A dancer performing with an orchestra will need larger cymbals with more volume, whereas a cabaret dancer may want a more delicate sound. American Tribal Style dancers typically use larger cymbals with a more mellow or deeper tone. Dancers may select the cymbals for a particular piece according to their pitch, so that it suits the maqam of the piece of music. Or they may use sets of cymbals which produce different pitches for their right and left hands so that they can replicate and play with doum and tak sounds.

I was under the impression that zill and sagat were interchangeable names for finger cymbals, just in different languages, but I've learned from a Facebook discussion group that in general, sagat have one hole and zills, two slots. I'd also previously been told that the one-hole cymbals weren't 'professional' quality (implying the two-slot cymbals are) but I have a heap of cheap and nasty two-slot cymbals which I use for class practice, and have since learned that the one-hole cymbals can be high quality. However, the one-hole sagat tend not to have the prolonged ring of the two-slot zills and the playing technique differs a little, as they can be harder to control, especially if they have a loop of round, rather than flat, elastic. I've been given a set of sagat, and was pleasantly surprised at how well they ring and sound, but I find I cup my hands slightly more when playing them to keep them from wobbling so much on my fingers.

The cymbals are worn on the thumb and middle finger of each hand, just below the base of the finger nails. They need to fit snugly so that they don't slip around or come off . (As my friend Rose put it recently, there are two settings; cutting off the circulation or flying off the fingers!) This can feel very strange; so strange that it interrupts your normal physical feedback while you are dancing, so that at first you feel as though you can either move your fingers, or your body, or feet, but no two at the same time. The different sounds, patterns and drills are for another post, but it's important to get used to moving around while wearing and playing, even if at first you only do isolation and movement drills while wearing the finger cymbals but not playing them.

What did we do before we had elastic?
However they used to be secured, the usual method now is to have a short length of elastic threaded through the hole or slots. White gets dirty very quickly, so I use black for preference, although the teacher of one of the workshops I've been to likes gold lurex elastic, as it's appropriately shiny and less obvious than black. I liked the idea, but I couldn't find any to buy, so experimented with some off a gift box. I found it a bit prickly and irritating.

In fact, the teacher of every workshop I've been to has their own favourite type of elastic and way of  fastening and adjusting it; knotting it, sewing it, using safety pins, using metal or plastic adjusters (the same as used on bras and suspenders). I played with the latter a bit. One of the problems with this is finding an adjuster which is the right size for the elastic. Another problem is that it's a fiddle to get the elastic in because of the tight fit,  and despite this, it seems to slip. I used these for one performance and as I was putting them on just before going on, the elastic came pinging right out of one of the fasteners, and there wasn't the time or the light to get it back in again. I just had time to take them off and leave them on the sound desk before going on. Luckily the dance wasn't about them, they were just to be an accompaniment. After the same happened at a party recently, I've decided to stick with the little brass safety pins, which allow quick adjustment for different sized fingers and thumbs and a bit of tightening as the elastic loosens as it ages.

Having adjusted your elastics, you may find a noticeable difference between the loops for the thumb and finger cymbals. On your own set, you might want to mark which is which, although I don't bother. I've seen suggestions involving putting a dot of (bright) nail polish on the elastic on the 'inside' of the thumb cymbals, or use different colours of thread to sew the thumb and finger elastics, which is fine if you have some light, not so good in darkened wings. A more tactile solution is to sew a smallish bead to the thumb or finger elastics.

While I was writing this article, I was cleaning zills (removing tarnish and spots of corrosion with a metal cleaner and a soft cloth), checking and replacing elastics ready for the new dance term.  It's a good idea to have a safety pins and a set of spare elastics (4 pieces of 12 mm wide x 75 mm long elastic - braided is nicer than corded, if you can find it) in your 'emergency kit' for workshops and performance, but at a push, you can use a narrow hair elastic, looping it around a finger or thumb until it's tight. It works, although being a round elastic, is prone to wobble a bit. A Facebook belly buddy found this blog post using jersey hair elastics and this seems to be a good solution if you find elastics too uncomfortable, assuming you have or can find jersey hair elastics. It makes me wonder whether you could improvise some of these by cutting narrow rounds from the ankle of an old sock, or whether they would be too large. Maybe worth a go!

