Photo by Dunya McPherson
Writer and dancer Alia Thabit says she trains
treasure hunters. And she wants you to know that every beautiful, magical jewel
you desire is waiting at your fingertips.
Forty years ago, she attended her first belly
dance class near her home in Brooklyn and was hooked. Love brought her to northern Vermont. She
stayed, raised her children, and earned a degree in creative writing from
Lyndon State College. Through it all,
she never stopped dancing.
Nor has she stopped pushing the limits of her
talents or curiosity. Thabit has studied
with world-renounced dance instructors, and has traveled the globe performing
and teaching. A few years ago, a broken
ankle taught her a lesson on the fragility of the body and urged her to focus
her energies.
That focus, combined with the perspective
gained through travel, has brought her to where she is today: a widely admired
and sought after instructor and mentor with much to say.
Known also as Oriental or Middle Eastern
dance, or raqs sharqi, belly dance, Thabit argues, is at a “cultural
crossroads.” A new book in the works explores what she calls the loss of the
“mystical core” of the evolving, ancient tradition she so loves, one that
offers “a magical key that unlocks artistic, physical, and spiritual
transformation.” Eschewing rote
mechanical technique, she encourages “embracing the soul” of the dance through
feeling and improvisation. In doing so,
she says, miracles and healing are within a dancer’s reach.
Beauty, magic, and power are words that
pepper Thabit’s writing and teaching, and they come easily to mind upon meeting
her. Gracious and self-effacing, she’d
like nothing more than for her students and readers see -- and to treasure -- those qualities in themselves.
As
your thousands of friends and followers on Facebook know, you rarely sit
still. You've danced and taught in six countries and 15 states. How has
travel enriched your life?
Travel
has helped me feel more confident, competent, and grounded. I'm from NYC
anyway, so I have a lot of navigation skills. But flying into foreign
countries, taking cabs with folks who don't speak English, and generally
traipsing around expecting everything to work out, you realize the overall goodness
of the people in the world.
Even
when stranded in Egypt during the revolution, people were unfailingly kind and
helpful. I've been lucky, yes, but I start from the belief that whatever
happens is the exact right thing and go from there. So far, so good.
Stranded
during the revolution?
I had
gone to Egypt with my friend Lisa for a dance camp on a Nile cruise boat. One
day the Internet just went away. Our final night in Aswan, there was a curfew.
Text messaging got shut down too. We had to hustle to get to our hotel. Then
the government closed the trains to stop people traveling to Cairo for the
demonstrations. Soldiers stood in formation in front of the train station.
Demonstrations and tear gas rocked the marketplace. It was pretty dramatic.
We
were stranded in Aswan for several days--most of which was kind of fun. Finally
airplanes started flying again, and we were able to go home--only one day past
our original plans, so that was pretty good.
Alia calling friends at the American embassy
while Lisa shows off the sign she got at the protest.
Luxor Egypt Jan, 2011. Photo courtesy Lisa Talmadge.
Luxor Egypt Jan, 2011. Photo courtesy Lisa Talmadge.
I
admire your solo drive across the country. Is there a journey that stands out
as most memorable? And has your sense of "home" changed over the
course of your travels?
Aw,
thanks! That first cross-country jaunt was pretty epic. The whole trip was
about 13,000 miles. My boyfriend William and I drove from Vermont via southern
Florida all the way to Portland, Oregon, then back down to his home in Santa
Barbara.
We
stopped in a dozen places to visit friends and dance. We only stayed in motels
I think three times the entire trip. One night we texted a friend in New York,
"Who do you know in Iowa?" He texted back in 5 minutes and sent us to
some great friends. We went to their daughter's dance recital.
The
whole way, I was teaching two sections of English online for Lyndon State
college. So I was constantly scanning for Wi-Fi, stopping at highway rest areas
and checking in to the course forums. It was really fun. I drove back across
the country by myself, visiting and dancing all the way. It was a little
weird to come back to Lyndonville and have everything be exactly the same when
I was so different.
How
were you different after that trip?
At first I felt trapped by the
sameness. But over time I’ve come to a place of understanding that I am now a
global citizen. So it is okay that Lyndonville and my house are the same,
because I am different. I am free. I can come and go.
You
have careers in two worlds -- academia and dance -- and you don't stand still
in either. As a teenager, you fell in love with dance, but then studied
creative writing at Lyndon State College, where you are a long-time instructor
of writing and research. Meanwhile, you've been teaching dance and
writing plays and novels. In "Midnight at the Crossroads: Has Belly Dance
Sold its Soul?" you've married your passions. Tell us about this new
book.
I've
been a writer even longer than I have a dancer. I won honorable mention in a
citywide writing contest at the age of 14. NY is a big city, so that is no mean
accomplishment. I still have the certificate--signed by Amiri Baraka. I began
dancing seriously at 16, though I remember tuning in on Monday nights for twist
lessons with Chubby Checker.
My
field is oriental dance, often known as belly dance. It is an ancient dance of
joy with a deep, deep core and a focus on improvisation, sensual experience,
and emotional expression. In the last decades, it has been pushed towards a
focus on choreography, spectacle, and stylization. I found this disturbing.
It's been exciting to write the book because of all the discoveries and
connections that continue to appear--from chaos theory and the Platonic ideal,
to snowflakes and blues music.
Snowflakes?
There
are some dramatic differences between Western dance and music and that of the
East (and by East, I mean to the lands of this dance—primarily the Near East
and North Africa). In the West, we value the Platonic Ideal--that there is a
perfect form to which we aspire. In Ballet, for example, moves are stylized and
must be repeated exactly. Classical music must be played as written.
However
in Eastern dance and music, everything is improvised. Dancers dance what they
feel from the music--and musicians play what they feel. Technique is the
servant of expression. Musicians pride themselves on never playing a song the
same way twice. This is a radical difference. Like the strange attractors of
chaos theory, any two moves will be similar, but not the same. In nature,
nothing is exactly the same--look at snowflakes. Our own Snowflake Bentley
never found two snowflakes the same.
Our American Blues masters are an exception, as they also pride themselves on never playing a song the same way twice. The Blues came from enslaved African musicians’ attempts to play notes that didn’t exist on Western instruments--and there is more and more evidence to show that many of the Africans here were Muslim, and this same music was their music. So we are maybe more connected to belly dance than we might think.
I’m
curious what your teenage self wrote to win that contest.
It was a play. I think it was a
playwriting contest. I don’t remember the story, except that the main
character’s brothers were attempting to build explosives.
When
and where can readers get their hands on a copy of Midnight at the Crossroads?
I expected to have the book published
by December, but it is taking longer than I expected. This is disappointing.
However, allowing the material to gestate longer has brought me to a deeper
understanding, so the book will be even richer when it is done.
What's
next for Alia Thabit?
Once the book is out, I'm gearing
up for a tour! It's going to be quite an exciting time.
To
follow the progress Midnight at the
Crossroads, please join the waiting list (and get some great sneak peeks
and treats), BellyDanceSoul.com. For
more about Alia, check out her site: AliaThabit.com