Master’s Thesis in Cultural and Social Anthropology
Telling Stories of Strength: This is Belly Dance!
Supervisor: Dr. Y. M. van Ede Student: Idil Kadioglu Second Readers: Student Number: 11137312 Dr. A.T. Starting idilkadioglu@sabanciuniv.edu Dr. C. H. Harris
ABSTRACT
How are the expressions in the choreographies of Turkish-German professional belly dancers? Belly dance has not been a very familiar topic scholars engaged themselves with (Shay & Wood 1976: 18). This research attempts to address the gap in this field through the experiences of ethnically Turkish professional belly dancers in Berlin. Several theories will be used, such as the three capitals by Bourdieu, the notion of hegemony by Gramsci, the concepts of performativity and subversiveness by Butler. I also found it relevant to use the Aristotelian term “Catharsis”, despite the fact that this concept is usually applied to works of literature or drama. Connected to catharsis, I am discussing the centrality of the sense of kinaesthesia for my interlocutors.
The profession belly dancers with Turkish background in Berlin are emotionally distant to their Turkish ethnicity, but are open to draw from it in shaping their dance career. They have first experienced belly dancing in the Turkish community as children, and have obtained an embodied capital. The kinaesthetic pleasure they drive from it occupied more and more place in their lives as they faced limited possibilities in the system for socio economic fullfillment. Building on top of their embodied capital, they obtained an institutionalized capital to operate in the global belly dance market. They face the pressures of operating within this market through hegemonic notions of body image, and heteronormative notions, and resist these through building boundaries and preserving their own sensoria. In their choreographies, their own gender identities and ideas of attractiveness and sexuality is reflected.
INTRODUCTION: The Dive
Düm-teke-düm-teke-düm-teke-düm-tek! Listen to the powerful sound of the drum beats. As you listen, you can start to feel something happening, something awakening within your body. You react immediately with your head, shaking it up and down, where you feel the response to the beat of the drums. Then, drop by drop, but also with something much stronger than the drops, it enters your chest, ribcage and lungs, by going down your neck. As it passes your ribcage and starts to enter your belly, your feet have already started moving and are also directing, responding, dancing to the beat. The music rises, from your ankles up, and suddenly, they meet under your belly button, merge into a single swirl, the backs of your knees, your hips, your wing bones, they are all vibrating and active. Your feel excited, fully alive and overwhelmed by something bigger and untouchable yet so innate and physical. You start to move, first again your feet, taking a couple of steps forth and back. Then…. Your belly takes over as it forever knew what to do… You move your belly to the beat of the drums, as if you have discovered the drum of your own very body. You give in to the music, your arms and hands declaring their freedom from you, finding their own way in the space while making rolls and small circles. The beats turn into full music and you do let yourself go to the melody.
xxx
My main motivation for conducting this research has been a desire to find out about the experience of the professional Turkish belly dancers in Berlin. How is the belly dance experience of the Turkish professional dancers in Berlin? Perhaps it was a grassroot movement, a desire to embrace their ethnic roots. This was the first answer which had come into my mind, but my pre-field research made it clear that it was not a phenomenon which could easily be explained by that formulation. I came across performances not solely in the Turkish community but in a broad array of contexts, from summer festivals to elderly homes to LGBTTQ nightclubs.These early
observations made me feel that the Turkish belly dance in Berlin was a rather complicated phenomenon.
The Turkish community in Berlin was designated in the literature as having been “stuck between two worlds” because of the earlier experiences of the first wave migrants in Germany (Fındıkçıoğlu, 2012: 17) Recently, the conceptualization has taken a more positive turn, as over the decades Turkish people have formed closer relationships with the German society. As many
cultural figures successfully integrated, the conceptualizations came to be portrayed in a positive light, such as “describing the experience as “enjoying both worlds” and “transcending the national categories”. This research discusses the socio-economic and sensory factors behind the reason of my interlocutors’ choice of a belly dancing career. I will discuss how my interlocutors’ experience could contribute to the debates on the cultural identity of the Turkish diaspora in Germany.
More positive conceptualizations have emerged in the recent literature, such as
“encompassing both worlds” (Diessel, 2001) My interlocutors themselves had various differing positions on their self-conceptualizations, Suzan and Zadiel saw themselves as German, and did not like the hybrid term “Turkish-German”, whereas Nilay saw herself stuck between both worlds, and Cihangir reflected the term of encompassing both worlds.
Previous studies have examined the Turkish-German musical cultures, from traditional saz instrumentalists to modern fusion of oriental hip hop, but there has been no previous study done on the belly dance culture of the Turkish-Germans in Berlin. How does a body, a belly dancing body express or construct the cultural and gender identities of individuals or groups? I will refer to the social conditions which lead up to their choosing the career of professional belly dancing, and focus on the significance of belly dancing for them personally, especially their gender and sexual identity.
