One of the interesting phenomena of Baladi, that films preserved for us, is the presence of non-Egyptian belly dancers. It is a historical as well as an artistic fact. By the mid-1800s Egypt was forcibly integrated in the economy of the Colonial World (or the Age of Empire as Hobsbawm would describe it) and thousands of Europeans flooded into Egypt, creating a very diverse and cosmopolitan atmosphere. They came from all places: Greece, Italy, England, France, Austria and so on. They built their own hospitals, schools, monasteries, shops, some of which still exist till this day.
Of course one can argue that such demographic phenomenon owes its raison d'etre completely to capitalist infiltration of the colonial economy. Egypt was forced to give favorable treatment to European merchants, companies and businessmen, not only that they had their own courts and were not subject to local jurisdiction or trials.
That is definitely an ugly side to such shining cosmopolitanism. But at its best this atmosphere of different cultures, nationalities, affinities and sense of openness motivated some of the expatriates and foreigners to embrace the culture and arts of the time and create a new and "modernized" version of the existing local idioms and tradition.
This happened in film, in music and Baladi was not far off when it came to "foreign" contribution and participation.
In this film, Khaleek Ma3a Allah (literally Stay with God), directed by Helmy Rafla (who not surprisingly made his debut in film working with, Togo Mizrahi, the Jewish Italian pioneer filmmaker) in 1954, we see the glamorous and vivacious Kitty dancing to the music of the very traditional singer and composer Mohamed Kahlawy (later turned into a singer of religious and spiritual music).
Kitty was Greek and Jewish and started her life by performing in Alexandria, little is known about how she learnt to bellydance, or who were her teachers. But from the dancing we can see that she mastered a lot of the traditional, classical repertoire: she is dancing to a live singer, she maintains her center when the movement is initiated from the pelvis, she is not seduced by the intensity of the rhythm to break into hysterical choreography other bellydancers usually fall trap to, she is very controlled when she wants to (most of the time), reminding us of the subtlety of someone like Houryah Mohamed or Tahya Karioka.
Yet we can not help but see the sudden twirls and turns, even the inexplicable jumps that come out of nowhere, completely unlike the more traditional performers and their style.
What is fascinating about Kitty is that she dances to one of the most traditional and "authentic" singers of the time. The music of Kahlawy, is strictly Egyptian in its format and sound. It employs the structure of the Mawwal, and the rhythm of local dances and music. That Kitty was not only able to dance to that, but also show a mastery of rhythm and movement is no small feat. Considering that she never entirely mastered the Arabic language (it is very clear from the obvious accent that she was famous for, and that everyone found so endearing back then) it is a great testament to her talent.
What is also interesting to see that she was able to use different styles of movements at the same time, without making them clash. So we see the soft undulations of the classic style, the lateral movement of the Gypsies and the Ghawazees, the more modern breaks of jumps and turns and swirls more reminiscent of someone like Samia Gamal for example.
Yet what is characteristically Kitty, is not only her mastery of different styles and traditions of movement, but the sheer exuberance she brings to her performance. She smiles, she laughs, she cajoles, she winks, Kitty brings a whole new dimension to the face. It is very hard not to notice her, or notice how her facial expression becomes part of the performance itself. If we compare that to Tahya for example, we would discover the almost shocking difference. Tahya always had this cryptic smile, making the audience feel that she knows some great mystery that they will never know and she holds them under her spell. Or Samia, who despite showing more range of emotions, her smile was never meant to be anything more than just a smile. A stylized facial expression that does not distract her or the audience from the dance. But with Kitty, her face is almost as important as her body is. She almost captivates everyone with her virtuosity as much as with her charm and alacrity.
Another fellow Greek dancer is Nadia Gamal. Who was also born in Alexandria sometime in the 1930s to a Greek father and an Italian and started dancing in Beirut at the start of her career. The similarity of her name to Samia Gamal, is not a coincidence, as it was Farid Al-Atrach who discovered her and gave her this name as contender to Samia.
In this dance from the film Izay Insak (literally How Can I forget you?) directed by Ahmed Badrakhan in 1956 we see her dancing also in a wedding, with the legendary singer Sabah, and the music composed, not surprisingly by Farid himself.
The music shows Farid's signiture complex orchestration and prominent use of strings (violins especially). What is unusual about this sketch, is it looks more like a song intermitten with dance, then a dance accompanying a song, like Kitty for example with Kahlway or Samia with Farid in their other films. The focus alternates between Sabah as a singer and Nadia as a dancer or performer. Maybe in a way showing the importance of Sabah not having to contest for attention from a fellow female performer, again unusual for its format, for example if we remember Akef and Fayza Ahmed, the focus did not really "alternate", they rather complemented each other.
The first thing one notices about Nadia's movement is how crowded it feels, there is a lot going on, there arms and shoulders, legs and pelvis, she never really gives anyone a proper chance to chart her movement through, she is doing everything all at once. Not only that, she is moving through the space as she does that. Not in the same way that Samia does, when she cuts diagonally through the space, holding a certain movement or gesture, no, Nadia moves everything along, while she traverses the space. A style of movement completely "foreign" to the more traditional way of dancing Baladi.
It almost feels hysterical. There is not the deliberate, controlled movement of someone like Tahaya or the intensity and control of Samia, there is almost a sense of "misunderstanding" the notion of what is virtuosity and how can one show it.
Something all foreign bellydancers will do later, is adopt this mistaken notion what is virtuosity and how can one show it while dancing.
What one feels while watching Nadia, is that the movement controls her and not the other way round. It is as if she is possessed by the movement and not that she possesses the movement. So we don't see isolation, which is a fundamental characteristic of a good bellydancer, there is not any subtlety, there is an impulsive, uncontrollable urge to capture the melody, the rhythm, the modulations, everything all at the same time, giving a sense that the person listening does not really understand the function of each of those elements independently and collectively.
When should one respond to the rhythm? When should a dancer take a cue from the melody? How to isolate? And so on.
Nadia does not show us that she understands how it all fits together, we see a very keen sense in performing the knowledge of Baladi, but not the actual practice itself.
Its as if someone speaking a new language and would all of sudden start conjugating everything at the same time, although there is no need for it.
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