belly dance

Professional Ambitions: Keys to Artistic Growth

Sophia Ravenna
I didn't start out life as a mermaid faerie queen.
I didn’t start out life as a mermaid faerie queen.

Welcome to the latest edition of my ongoing series “Professional Ambitions” which chronicles my journey to becoming a professional fusion belly dancer. The usual disclaimer applies, this is not expert career advice, these posts are based entirely on my opinions and experiences and your mileage may vary.

One key to longevity in any sort of artistic career is to continue to grow as an artist — this is especially important if you have your eyes on a career that will take you beyond the bounds of your own community. As a consumer of the arts, I am always drawn to people who constantly try new things and test their boundaries, so I try to be that sort of artist myself.

There are many ways to grow as an artist. I think that the most important one is to expose yourself to new ideas by consuming more art! They say that you can’t be a good writer without reading, and I think the same thing goes for dance. You can’t be a good dancer without watching dance. Watch belly dance. Watch other forms of dance. Take classes on choreography and combinations to get a close look at how another dancer thinks and creates.

But of course, you don’t have to limit yourself to dance. Consume whatever sort of art feeds your soul or makes you think. Go to a museum or a concert. Read a book. Heck, even just browse through Pinterest to soak up some interesting visuals. For that matter, consume some art that you don’t like, and ask yourself what you don’t like about it, and if you can find artistic merit in it despite it not being to your taste. Really think about art.

Once you have a head full of inspiration, it’s important to give yourself time to play. Make sure that in addition to drilling moves and developing or practicing any choreography for upcoming shows (if you choreograph) that you make time to do some improvisation. You may want to just put on music and do whatever comes naturally with no rules, or you may want to set some limitations or intentions, such as “I want to only use my arms for one song” or “I want to dance how I felt when I saw that one painting yesterday.” Film yourself, so that if you come up with anything cool you have a record and can try to duplicate it in a future choreography or structured improv.

Beyond that, to grow as an artist it’s important to get out of your comfort zone and be willing to fail. Once we gain a certain level of competency as dancers, it can be frustrating to tackle new material, because it’s HARD and we’ve already forgotten how hard the most basic belly dance moves were when we first started! Embrace the struggle. Fail in the classroom and in the studio and in your living room, then fall back on the easy stuff when you go on stage. Keep struggling in private so that someday you’ll have something new to show the public.

On an individual basis, I think there are two basic paths your growth can take: One would be to say “I want to completely master this one facet of belly dance, and I will dedicate all of my time and attention to it.” The other is to say “I want to be a very well-rounded belly dancer and I want to dedicate my time to being competent in these half dozen different styles that I enjoy.” Both of these are really valid options and I enjoy watching and learning from dancers who have taken both paths. You might not even know right away which you want to do… you may start out and try a bunch of different styles before one day throwing them all aside in the pursuit of one, or you may start out thinking you only care about one style but later on grow to love the variety.

When you have an idea of the direction you’d like to grow in, sit down with a teacher or mentor and get their advice on specific ways to help your growth. Your teacher or mentor may be able to give you some tailored private lessons for techniques that you can improve, and they may have recommendations for other teachers who have specialized knowledge that you need.

One more key component to growth: patience! Growth takes time and hard work. Sometimes you’ll hit a plateau and it will seem like you aren’t growing at all, and this is when it’s the hardest to be patient. Keep working, keep feeding your creativity with outside inspiration. You’ll get there in time.

Readers, I know I’ve only hit on a few techniques for artistic growth. Feel free to share your own advice in the comments!

Introversion, Social Anxiety, and Belly Dance Events

Sophia Ravenna
Get on stage in a tight skirt and a bra? Sure, no problem! Talk to strangers? Uhm, well...
Get on stage in a tight skirt and a bra? Sure, no problem! Talk to strangers? Uhm, well…

People are often surprised when they find out that a belly dancer is an introvert, shy, or socially anxious. “But you danced at that big event in front of all those people,” they say. Well sure, but I didn’t have to TALK to those people. I’m a lot more confident in my ability to perform a beautiful dance than I am in my ability to carry on a normal conversation.

