The Karmiel Dance Festival has come and gone. I was able to attend two
performances, one being a potpourri of international troupes, whose actual names
we were never mentioned. They came from Mexico, Brazil, Serbia, Turkey, Russian and
China (as well a local group of Yemenite dancers). Each performed two dances.
Like all good smorgasbords, while all came were good, I did not enjoy each one equally.
The interesting aspect, in retrospect, is the reasons for my preferences.
The groups from Mexico and Brazil both performed long couple suites. The
costumes were colorful and flowing while the music had a nice dancing pace.
However, the dancers from Mexico were energetic and enthusiastic. Their faces
expressed the joy they felt in dancing.
Couple dancing is fundamentally erotic foreplay. In their case, I could imagine them
celebrating the dance in private. By contrast, the Brazilian group seemed
distant from the audience and each other, with a few exceptions. In my mind, good dancing goes beyond
technical skill and must involve getting into the spirit of the music.
Two Balkan (in the dance meaning of the word) dance groups appeared. As
I have been dancing such dances for over 40 years, I can say that the Serbian
and Turkish troupes were both very authentic in both costumes and style.
Regarding the latter, the steps are small, precise and often quite quick,
which is deceiving simple to execute. Yet, I had a strong preference for the
Serbian group as their dancing felt as if it was genuinely being done in a
small village by people who know each other and enjoy each other’s company. By
contrast, the Turkish dance, whether because I am not fond of the sounds of
traditional Turkish instruments or the steps are so understated, seemed flat
and out of context to me. Traditional folk dancing is a social act, like going
on a walk with friends, and should express that context.
The Chinese and Russian troupes were more theatrical and performed
more choreographed and sophisticated dances. They were both quite skillful
whether in terms of the ability to jump, float around the stage or control
their hand movements. Still, I enjoyed the Chinese more than the Russian. The
reason may be that it was more novel to me, never having really seen Chinese
dance before, but I also enjoyed the image being represented, life in the
spring, I think. Between the costumes and the movement, it took me
away in some manner. The Russian dances involved the standard songs and steps made
famous by the Red Army Orchestra. The
steps involve primarily physical skill but seem, maybe unfairly, a cliché. In my eyes, performance dancing must somehow open
our eyes to something new.
None of the performances were poor.
Yet, I preferred those that expressed a spirit, context or idea. As they
say in Hebrew, על טעם וריח אין להתווכח [Al ta’am vereah ain lehitvakei’ah], which
means you can’t argue with taste and smell, or French, chacun à son gout; in short, in
dancing, there is no accounting for taste, even if I try to understand my own.