The photo shows a dozen sets of finger cymbals.
Top row, my Saroyan zills. Left, my originals, Arabesque II, awaiting a clean and new elastics. If you click on the photo for the large version, you might be able to see that one of the safety pins had corroded, leaving just the spike in the elastic. I found that the hard way as I fished these out of my performance case. The middle set are my 'newest' ones, not used yet, bought a couple of years ago (when Harry Saroyan announced his retirement and triggered a spot of panic buying! Fortunately, Saroyan are still going under new ownership. I can't remember which these are! Small Grecian, perhaps?).  The 12mm wide elastic is a snug fit and the trick is to put one corner up through the slot first, and use that to pull the elastic through. I played with using a hair elastic in one of them, just to see how it worked. Right, my Nefertitis with the offending slide adjusters.
On the middle row and bottom left, my latest acquisitions, second hand from another belly dance teacher who has thrown in the towel as far as teaching goes. Middle left, in the middle of cleaning - the brass ones seemed to tarnish and corrode more than the silver-coloured ones next to them, which need new, wider elastics. And middle right, more slide adjusters to be removed. Bottom left, I rather like the two-tone copper and brass. The elastic had totally gone. Bottom row middle, the single hole sagat with their raised rims. Bottom right, 4 assorted sets from my class zills. You can see spots of nail varnish on the elastics of the set on the right, used to differentiate my class zills from those of another teacher during a workshop where lots were needed.

What to look for when buying
The perennial question is, 'As a beginner, should I buy a cheap set or professional quality finger cymbals?'.

The main argument for buying a cheap, basic, first set is to save your money for finger cymbals to match your preference, once you've danced enough to know what that is! I would normally encourage a beginner to borrow some in class until they decide they want their own (hence my sets of 'class' zills). There's nothing wrong with buying cheap zills if you want some to play with at home. Little boxed sets of pressed zills with a little booklet and a belly bindi are often given as presents.  Most of my class zills are from these.  They sound pretty terrible, frankly, but these are perfectly good enough for a bit of fun and to find out whether you like playing finger cymbals.

Professional quality finger cymbals are generally larger, heavier gauge, and louder. The heavier gauge is more tiring to play with, so practice to strengthen and 'condition' the hands is a good thing. The louder tone means that mistakes are easier to hear! I found my first 'professional' zills deafening, compared to the cheap set I had. At 2.5"/6.5 cm, they were also about as large as I would like to go, considering that I have wide hands with short fingers. (The standard advice is not to get anything larger than slightly smaller than your palm, in which case I should be able to manage 3"/7.5 cm cymbals, but I find finger length makes a big difference.)

You can also find finger cymbals which are a good compromise; reasonable quality, but not as expensive as the 'high end' cymbals, with a much better tone than the cheap sets. In the UK, the best place to find these is through vendors such as Zara's Zouk and Farida Souk. Everything Egyptian no longer seems to sell online, but you can contact them if you know what you want.  Bellydance Boutique is now stocking some of the Saroyan zills as well. (This is correct at the time of writing, and no, unfortunately, I don't receive anything for these recommendations!)

When buying zills, you will want to check them for size, weight, tone and finish. I find it annoying when sellers do not have a 'test set' with the elastics set up, so that you can sound them out. Ask - a good vendor will oblige. Check the finish - some have rough or sharp edges, or surface damage from the casting or engraving which could snag on your costume, though I've never found this a problem with the high end zills. If you are buying online and concerned, just ask the vendor to check for you. The ones linked above will all be happy to help.

Then it's just a matter of learning to play and dance at the same time! Have fun!

Belly Dance Choreography (for Beginners)

'Traditionally', Belly Dance solos are improvised, created in the moment, the reactions to the music differing each time you hear the same piece, depending on your mood or what you hear or reflect from the music. Improvised performance can be a daunting prospect, so many beginners prefer the relative security offered by having a choreography to follow, and sooner or later want to create their own.

Creating choreography can be a challenge for any dance style and belly dance is no different. It's even more of a challenge when you're a beginner. My first solo went down well, but looking back, it was overly stuffed with moves and I didn't manage my spatial use and placement very well. If you're starting with your own solo or group choreographies, here are my top tips and things to think about!