My fieldwork has been an experience resembling free diving; the form of diving without oxygen tanks. The first month, our exchanges have mostly been about outward appearances and forms, for example comparing Arabic style to the Turkish one. As time progressed and my
“the free fall”, the state in which the diver is deeper than 15-20 meters and the human body has lost its property of buoyancy, effortlessly sinking into the depths of the water. From then on, the information exchange with my interlocutors has been rapid, intimate and abundant, exactly the sense of allowing one’s self to dive without buoyancy in the depths of water. Therefore, I have decided to explain my ethnographical journey as if it is a journey under the sea.
The Introduction is called “Holding Breath”. The First Chapter is “The Surface”. The Second Chapter is “The First 15 Meters”, because it is after 15 meters that the human body loses its buoyancy and begins to sink into the state of free fall. The Third Chapter, where I get the most intimate information from my interlocutors in a high speed is “The Free Fall”. and the Conclusion is “Resurfacing”.
Wouldn’t the image of a dancer have been more appropriate rather than a diver? The whole subject of the thesis is dance, and the body parts of the belly and hips. For three months I have observed, talked about, wrote about dance as well as dancing myself. But the metaphor which best describes my journey is diving rather than dancing. My project is about dance, but it is also a dive through dance. At first I had trouble holding my breath and going down. I was instinctively scared of the process of letting go of my body in “free fall”. But after a first few unsuccessful attempts due to inexperience or irrational fear, I soon let go of my weight and started to move effortlessly.
The key point here is that the water has always been a very important imagery in my sensoria and kinaesthesia as an ethnographer and as a dancer. I grew up by the Bosphorus and us Istanbul people say, “We can’t live in a place with no water.” My fieldwork in Berlin was
interestingly also often near water; near Spree, near the canals, near the parks… Belly dance is not just a dance for me, but is a flow, a way of moving, forever intertwined with the lights reflecting from the Bosphorus strait into the moist air. Therefore the free diver metaphor seemed appropriate for my field Berlin too.
Theoretical Framework
My main research question is “How are the belly dance experiences of the dance professionals with Turkish background in Berlin?”. In Chapter One, I am drawing from sensory ethnography and informing the reader about the specific kinaesthetic experience of my interlocutors. I argue that my interlocutor’s choreographies challenge the Carthesian split between mind and body because they have integrated intellect into their dance. I am referring to the work of sensory ethnographers such as Yolanda van Ede. In Chapter Two, I will discuss the global belly dance market and how my interlocutors navigate through it by utilizing Bourdieu’s concept of the cultural capital. On the third
and final chapter, I discuss gender and sexual identity in relation to hegemonic (Gramsci, 2004), neoliberal beauty ideas and how my interlocutors challenge, refuse to accept, and negotiate with these ideas. I am using Judith Butler’s concepts of parody and subversiveness when analyzing the performances of my male interlocutors. In conclusion, all of these different theories come together to explain the singular phenomenon of belly dancing in the specific context of the Turkish diaspora in Berlin. I found the concept of “subversion” of Butler to be appropriate to use in all three of my chapters, since my interlocutors challenged and subverted notions of ocularcentricism and institutional capital in the Berlin belly dance scene.
Methodology
As my methodology, I have combined several methods together in order to achieve the precise answer in each setting. My main focus was on kinaesthesia, the sensory relationship I had formed with my interlocutors over the three months, by dancing with them. This resulted in data of their kinaesthetic expression and allowed me to relate with them on a deeper level and ask more
specific questions. I have followed the example that in order to understand the sensory world of the interlocutors, the researcher has to also embody these experiences (van Ede, 2009). It allowed me to address the issue on the same level as my interlocutors, within the same object: within the body and the dance. Taking their dance lessons, establishing a kinaesthetic, embodied relationship with them helped me to connect with them from a deeper place. In a way, dancing together creates the effect of mirroring each other, also a visual-kinaesthetic phenomenon. Mirroring creates a social-emotional bond, through moving together. This mirroring is the basis of my bond with my
interlocutors.
The possible problem which could arise with this methodology was the differences in perception about kinaesthesia between me and my interlocutors. In order to avoid this prospective problem, I gave my interlocutors body maps to experiment on. This way, they had a chance to visualize and represent their kinaesthetic experiences in yet another way.
Despite the fact that a significant part of my methodology is focused on kinaesthesia, verbal data, meaning interviews have been a very important source of data in my research. I have both conducted semi-structured formal interviews and informal interviews depending on the context. My interlocutors have been very informative especially during informal interviews and shared with me their thoughts on both dance and their personal lives. Interestingly, talking, has been as important as dancing for this project.
In the context of performances, Observing has been my main method. In dance classes, observation and kinaesthesia went hand in hand, and at times it was difficult to engage in both. Observing required the exercise of analyzing and trying to put meaning on outward symbols, behaviours and appearances of people, whereas dancing required shifting this analysis mostly to one’s own body. This interesting challenge resulted in both data about the general information and the kinaesthetic experience.
