Monday, November 30, 2009
A Cauliflower by any other Name....
Ever wonder how troupes come up with their names? Well, let me tell you, it is quite the process. My first troupe changed its name three times before it disbanded. What can I say? We were just students at the time; none of us had been in a professional belly dance troupe. There were so many names we admired, like “The Indigo”, “Ultra Gypsy”, “Zafira”, and “Red Lotus”. The names all had a certain ring to them.
We needed a name like that; one that would just roll off the tongue. After much debate (my suggestion was “Terciopelo", but it was vetoed) we came up with “Obsidian”. And all was great, until we realized that there was a group called “Obsidian Butterfly”. Too close for comfort. Plus, their name sounded better than ours.
I was riding the bus one day with my boyfriend, and with fellow troupe member, Tuana, and we were on quite the roll with ideas for a new troupe name. We liked “Kali”, because she’s a kick ass goddess, but thought the name would need something more. Kali Dancers? Kali’s Goddesses? Kali Serpents? That’s when I blurted out, “What about the Kali Flowers?”
I meant it as a joke, I swear, but Wilson and Tuana liked it. And so did the other troupe members. Kali Flowers. It’s funny, all right, but only if you read it. No one quite understood when someone announced the group. Cauliflowers? What does belly dance have to do with a vegetable?
So, “Kali Flowers” got ditched. The next name was voted in while I was on vacation, so I can’t take any credit. One of the members lived on Fell St., so the troupe became “Rue de Fell”. It sounds nice, unless you translate it to English. Which just proves that French is a nicer sounding language.
Obsidian/Kali Flowers/Rue de Fell eventually disbanded, and the troupe members have sinced moved on to bigger and better troupes (such as Jill Parker’s Foxglove Sweethearts, Miel, and Zadiraks).
It’s nice being under a troupe director. That way, if someone doesn’t like the name of the troupe, I don’t have to claim responsibility. Because when everyone asked us why we had named ourselves after a vegetable, all fingers had pointed at me.