Start with the music, not the moves! As a beginner, it can be difficult to know where to start when you only know a few 'moves', but you can get away with half a dozen moves in a simple choreography. Although 'belly dance' is an umbrella term covering many styles, in general the dance form is intensely music-driven. It's about interpreting the music and rhythms, more a way of moving than a set of steps. If you're working in a more contemporary or fusion way, you might want to start with a concept or theme, or even a prop. But music is still right up at the start of the process.

Choose music you like, which moves you, stirs something in you, makes you want to dance. You are going to be listening to the same piece over and over again. What is the mood of the music, what emotion does it stir in you?

What style of music is it? It's a good idea to match the style of your dance to the style and rhythms of the music.  Try to get a translation of any lyrics (but resist the temptation to mime them!).

Really listen to the music, the rhythm(s), the form (intro, verse, chorus, outro, repeats, call and response - labelling the different sections, e.g. Intro A Verse B, Chorus C, Bridge D, Outro E, you may find you have something which looks like ABCBCDBCE), the length of notes and phrases, changes in rhythm, tempo and other dynamics (loud/soft, stops/starts, flowing or percussive).

Improvise. Seriously, just dance without stopping or judging yourself and see what comes up. You might find that after dancing to the music a few times, the same moves come up in the same places, or you feel compelled to do a certain move at a particular point.

'Map out' the piece. From your notes on the form and dynamics, and observations of moves or phrases which you liked or found yourself repeating during your improvisation, you can start to do a rough choreography. It can be useful to set down the parts which seem obvious, such as an intro, big finish, and any repeats or chorus. Some people prefer to work from start to finish, but working in a non-linear way can help to prevent you getting 'stuck'.

Keep it simple. Restriction can be great for creativity. Use your favourite 'go to' moves and the moves you can do  technically well and suit your body to try to make the music, its rhythms and melody, visible; meet silence with stillness, reflect the length of notes in the duration of movements, solo instruments danced on the spot, using the noisy, joyful music to travel. But remember that less is more - you don't need to pack in lots of different moves.

Use repeats (wisely!). The usual thing is to repeat a dance combination when the music repeats. It can provide an 'anchor' for the audience and dancers alike, but it can get a bit tedious to do and to watch. Tricks to change it up include:

• Doing things 'on the other side', i.e. right and left sides.

• Passing the move up or down the body (e.g. hip circles, chest circles or shoulder shimmy, hip shimmy.

• Limiting or alternating repeated phrases.

• Repeating whole phrases instead of individual moves.

• Recognising call and response, reflecting them in different movement phrases.

• Working different directions, both in terms of facing different ways (it's surprising how different a move can look when you turn it side on, but be aware of how it looks from the audience point of view!) and of using different pathways in the space.

• The power of three; when you have a similar musical phrase repeated four times, you do the same thing three times and something else the fourth time.

So you could create a combination of phrases which you repeat, e.g. facing one front diagonal, repeat on the other side to the other front diagonal, back to the first side with your back to the audience, and a different combo to finish facing front.

Use your space. Don't forget that you can manage space by taking longer or shorter steps. If your choreography is for a duet, trio or group rather than solo, look at your spacing and pathways; even if you plan to do everything in unison, think about mirroring movements, changing formations, the details of movement which allow you all to look the same (such as how high an arm is raised, which way a hand turns), and the potential for not working completely in unison!

Work on your transitions, linking moves to make them flow smoothly.

Dance with your whole self. Put your heart into it, dance with expression, both through the dynamics of the moves, the use of gestures, and through your face.

And finally, ENJOY IT!

Cardigan Belly Dance Festival 2016

It seems impossible that that only a fortnight ago, we were mid-show at the 6th (yes, 6th!) Cardigan Belly Dance Festival. Our guest teacher Zara bravely took on a last minute challenge to do a children's workshop in the afternoon, as friends and family had descended unexpectedly on my dance-partner-in-crime Rose a few days before the weekend (so we were both having meltdowns!). The noise added a counterpoint to the rehearsals for our other guest teacher Siluria and her 'pop-up troupe'. Both sets of dancers were sorted out with costumes, ready to perform that evening. A last minute drop-out due to illness was replaced by a last minute drop-in, enabled by not working a shift after all. I had managed to organise a running order which enabled repeat performers to change costumes without being too frantic as well as roughly balancing the two halves, despite other last minute unknowns - a dancer with a very ill father, would she perform and how many pieces, and whether the children would want to perform. In the end, I ditched any thought of performing a solo piece, as I found myself frantically busy covering for another LIFT leader who gives four or five classes a week and who was off training for the middle two weeks of July. I also had to ditch any thoughts of going to the Foundation for Community Dance summer school, which clashed with the preparation week before the festival, and besides which was more than I could afford.