I mentioned in my big Tribal Massive Recap that I had some moments of sadness and loneliness during the Massive. This happens to me a lot because I almost always travel alone, and I’m slow to make new friends. It really hit home for me after the Massive Showcase. I sat with people I didn’t know, who knew each other, and they talked a bit with me but mainly to each other. After the show I saw some of my friends from past events in the crowd, but they were all talking to other people. I literally found myself alone in a crowd of people, surrounded by people who were talking to each other while I felt totally isolated. I found myself asking “What am I even doing here?” and determined that I should just leave the casino and stand outside, alone, waiting for the shuttle. Luckily while I was slinking off, one of my classmates saw me and invited me to go grab some pizza with her and her friend while we waited, thus cutting my self-destructive spiral off before it could go too far, but I was feeling pretty low.

I’d say this happens at least once per event that I attend alone — I’ll either find myself feeling alone in a crowd, or once again eating dinner by myself and wishing I was sharing this amazing event with someone. It can often feel like everyone else is there with their troupe, or their best friend, or reconnecting with dancers they’ve met at previous events, and here I am, not just the only one from my town, but the only one from my entire STATE.

Of course, I realize that some of this is my own making. Because I’m shy, I wait for other people to approach me and then when they don’t, I think it’s because I’m not cool enough for them, or they don’t like me, without thinking that maybe they’re just as shy and lonely and thinking the same thing about me.

I’m starting to discover that this is one reason why I like events like the Massive, and 8 Elements and Mira’s NM Retreat. When I’m around the same 20 or so people for a week, I have time to warm up to them. I can see who giggles at a teacher’s sci-fi reference, or likes the same song I do, or shows up wearing a cool pair of green pants that I can comment on. And because we’re together for a week, there’s more chances to attach myself to a group that’s going to lunch together or otherwise make myself part of the gang.

I also really enjoy Waking Persephone, because while it’s more of a festival-style event, it’s still smaller than a TF or LVBDI so you see a lot of the same people over and over again in your workshops or in the halls… and the organizers recognize that a lot of nerdy, Gothy dancers who are drawn to an event like WP are also shy, awkward, and used to being “the weird one” at other dance events, so there’s a lot of ice breaker style moments, as well as a chill lounge to escape to when it gets to be too much.

I feel like this problem is something that it will take me a while to overcome. I hope that someday, I’ll be able to be the sort of dancer who is quick to introduce herself, quick to welcome someone new to the class, and quick to feel comfortable at an event full of strangers, but until that day comes I have to fight against the urge to withdraw and get even more anti-social when I decide, for no good reason, that I’m unwelcome or not good enough.

Fellow introvert dancers, feel free to share your struggles in the comments section. We’re all in this together!

Tribal Massive Recap

Sophia Ravenna
I did it!
I did it!

This is going to be a different sort of recap post (and thank you Jolie for suggesting what I was already leaning towards, which confirmed I was going in the right direction!). Instead of talking about each workshop and what I thought of it, I want to share some lessons I learned, and general feelings I had, and why this was such a valuable experience for me.

The first lesson is about being at once patience and persistent. I got my spot at the Massive by supporting a crowdfunding campaign where it was one of the backer rewards, and I had a lot of trouble actually claiming my reward. It reached a point where I started to feel like I didn’t even want to go to the event, it was going to be too stressful to organize the trip and I shouldn’t spend the money traveling, blah blah blah. I almost gave up, but it all worked out in the end, thanks to persistence and helpful friends and Tori herself.

The second lesson was about not letting others color my opinion of someone (within reason). There were a couple of teachers at this event that I had avoided studying with because friends of mine had said things about them that made it seem like they were not nice to be around. I actually enjoyed my classes with those teachers. From now on I am not going to pre-judge a dancer based on one person potentially meeting them on a bad day.