CHAPTER 1: HOLDING BREATH
Belly Dance Ethnography and The Sensory Journey
“If I could say it, I wouldn’t have to dance it.”
-Isadora Duncan
In this Chapter, I will discuss the sensory dimension of my interlocutors’ dance, through the concepts of kinaesthesia and catharsis. I will explain how my interlocutors combine specific
sensory stimuli with intellectual thought and challenge the classical Carthesian mind-and-body duality. I will further depict how this sensory dimension is integral in addressing the issues of cultural identity and gender, two topics which are further explored in Chapters 2 and 3. As the conclusion of this chapter, I will focus on the Aristotalean concept Catharsis, which will be
contextualised as the therapeutic feelings described by my interlocutors as a result of kinaesthesia.
1.1 Kinaesthesia
Kinaesthesia is defined as a phenomenon related to the sense of touch. Van Ede discusses that this is not necessarily an external touch, rather it is the sensation acquired by one’s own movements, the stimulus from the movement one makes (2009:61). Senses other than sight have been obscured to the point of denial in the process of rise and establishment of the European scientific thought. The sense of touch has been categorised as “inferior” to the sense of sight. It has been obscured and undervalued. The sense of touch has been the least favoured sense for centuries in the rise of “Western” civilisation and has been highly regulated and controlled across the social strata. The sense of touch, along with taste and smell, has been seen as unintellectual.
This conceptualisation of the senses found their reflections within the stratification of the society. Whereas the sight has been associated with the upper class, the sense of touch has been associated with the working class. This obscurity of the sense of kinaesthesia is interestingly coherent with the obstruction of the Turkish workers in Berlin. In an interesting way, this “dismissal” has given the space to my interlocutors, who are working class, to embrace this sense of
kinaesthesia and turn it into a life-long career. They have been discriminated from wider
participation in society because they were the working class composed of “foreigners”. They are still discriminated in the sense of access to various social positions.
Therefore, it has been possible for my interlocutors to build on the sensory kinaesthetic pleasure they have experienced in their social communities. They had the relative “freedom” one has in a lower socio-economic position and does not have the means to social mobility. In urban contexts, the development of new and highly complex dance and music forms have been associated with economically disadvantaged neighbourhoods, such as breakdancing, azonto, tango(Savigliano, 2004:69), salsa (Waxer, 2002:5).The working class youth, usually composed of migrants, were pushed to the margins of society, and as a result they had more space to physically interact with each other and to focus on the sense of kinaesthesia.
The association of the working class with the sense of touch combination is not challenged up to this point. On the contrary, the events leading up to my interlocutors chosing a dance career seems to be in accordance with the Carthesian dualism: because they did not have access to upwards mobility, they had more space to give in their lives for their sensory stimulation. This does not have to be taken negatively, since I do not agree with the ocularocentric stratification of the senses, which I will discuss in the rest of this chapter.
The point I would like to discuss further and challenge the Carthesian dualism is the strong intellectualism of my interlocutors. Having more space for kinaesthetic activity does not have to mean having less place for intellectualism. Over the three months, they presented their own
analysis, conclusion and solutions to me on the subjects of dance, identity and culture. It could be conceptualised that their own unique stance and expression is a direct challenge to the tradition of the Carthesian construction of mind-body duality. Suzan, when explaining her body maps to me, said that the emotional expression which naturally came to her was not enough when
choreographing or constructing dances, she needed an intellectual inspiration, an original idea to make the dance complete. This can be seen in her body map in the Figure 1.1
Fig. 1.1 Suzan’s body map, titled “Sometimes it Starts From..” Fig 1.2 Zoomed in version of Fig 1.1
I had asked Suzan to play with these maps, to draw on them whatever she wanted, however she wanted between her dance practices. In this particular map, Suzan has written “Sometimes it starts from…” on the top of the page and has marked arrows on the head of the figure. It seems like the movement is starting from the mind and spreads towards the feet. I asked Suzan to describe me what she meant by the arrows. “Sometimes I feel like the dance is not complete without an idea.” she explained. “Passion, senses, emotions, these are sometimes indeed not enough to create a dance. I need something more!”
Perhaps the idea which needs to be challenged here is the notion that touch and “sight”, meaning body and mind cannot be present in an integrated whole. The judgment is that if there is a belly dancing body, there could not be an abstract thinking mind involved in the process. The very drawing of Suzan creates a counterargument to this formulation. She mentions “passion, senses, emotions”, which are at a grey area in terms of classification. Are emotions to be categorised under the mind or the body? Is passion of the mind or the body? On top of these grey-area concepts, Suzan has represented an embodied intellect in her drawing. She has depicted how a mental picture, an inspiration of an idea for a choreography, a bodily movement emerges from the mind.
