Belly up ... to the latest dance fad that's shaking up the Northwest

By Brangien Davis
Special to The Seattle Times

	MARK HARRISON / THE SEATTLE TIMES Kendra Schmidt, left, and Karn Junkinsmith dance at the Capitol Hill Arts Center the first Monday of every month with the Hands of Kali group. The group's founder calls its brand "modern urban experimental belly dance."
	E-mail this article Print this article Search archive Related stories See bellies

Have you recently experienced a ringing in your ears? A sort of rhythmic cling-cling resembling finger cymbals? You may be surrounded by belly dancers and not even know it.

Like superheroes, most recreational belly dancers hold regular jobs during the day. They are veterinarians and massage therapists; they work for architectural firms, Nordstrom and REI.

Look sharp! Notice any stray sequins around the office?

"Belly dancing is a revolution," says Delilah Flynn, a Seattleite and longtime performer and teacher of the abs-obsessed art form. As if the Seattle arrival of the commercially successful Belly Dance Superstars tour isn't evidence enough, telltale undulations also can be seen in music videos starring the likes of Britney Spears and Shakira.

Practitioners claim that these days there are more women belly dancing in America than in any other country. Clearly, there's a whole lotta shakin' going on.

Roots lie in Middle East

The history of belly dancing is elusive. Most agree that it comes from somewhere in the Middle East, where it was used for fertility rituals and wedding celebrations. Some purport there's evidence of the dance in Egyptian cave paintings from 5000 B.C. and of finger cymbals being used in Tunisia in 500 B.C. Gypsies are often cited as carriers; their nomadic lifestyle is thought to have spread the dance's popularity.

	JEFFREY MAYER The Belly Dance Superstars are on a whirlwind 58-city tour, and the nearly three-hour, Las Vegas style show will shimmy into Seattle on April 10 at the Century Ballroom.

Apparently belly dancing made its American entrance at the 1893 World's Fair, where it scandalized the buttoned-up Victorian audience. (And we thought our era was the first to be outraged by wardrobe malfunctions.) Though it is highly unlikely than any stripping took place, the style was quickly labeled as naughty burlesque.

Today, belly dancing can be categorized into two main styles. "Cabaret" is what you're most likely familiar with from movies: a solo performer dancing in an ornately sequined, revealing outfit. This style is known as the original, coming from Egypt, Greece, Turkey or East India.

The other popular form is known as "tribal," which is an entirely American product, reportedly created by the Fat Chance Belly Dance school in San Francisco in 1987. Tribal belly dancing added Spanish, Afghan and Indian traditions to the mix. In this style it's customary for groups of women perform all at the same time.

Seattle-based Troupe Hipnotica, which has been together for two years, performs exclusively in the tribal style. "There's a playful quality to it," says Julia Demarest, a graduate student in social work who's been dancing with Troupe Hipnotica since its inception. "It's dancing with women with whom you are in constant nonverbal communication."

It's not about the men

The woman-to-woman connection is a major draw for most belly dancers.

"The subscription base is female," says Flynn, on the phone from Maui, Hawaii, where she is leading a 10-day belly dance retreat culminating with a dance into the sea. "It's not about the stimulation of men, or making your man a sultan. It's an art form cultivated by women, for women to enjoy. It's about birth and this special ability we have."

While perhaps not overtly feminist, belly dancing is about women's empowerment. "It's a dance of isolations," Flynn explains, meaning that you learn to move your body parts — hips, knees, shoulders — independently from each other. "It's giving voice and skills to different body parts. If you have control over every part of your body, it's going to translate to the rest of your life."

Belly dancers want to make clear that the dance has its roots in community celebrations, not strip clubs. "Because women have used the costumes in strip routines, the line has become blurred," says Dondi Dahlin, performer and emcee for the Belly Dance Superstars. "But it's by no means a sexual entertainment in the Middle East. It's about good luck and fertility and good health."

Another factor that attracts novices to the navel arts is that belly dancing is one of the few dance forms that doesn't require its participants to be young and thin. "Women in our culture are so freaked out about bodies and weight," says Flynn.

"Belly dancing is accepting of all ages and body types," adds Adriene Rice, who directs Troupe Hipnotica (in addition to her day job in cosmetics marketing at Nordstrom).

"A lot of people approach belly dancing as exercise, but they aren't trying to get skinny, they're just trying to get in touch with themselves."

A glamorous approach

The range of body shapes normally associated with belly dancing is not, however, represented by the Belly Dance Superstars. Currently on a whirlwind 58-city tour, the nearly three-hour, Las Vegas style show will shimmy into Seattle on April 10 at Century Ballroom. The Superstars' Web site features countless photos of the 12 dancers, all of whom appear thin and glamorous and sexy.

The Superstars are the brainchild of Miles Copeland, former manager of the rock band the Police, who envisioned a sort of Middle Eastern "Riverdance."

He traveled the country in search of the "highest caliber" cabaret performers, and started the show as an adjunct to the 2003 Lollapalooza tour. The show features solo and ensemble performances, with big production numbers, including a fire piece.

Some longtime belly dancers feel this Hollywood approach is too commercial. "Belly dance is something that's cultivated by women on a ground-level approach," says Flynn, "Not this skyrocketing male approach."

But Copeland makes no apologies for the style and substance of the Superstars show. "If I'm going to be a service to belly dancing, I need to take it to a bigger audience," he says. "Which means I need to have people on stage who look like the bulk of people want them to look. The bottom line is, do I want to pay money to watch this person on stage?"

Documentary planned

Copeland knows this can be a controversial view and invites people to watch for "American Belly Dancer," a feature-length documentary due out this summer, which traces the Superstars' inception and raises the question of exploitation.

Most local belly dancers feel the Superstars will ultimately be a good thing for the art form. "As a mainstream tour, the Superstars are a sign that belly dancing is getting more popular," says Rice.

Ellen Boyd, a belly dancer and veterinarian, points out, "None of us were born in that tradition — it's an experiment for all of us, so people can make it whatever they want."

Her recently formed group Hands of Kali is doing just that. Rather than committing to cabaret or tribal style, Boyd calls their brand "modern urban experimental belly dance."

"I'm excited about the Superstars," says Kendra Schmidt, also with Hands of Kali. "I'm happy to see (belly dancing) coming out of the closet — that it's popular enough to get larger venues and higher ticket prices."

Upon further reflection, Schmidt, who works at REI, adds, "Those women look like supermodels, and they have expensive costumes and manicures, which takes some of the folk element away from it. But I think there's room for both."

Feminine or feminist, sexy or subversive, there's always room for more dancing bellies. And remember, they're closer than you might think.

Brangien Davis: brangiendavis@yahoo.com

Copyright © 2004 The Seattle Times Company