The third lesson was not to outright dismiss a teacher that said a few things I disagreed with. After all of the years I’ve been dancing, I have some pretty strong opinions about dance. Some teachers like to share their strong, dissenting opinions in class. Just because we disagree about something doesn’t mean they might not later say something that will actually hold real value for me, so I need to keep an open mind and listen to everything they said, and filter the good from the bad.

The fourth lesson was that I am not as bad as I think I am. I’ve been in a funk lately. I haven’t been able to pass the test for Cultivation. I haven’t been practicing much. I’m really unhappy to still be in Arizona. I looked at the schedule for my 37.5 hours of class and I felt like I was not going to be able to handle it. But you know what? I handled it. I only sat out of class once for about 5-10 minutes when my body was tired and my brain felt like it was leaking out my ears and I just needed to take a breather and watch before tackling the next class. And even then I was active, quietly mouthing the steps of the combination and echoing some of them in my hands and body to try to better understand it.

Speaking of understanding, my fifth lesson was to finally learn the value of taking a choreography or combo workshop as a method of getting into a dancer’s head and getting a better understanding of how dances are put together. Instead of stressing about trying to learn it perfectly, from now on I’ll approach combos and choreos with curiosity, to try to figure out why the dancer chose those moves.

The sixth lesson is that my feelings about a dancer as a performer and a teacher will not always line up. Although I think every one of the teachers at Massive was technically incredible and an important contributor to the genre, there are a couple whose dancing has never particularly inspired me, and yet I learned a LOT in their classes. There was another teacher whose dancing I really liked, but whose teaching style did not really align well with my learning style — I still learned a lot in her class but it was more of a struggle for me to approach the material. The side lesson from this is that it’s OK to feel “meh” about a dancer that almost everyone else seems to love watching. Art is subjective!

The seventh and final lesson was more of a reminder… But there’s still so much I can learn, and so much work I can do to improve myself as a dancer! That’s always the best lesson, when a teacher can send you out into the world with a few new tricks or idea, and a whole lot of inspiration for further exploration and practice.

Now for… feelings!

My biggest feeling is that I am so glad I did this, and I really want to find a way to go back next year. I’m pretty sure I’ve written before about how my interest is shifting away from festivals. They’re fun, but it’s hard to really learn a lot in 90-120 minutes with one teacher, and then move on to another teacher. There’s a real value in being in a track with a group of students and spending a long time with a single teacher or a handful of teachers. I really value the time I spent exploring the dance world at festivals, but at this stage in my journey I feel like I can benefit a lot more from the intensive format.

I’m also feeling a lot of gratitude for Tori and Yaniv, who run the Massive. I didn’t really interact with Yaniv, but Tori was around every day, and we were provided with both of their phone numbers in case we found ourselves lost, in danger, or in need of a friend. So often at larger events the organizers have their hands full and you almost never see them, but Tori was a constant presence and I felt like if I had had a problem, I could have turned to her at any time. She was so very helpful in getting me up to speed after my crowdfunding hassle. I also really appreciate some of the things they did to make the event more all-inclusive: show tickets and shuttle rides were included with the package, our class badge served as a VIP pass to get into the shows a few minutes early so students could have good seats, and we even got a little welcome bag with goodies and info on Vegas.

I’m not going to lie, I also had some sad and lonely feelings while I was there (more about that in its own, separate blog post). But in the end I left happy that I had made a few new friends, who I will hopefully cross paths with again in the future. I did get to see a few old friends too, but they were all in different tracks than me, so we mainly just had hugs in hallways or a few minutes to speak before or after the shows!

Over all, I’m left with the feeling that I am on the right path in life, balancing my time between freelance jobs that help pay for dance, and intense dance training. As little as some people might like it, it’s also the right decision for me to be moving on from AZ to someplace where I’ll have more opportunities for growth. I had a few great interactions with teachers that reminded me how much I love to learn, and left me feeling encouraged to keep learning more, whether it’s in the studio or in a book. This all cycles back to my first lesson: patience and persistence!