Another example I would like to give is the immense efforts of research Cihangir puts into the creation of his dance pieces. He engages in long processes of cultural and historical research before creating his choreographies and costumes, going through art history books, encyclopedias, Ottoman divan (palace) poetry, trying to find the sources which describe the historical male belly dancer, the köçek and the traditional drag belly dancer, the zenne. After he has obtained enough information about the köçek and the zenne, he creates his dances according to the knowledge he has accumulated.
He also performs in drag, giving life to the character Lale Lokum, meaning Tulip Turkish Delight. In his shows of Lale Lokum, he engages in an exaggerated manner of depicting a hyper feminine dancer who is also not afraid of engaging in behaviour usually associated with the working class; such as chewing gum in an exaggerated manner or acting overly-clumsy. In this way, there is also en element of burlesque in his drag shows. He is mocking the institutionalized belly dance, of which I will be speaking of more in the next Chapter. He is using highly intellectual elements to create an embodied humour. How does the embodied intellect challenge the
conceptualization of the hierarchy of the mind and the body?
As a fourth dimension to Cihangir’s artistic personality, he draws caricatures Lale Lokum and shares them on his personal Facebook page. In these cartoons, he usually makes social and political commentary by using the medium of belly dance.
Not only do my interlocutors embody and express intellectualism in their works, they are also highly reflective and critical in their personal lives. They brought up discussions about political philosophy without me bringing up the topic. All of my interlocutors have brought up the subject of Turkish politics, and have commented on the controversial president Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, either positively or negatively, since he has been turned into a contemporary symbol of Turkish politics. Nilay, my interlocutor who feels stuck between the dichotomy of Turkishness-versus-Germanness, claims that her dream was to go into politics and elaborately told me her ideas to resolve certain conflicts and problems she observed in German society and was had a reaction against. Their intellectualism and political consciousness could also be presented as a counter-example to the statement that the bodily and the intellectual do not go together. Therefore none of my interlocutors could be fit to the solely “body” category of the dichotomy.
Interestingly, their intellectualism also subverted our roles as the ethnographer and the interlocutor from time to time during the field. As I was interviewing her about the differences between Turkish and Arabic dance styles, Suzan asked me “But who do you think performs Turkish belly dance? Even Didem is highly influenced from Russian and Ukranian dancers.” Her question took me aback at first, subverting our roles of the interviewer and the interviewee. The conclusion which could be derived from this is that while there could be possible connections between coming from a disadvantaged segment society and having more space for sensory stimulus, driving the result that this is because kinaesthesia must also be positioned in a lower position to other senses in the hierarchy. Consumer culture presents sensory stimulus in every corner of the urban space, to all classes. People from all classes could choose to create more space in their lives for
kinaesthesia and pursue a dance career. It is because my interlocutors express that they would not Fig. 1.3: Cihangir’s social
commentary: Right after the Istanbul terror attacks, Cihangir made a caricature criticising Turkey’s gradual descent into terror and chaos. It reads “Recently in Istanbul… Great, today there is only one guy at the club! Well, at least it can’t get any worse than this (!) ”
be satisfied if they had pursued the jobs the German education system allowed them to have that there is a link between class and kinaesthesia.
Senses Across Cultures
In her article, van Ede discusses the different modes of sensory learning throughout different cultures in the context of flamenco (2010). She gives an example of the misunderstandings between different cultures when trying to learn flamenco. In this section, I would like to make a discussion of the sensory effect the entrance of belly dance made to the “Western” world, and its links to my interlocutors’ kinaesthetic experiences.
The belly dance itself has been viewed in a suspicious light from the perspective of ocularcentricism in its introduction to the “Western” world. Belly dance has been “trespassing into the sensory world of the Other” to the “Western” world, when it was first displayed in the capitalistic markets of Paris and Chicago (Potuoğlu-Cook, 2008:73). Combined with scandalous marketing, belly dance became the most attention-capturing event of these fairs. The body movements have been characterised as to have been moving in a way to violate the norms of Victorian construction of femininity (Jarmakani, 2006:148), therefore was a kinaesthetically based shock on the behalf of the “Western” social group. This could be seen as an early form of the current utilisation of the senses by the capitalist market to create consumers (van Ede, 2009:63). Jarmakani mentions that the belly dancers have been constructed as bodies of difference (2006:148). She uses the concept of the “grotesque body” concept of Mikhail Bakhtin, to imagine the bodies as fluid and far away from fixed forms (2006:153).
These perceptions of the “Western” intellectual and economic traditions are very interesting, but are far from being adequate to describe experiences of my interlocutors. The enjoyment of the kinaesthesia of belly dance in social settings but its tabooization as a profession has created many problems. This is due to the Occidentalism appointed as a state ideology in the early years of the Turkish Republic (Ahıska, 2010). Even the naming of belly dance indicates ocularcentricism because the dance is named according to the body part which captured the observer’s attention the most, rather than the dancer him/herself naming the dance from his/her own kinaesthetic experience. In conclusion, belly dance has been imagined as a visually striking dance and named simply after the body part which seemed to be moving the most, whereas it is a highly kinaesthetic dance and could have been named associated to this. The naming also reflects the priority of sight in naming the dance form.