The show went without a hitch, thanks to our tech who has become used to working with us and, having received running order, start on/off cues and music, is a master at getting the most out of the limited lighting rig so we're well lit.

The children were so cute and could have taught the adults a thing or two about ditching the nerves and just getting out there to dance. Two of the girls had a bit of a costume malfunction where their skirts tangled as they turned, and they just stopped and sorted it out with no fuss, then picked up their cue from Zara again. What stars!

Lazlo's Bar

The pop-up troupe was a bit different this year. Working with Siluria and her husband Andy on live sax, the music and theme was taken from a piece called 'Lazlo's Bar' by their band, Rogora Khart. All of the Imago dancers also did the pop-up troupe. When I arrived at the theatre after lunch, it was great to see that they'd already got the choreography down and were sorting out costume and rehearsing in the afternoon session. The performance was great, the choreography picking up on the lyrics and creating the atmosphere of the bar.

Siluria's other two solos also used music by Rogora Khart. She has great flow and expression; her Sunday workshop was about getting more expression into the dance, and more connection with audience and other dancers.

The Imago piece was possibly the best we've ever performed it. It seems to have been a struggle this year, despite being shorter and simpler than the previous two pieces. It really confirmed to me that classes on only the first and third Wednesdays of the month (which was all the dancers felt they could afford and commit to) just isn't an effective way to learn and retain a choreography and sort out the technique, if the dancers also don't practise at home. We'd spent about 21 hours on the choreography and supporting technique over seven months, which proved long enough to have forgotten all the phrase-by-phrase break-down we'd started with and for bad habits and blocks to creep in. There must be something in the immediacy of learning a piece on the day, without having to commit it to long-term memory. How you can spend months on a piece and feel under-rehearsed, but not feel so under-rehearsed on a piece you learned (but don't really know!) in a day, just boggles my mind. Anyway, I was proud of everyone for their commitment, hard work and performance, and had some lovely feedback from the audience on how good we were, how nice we looked (all different bits of costume, but linked by top, bottom or both in shades of blue) and how much they liked the piece.

I was intensely proud of one of my dancers, who choreographed and performed her first solo. We'd had some rehearsal time, in which I'd given feedback and tips, but this was her creation and expression, a fusion piece which had the crowd clapping along. She worked extremely hard on it, with a quantum leap in improvement each time she rehearsed with me. It just goes to show, when you dance from the heart, you can perform and produce something that an audience can enjoy watching, without having good, much less perfect technique. (Although of course, we should all be working towards that, but just think what you and your audience could miss out on if you wait to perform until you or others think you're really quite good! But that's a whole other discussion and I digress!)

Juliana came down from north Wales to perform her fusion sword piece, one of those times when the dance ends and you feel as though you've just been released from a spell.

I admire my dance partner Rose greatly; she does separate choreographies for her handful of different groups and gets the best out of her dancers with some beautiful pieces. This year, one of her groups ordered made-to-measure galabeyas from Cairo via Zara's Zouk and they were gorgeous, and left me green with costume envy. Some of her dancers are now creating their own solos and duets, some of which had been shown for feedback at Yvette Cowles' weekend of workshops relating to dance drama and performance, and the polish which had been put on them since that weekend at the end of May was fabulous to see.

Tribal Unity Wales did a fast piece in the first half and a slower set in the second half, including a Puja to the most beautiful guitar music (although I still don't know what, or by whom, it was).

Zara also did a set comprising a high-energy raqs assaya, where her cane became a blur of silver, baladi which revelled in the music and a drum solo to top it all off. She brought the same energy to her workshop on empowerment through the dance the following day, where we walked around like divas, shouted across the space and found our centre of gravity and the source of our feminine power in our pelvis.

As it always does, the weekend flew by and it took me a few days to come down off the high.I still haven't unpacked and dealt with all the bits and pieces and operation 'reclaim the sewing table' has stalled because ... ah, that's a different post!