The Nature of Drum Solos

In a belly dance set, the dancer usually begins with a slow piece of music, and then she might speed things up, incorporate props such as a veil or sword, and almost always, she performs a drum solo.

A drum solo? What exactly does that mean? The name sums it up; it's a dance performed solo to percussion instruments. This can mean a couple of different things, though. If the music is recorded, the dancer can choreograph her moves. If the dancer is familiar with the song, then she can quickly choreograph the song while she is dancing, even if the song is being played live. So, kind of half choreography and half improvisation.

And then there is the improvised drum solo- a dance made up on the spot to music the dancer has never heard. To an untrained dancer, the task would be impossible. And yet, once you understand how the rhythms work, you can improvise almost flawlessly; the audience wouldn't be able to guess that it wasn't choreographed.

Some drum solos are basic; you just have to look for the down beat, which usually comes on every second or fourth count. In the first class of Jill Parker's "Demystifying the Drum Solo" workshop, she had us walking around and hitting every single down beat. The result was a little sporadic, and at times I felt like I was doing the funky chicken, but the lesson was helpful in training my ear to hear the down beats.

Other drum solos aren't so easy. Sometimes the musicians are nice and they will repeat patterns of four, so that by the second or third time you hear the rhythm, you've got it down. Other musicians aren't so nice; they like to show off, to one-up the dancer, and the rhythms will be all over the place with no repeating patterns. Then you really would look like you were doing the funky chicken.

The best drum solos are when the musician and the dancer work as a team. The musician will play according to the dancer's tempo and vice-versa. Lots of eye contact is required! Think of it like partner dancing. But in this case, you don't need to worry about stepping on anyone's toes, except maybe your own.

Rachel Brice and Tutankhamun

Every Friday night, the De Young Museum in San Francisco hosts a free party, complete with music, performances, and activities. In celebration of the current Tutankhamun exhibit, the festivities have included whirling dervish, belly dancing by Rasa Vitalia, and an assortment of bands. Last night was the kicker, though, with Rachel Brice performing to live music by Ajyal (a local Bay Area band).
Rachel Brice is one of my belly dance heroes. She’s been studying, teaching, and performing for well over a decade, combining sensual yoga postures with slinky belly dance moves. Her body is as lithe as a snake’s, and her movements posses a fluidity that’s like watching a river; every pop, lock, rotation, and undulation is entwined together in continuous movement.
The crowd went wild for her last night. Her improvised drum solo had me in total admiration. The drummers were definitely not being easy on her- the rhythms changed after every fourth set, with no repetitions.
I had an interesting wake-up call right before Rachel went on. Pretty much everyone in the belly dance scene has heard of Rachel Brice; she’s world renowned- a house hold name in the dance studio. So, I actually felt surprised when a women went up to her and asked, “What’s your name, dear?” It seemed like the most absurd question in the world to me. But of course, lots of non-belly dancers don’t know who she is. I guess sometimes I forget that not everyone belly dances!
After being dazzled by both Rachel Brice and Ajyal, I submersed myself in the world of Tutankhamun. Also known as King Tut, Tutankhamun became ruler of Egypt at the ripe old age of nine. He was considered a deity by many, and died mysetriously at the age of nineteen.
His tomb was found in 1922 and was a hidden trove of treasures. I can't even imagine how the discoverers must have felt. All that gold! Gilded coffins, statues, sparkling jewelery, and intricate details on every piece. It was almost mind-blowing to look at the artifacts knowing that they were over 3,000 years old.
Also a little mind-blowing was that so much of the jewelery resembled the jewelery that belly dancers wear today. Fascinating that a 3,000 year old necklace could look so familiar. I even have a necklace with similar beading to a chest piece that Tutankhamun used to wear. But I bet there’s quite a difference in the price! I wonder if anyone would notice if I swapped my piece for King Tut's...

C'est Mécanique!

In a tucked away spot on Pier 45 of San Francisco’s Fisherman’s Wharf, there is a delightful museum of vintage music boxes, antique arcade machines, dioramas of circuses and carnivals, and a gypsy who will tell your fortune for fifty cents. Old-fashioned organ grinder music fills the space with haunting melodies. Combined with the salty smell of the bay, the wonders at Musée Mécanique transport you to a carnival of a different era- the only thing missing is the prizes and the cotton candy. They even have a miniature Ferris wheel.
Entry is free, but bring a pocket full of dimes and quarters if you want to operate the machines. There are little “theatres” that will show you an old-time execution for twenty-five cents. Kind of gruesome, but they’re only puppets. The dioramas are large and fantastic with twinkling lights, music, and moving parts; the whole scene will come to life. The overall effect is a little spooky, with the frightening laughs from “Laffing Sal” and all the mechanical noises in the air, but it just adds another element to the spectacle.
Of course, you don’t want to miss the belly dance peepshow. And for less than a quarter! Although, you should be aware that it’s a mini, puppet belly dancer that will be dancing in the box; if you want to see real thing, you’re going to have to work a lot harder than just depositing a few dimes into a coin slot.
By far, my favorite thing about Musée Mécanique is the music. As a tribal fusion belly dancer, I have a lot of freedom to step out of the bonds of traditional middle eastern music when I choreograph dance pieces. The result has been choreography done to rock, Balkan music, and 1930s jazz, to name a few. There are CDs for sale at Musée Mécanique that feature organ grinders, accordions, and other circus-like instruments. It makes me want to run away and join a circus, become a belly dance sideshow performer.
However, there isn’t much of a chance of that actually happening, and instead I’ll opt for surrounding myself with the mystique of Musée Mécanique. At least, for now.

*The story of how the museum began is a worthwhile read on its website: www.museemechanique.org

Warming up on the Spot!

Sometimes, the unexpected can happen when you go to a belly dance class. Like being in a rush and finding out when you arrive that you need to lead the warm-up. I've taught warm-ups before, in my own classes, but this was Jill Parker's class- meaning it was packed with over thirty women. And, of course, I had nothing prepared. Nerves almost got the better of me, but twenty-five minutes of stretches and abdominal conditioning went by faster than I thought it would. Also, I kind of got my wish....

I met with Jill Parker for lunch last week. After being away for four months, I was feeling disconnected from the dance scene and wanted some advice from one of my mentors. Well, subbing for her warm-up on Saturday was a great way to reconnect with everyone. People came up to me after class and thanked me for doing a good job. People introduced themselves and asked me my name. And Jill was grateful that someone had been available to fill in for her last minute. Having your car break down while you're on your way to teach a class has got to be stressful!

It was my first time leading such a large class, and I was thankful for the experience. And i

t made me miss teaching my own classes. Performing and teaching are entirely different from each other. You don't need to be in character when you teach. You can pause, take breaks, and not worry about remembering the choreography. And you get to talk. I am such a talker, and half the fun of teaching a class is explaining things. There is so much history behind the movements in belly dance. There are so many ways in which the movements can affect your body.