Suzan has mentioned that there is a gap between the acts of looking at the dancer and how the dancer herself feels. She explained that there might not be a direct link between how she feels and how she looks like while dancing. This is a perfect example in showing that the sense of sight by itself is not adequate to grasp and describe the whole experience of dancing.
1.2 Kinaesthesia and Taste
This section is not completely separate from the former section inherently, but I would like to discuss here the other sensory experiences and conceptualisations of my interlocutors, other than kinaesthesia. Interestingly, the sense of taste and connotations of it are prominently used by my interlocutors either to describe the quality of the dance, or as a strategy of performance.
“That girl has OK technique, but her hips lack honey.” Zadiel says, making the gesture of spreading honey with his hand, on an imaginary slice of bread I suppose. “You know, she doesn’t have the honey!”
Zadiel made this statement when discussing the dance quality of a colleague of his, also a famous belly dancer. So, how does the notion of honey enter the discussion of the quality of a dance? For this to happen, there must already be a metaphorical honey in the mind of Zadiel. When he says honey, he actually means the properties of honey, such as being sweet, a treat, having a thick density. He applies this metaphorical meaning to the quality of the dance. Honey becomes the signifier (Barthes, 1983) of qualities such as attractiveness, desirability, By saying the
colleague’s hips lack honey, he means that they lack the metaphorical aspects he associates with honey. In this process, he has already enough sensory experience with honey, in order to
conceptualize it in his mind to signify certain qualities. After this process, he must get the same sense of qualities when he sees a movement as he associates the with honey. Therefore the experience of the taste of honey and a movement which he sees is done attractively, which is a treat like honey, builds this bridge between the sense of taste and the sense of kinaesthesia. The fact that kinaesthetic experience is also involved in the experience of taste, such as the texture of honey also contributes to the associations of the same senses.
“Lale Lokum, lokum gibi kadın!”1
-Cihangir, interview
My interlocutor Cihangir performs belly dance in drag. The name of his character is Lale Lokum, which literally means Tulip Turkish Delight. In a similar vein of Zadiel’s, the associations of belly dancers with a sweet treat is the case here, as calling belly dancers “Turkish delights” is a common way to refer to them in popular culture.
Cihangir says he created the character of Lale Lokum in the ‘70s, therefore he could be the creator of this naming. The Turkish name for “Turkish delight” is Lokum, which is short for Rahat ul Hulkum, which interestingly means “easily going down one’s throat”, therefore describing the kinaesthetic experience of eating as a name for the dessert. Today, the shortened form of Lokum is used, since the Ottoman Turkish Rahat ul Hulkum is a form considered grammatically incorrect in modern Turkish. Lokum does not directly signify the kinaesthetic experience of eating anymore, but it still does carry the connotations of being a luxurious, adored, and most importantly local treat. The associations of belly dancing and Turkish delights have the additional cultural context of both being local, and the combination of two are frequently observable in self-orientalizing images. Interestingly, both honey and Turkish delight are food which also have been declared to have a kinaesthetically pleasing experience when eating them. The fact that the way of dancing also recreates the same sensation is interesting.
Cihangir may or may not have been the creator of naming belly dancers as Turkish delight, but there is a historical tradition of associating food with female bodies. There are dishes in the classical Ottoman cuisine such as dilber dudağı (beauty’s lips), kadınbudu köfte (woman’s thigh meatballs), hanım göbeği (lady’s belly). Associating belly dancing movements to the texture of butter is also a popular way of describing kinaesthesia in Turkey (Potuoğlu-Cook, 2008:8).
Fig. 1.4, The dessert Hanım göbeği (Lady’s belly) Fig. 1.5, Dilber dudağı (Beauty’s lips)
This naming has rather sexist undertones, objectifying body parts of women and giving these names to food to be consumed. Carol J. Adams discusses in “Sexual Politics of Meat: A Feminist-Vegetarian Critical Theory” that the objectification of women are highly linked to the
“Lale Lokum, a woman like a Turkish delight!” 1
carnivorous orientation in cuisine (2010). In my case, it is the associations of traditional sweets with body parts which is the case.
The traditional Ottoman sweets may be sexist, but in the context of my field, the emphasis is rather on the kinaesthetic experience of eating rather than objectified body parts. Combined with the parody of Lale Lokum and the flirtatious stage personality of Zadiel, the association between taste and kinaesthesia is really for the experience and entertainment, rather than sexism. The parody of Lale Lokum subverts the expected correlation of the biological sex and gender identity (Butler, 1990) This will be further discussed in Chapter 3. The performances of Cihangir and Zadiel are challenging fixed, heteronormative ideas which become the ground for legitimizing sexism. Therefore Cihangir and Zadiel are combatting sexism in their works rather than perpetuating it themselves.
The application of kinaesthetic experiences with taste to dancing could be described as the Turkish taste in motion. I am inspired by Barbara Browning’s book title, “Samba: Resistance in Motion in this designation (1995).
1.3 Catharsis
After the interval of Orientesque Berlin, a belly dance themed cabaret show which took place near the old, abandonedTempelhofer Airport in a cultural center, qanun music filled up the space. Qanun, a stringed instrument which makes a sound similar to the vibration of water, filled up the air. The soothing notes spread a calming feeling amongst the audience, while the anticipated entrance of the next dancer tensed up the air slightly. Suddenly, Cihangir entered the stage, in a flowing costume, of which the colour was light blue as the sky. He closed his eyes, as if soaking up the calm melodies flowing from the qanun, and took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes again, he had already began to move, softly turning around and fluttering the two fans in his hand. The movements of the white-blue fabrics were so smooth, the notes of the qanun was so soft, that I felt happy for no reason, feeling a bit awed from the unison of such otherworldly colours and sounds.
“You see, I was very shy as a boy. I did not have many friends, I was afraid to talk to anyone. But when I danced, I danced very well. You see, dancing has been a therapy for me against all the darkness and fears in my life. Dance has always been kind of a therapy for me.”
-Cihangir, Interview Catharsis is a term which has been originally created by Aristotle, meaning purging of extremely negative emotions, or in other words, pathos. Interestingly, the term of Catharsis has been applied to “high arts” such as literary novels and classical theatre plays, but its usage to on “minor arts” or “popular culture” has not been frequent. Popular arts have been criticised by Adorno and Horkheimer as lacking any artistic authenticity, accusing popular culture to dim the
revolutionary potential of the masses (1944). Therefore, belly dance as a stigmatized form of popular culture has never been discussed within the concept of catharsis. This can also be considered in line with the ocularcentricism and Orientalism discussed in the first section of this chapter. Ancient Greek culture has always been associated with European high culture, so the application of this term to a “non-Western”, popular culture form such as belly dance was not a usual mix.
Catharsis is the most appropriate term when describing the relief, happiness and therapeutic qualities my interlocutors associate with belly dance, because it is a term which
emphasizes the role of art in producing these feelings. The cathartic qualities of belly dance is very prominent in Cihangir’s work. In his performance in Orientesque III in Berlin, we see him in light blue clothing, waving two fans in his hands, to music so soft and ambient, and reflecting a certain sensibility, a certain sadness in his dance. As I was watching him, I did feel a certain sense of yearning for freedom, for emotional release.
This information I have also confirmed within interviews, when Cihangir stated that he was a very shy and socially awkward kid, and he always felt more relaxed when he danced, that dance was a way of “letting go, releasing” for him, describing/verbalising a phenomenon similar/suitable to the conceptualisation of catharsis.
Nilay expressed her state of euphoria after dance practices when we had rehearsed together the choreography of her upcoming show at Nostalgie Festsaal, a wedding hall in the suburbs. She said, “It feels quite good doesn’t it, the aftermath of exercise. If I’m in a bad mood, I start the day with my dance practices, it is quite like a therapy for me” she has expressed. Dancing
together for two hours, mirroring each others movements also created a strong feeling of bond, but all four of my interlocutors described the feeling of therapy as an individualistic experience rather than a group dance.
I would like to talk about the geometry of a dance posture reflecting Catharsis. Suzan’s main pose throughout multiple stage performances it a very straight body, arms open
symmetrically to each other and slightly upwards to the sky. Her arms are so open to each other, it almost looks like a contemporary dance move rather than a belly dance move. I would like to invite you to get up from your seat at this moment and try out this pose yourself, experimenting with creating the form of relief. Firstly, stretch your arms to the front. This will feel like you are yearning to connect with someone who might be standing in front of you, to hug someone perhaps. Now, open your arms to the sides, you will suddenly feel relief as you open your arms, your chest will be filled with air, making you feel more free and less contained in comparison to when your arms were dangling to your side. Now, get these arms a little up, not too much. Now, in addition to the feeling of yearning and freedom, you get the feeling of almost reaching out for something sacred,
something heavenly.
It is this form and the feeling associated with it which characterises Suzan’s bonding with belly dancing. She is enacting this move constantly in her choreographies, this is a basic position for her. She has also confirmed this throughout the informal interviews I have had with her. This can be observable in her body map. She has given this map the title “Sometimes its the need from…” and rays reaching out from all directions, originating from her heart. The shape of the lines
are exactly reflecting the feeling of opening oneself and stretching out, with creates a sense of relief and
transcendence.
Cihangir expressed to me that it is not only dance, but also drawing which he has embraced its therapeutic qualities since his childhood. He associates both dance and drawing caricatures with the sense of relief, stating that he was engaged in these two activities as young as he can
remember. It gets even more interesting when he says that he is trying to communicate the message in his shows and caricatures that LGBTTQ and Turkish people have rights. He criticizes in his artworks the social and political structures which press the LGBTTQ and ethnic minorities in German society. Since three decades, he is performing in drag, both dancing and doing sketches about these two issues he faced as a gay Turkish man in Berlin. Therefore it is possible to say that Cihangir has unleashed the revolutionary potential in creating art, that he has transcended from the process of catharsis to the next step of trying to change the world through art. In this way, Cihangir has many hands. Many tongues. Many eyes. Many feelings. Many noses.
In Conclusion, sensory experience and the
therapeutic feelings associated with it are key factors in my interlocutor’s decision to choose dance careers. The cathartic process is the reason why my interlocutors have chosen to give more time and space in their lives to belly dancing. A special characteristic which is specific to the sensory experience of my interlocutors is the imagination of dance in relation to taste. Despite the fact that taste and touch have been classified as the most “inferior” senses and associated with
dispossessed classes in society such as the working class and women’s cultures, the centrality of intellectualism in my interlocutor’s work and personal lives depict that this classification of the senses do not represent the truth in this case.
CHAPTER 2: The FIRST 15 METERS Cultures, Styles, Capitalisations
In this chapter, the issue of cultural identity will be discussed by placing belly dance as the central subject. When I had first contacted my interlocutors to say that I was conducting a research on Turkish belly dance in Berlin, they all made the statement that they were not doing Turkish, but Arabic belly dance. This answer made the issue of cultural identity even more complicated than I had initially thought; I was questioning how they would place themselves within the dual
designation of Turkish-German, but now they had just thrown another concept at me! I soon
realized that Arabic belly dance indicated an institutionalized (Bourdieu, 1978) capital rather than a reference to an ethnic background.
I will unfold in this chapter how the conceptualizations of these ethnicities are associated with dance styles in the Berlin belly dance scene; and how this results in different interactions between the social, cultural and economic capital amongst my interlocutors (Bourdieu, 1978). They mention “Turkish/Arabic style belly dance” with certain associations in mind. They mention
“German society” with another set of associations in mind. The two sets of notions are also tied together with certain web of relations.
In section two, I am discussing the global system of creating dances, teaching dances, composing music, creating costumes. I am calling this web of capitalistic relations, “Global Belly Dance Market. I am discussing the way my interlocutors navigate through this market.
In the third section, I am focusing on how the Turkish identity in Berlin is discussed in different contexts such as music and food and talk about my own case of belly dance. My interlocutors have a very interesting way of formulating where they stand within the debate of Turkish versus German.
2.1 Turkish Belly Dance, Arabic Belly Dance- An Ethnic or an Institutional Distinction?
Belly dance is separated within the rather rivalry-indicating terms of “Turkish versus Arabic style” among my interlocutors. I would like to discuss the complex web of relations behind and between these concepts. The terms Turkish and Arabic refer to certain institutions and labels in the market rather than a certain ethnicity. When it comes to defining belly dance culture, the strict separatism between Turkishness and Arabness does not reflect the reality, because there are too many business collaborations in music and dance sectors and a very high cultural permeability between these two worlds. There is a historical dimension to this as well as the contemporary socio-cultural context, such as covering songs from each other, and having music bands and dance groups composed both of mutual Turkish-Arabic members, such as Mezdeke. It could be said that the name merely refers to the different countries, in which the dance is enjoyed in. The Arabic versus Turkish distinction is one of 20th century nationalism, and not one of essential separatism between the cultures.
Musical kinship between post-Ottoman countries
On a rainy Berlin summer day, Zadiel took me grocery shopping in his neighbourhood Mitte, in the city center. I asked him which style he preferred to perform in, Turkish or Arabic. “I do both,” he said, looking at the vegetable section. “I do a fusion of Bülent Ersoy’s ‘Yananı Görür Allah”, do you know the song?” Bülent Ersoy was our national diva, of course I knew her, but I was not sure about the song, so I asked him to murmur the song. “(singing) Yananı görür Allah, e görür inşallah, çaresi olur, maazallah…” he sang briefly. (The lyrics: “Allah sees the one who is burning, I hope Allah sees them, and be a cure to him/her, God forbid…”) I realized that this song was a Turkish cover of the pop belly dance group
Mezdeke’s “Alabina Yallah”. Mezdeke is a group composed of Lebanese musicians and Turkish belly dancers, who were frequently aired on Turkish TV in the ‘90s and were considered a cult status among the Turkish population.
It is striking for me that in this example, the Turkish and Arabic actors have been so intertwined that it depicts the superficiality of the distinction of Turkish versus Arabic when it comes to belly dance, since both sides create this culture together, not as separate entities. Mezdeke is a group with musicians and belly dancers, performing “modern Arabic dance pop”. The dancers of the group are Turkish and the group is based in Lebanon. The group has a cult status in Turkey as their
videoclips were frequently circulated in the Turkish TV channels throughout 1990s. The song which Zadiel mentions is a Turkish cover of the Mezdeke song “Alabina Yallah”. Interestingly, the song is covered by Turkey’s Classical Ottoman music diva, Bülent Ersoy. According to Stokes, the songs of Turkey and the Arabic countries derive out of Classical Ottoman music, therefore are historically related (1992). So, the genre in which Mezdeke’s song is covered in is actually a musical relative of the contemporary Arabic pop dance genre, the Ottoman classical music.
The term “musical kinship” has been previously used in a few articles, even though the use of the term is not frequent. Elliot uses the term within the context of the historical links between the musical forms of Spanish colonizers in the Americas with the early 20th century North America. I am using the term in the context of the similarities of music within the context of post-Ottoman countries.
Buchanan traces the dissemination of a single song in the 20th century, throughout the post-Ottoman geographies. The Istanbul folk song “Üsküdara Gider İken” has been covered throughout the Balkans, Greece, the Levant, North Africa; and across North America and Australia, where there is a large diaspora from these countries (2007:4).
In order to further illustrate my point, I would like to give a quote from Caroline Diessel:
“Why is this genre called Oriental hiphop and not Turkish hip hop? As the discussion that follows will show, the musicians place a premium on the way the music is sampled sounds in the context of the larger musical system of the Middle East. The music of Turkey relies on the musical modes and rhythms that were cultivated during the Ottoman Empire and it shares a reciprocal influence with present-day Arab and Persian neighbours to the south and east of the Black Sea.” (2001:171)
While the term “Oriental” is controversial and is open up to debate, I would like to point to the fact that in the quote, the musical kinship between the countries which were parts of the same Ottoman Empire has been emphasized. The quote has a Eurocentric approach, in the sense that describing this musical kinship as existing only with other Islamic groups in the region, but ignoring the centuries of cultural kinship with Christian, Jewish, Shamanic, Paganic and other all sorts of religious groups in the region as well, obscures the complex reality of the situation. An example for the presence of belly dance in the Christian world are; tsiftetelli in Greece, cocek in Serbia and kyucheck in Bulgaria (Silverman 2003:127). My point here is not to discuss the rather narrow outlook in the designation of only reducing the musical kinship to the countries who are perceived to be Muslim, rather than the economic, cultural and social proximity of all religions in the Ottoman Empire. The point of the historical and musical kinship of post-Ottoman countries and the
emergence of this in the contemporary hip hop of Turkish-Germans is an interesting parallel with the similar mutual relationships when it comes to belly dance culture.
I argue that the cultural links between post-Ottoman countries are so strong that the clear cut nationalistic categories such as the Turkish-Arabic divide does not paint a picture of the actual truth.The era of nation-states has attempted to cut the ties of musical kinship of these countries. The division of Egyptian versus Turkish styles are a product of national culture policies.
Another difference between the nomenclature of my interlocutors and the global belly dance market is that, the market speaks strictly in nationalistic terms, referring to the differences between “Egyptian” and “Turkish” styles, whereas Turkish people refer to the Egyptian style as “Arabic”, pointing to a pre-nationalistic conceptualisation of ethnicity. This is an interesting difference because it shows that the conceptualizations have mainly got to do with industrial and modern market relations rather than Turkish and Egyptian dance cultures themselves.The fluidity of national borders from ex-Ottoman countries are a challenge to the “Turkish versus Egyptian” nationalistic conceptualization.
Before conducting this research, I had hypothesized that one of the reasons why my interlocutors have chosen this dance could have been to go back to their roots, as a grassroot movement to embrace their ethnic background. The Turkish-Arabic dichotomy has shown me otherwise, that there is a much complicated issue with this dance which does not specifically refer to an ethnic background, that the debate is not about culture itself, but institutionalisation and capital.
Notion of Capital Attached to Arabic Belly Dance
In the first chart, the associations made by my interlocutors regarding Turkish versus Arabic belly dance is listed. The same associations and how they are linked to embodied and
Turkish Belly Dance Arabic Belly Dance
prostitution artistic
acrobatic strong technique
entertaining professionalism
unclear authenticity
underdeveloped richness, variety of styles
emotionality
Embodied Capital Institutionalized Capital
experience artistic
easier learning strength of technique
familiarity professionalism
authenticity authenticity
richness, variety of styles
emotionality emotionality
institutionalized capital can be viewed in the second table. It is possible to see that, nearly all of the qualities my interlocutors associate with Arabic belly dancing are also qualities associated with institutionalized capital, such as strong technique, professionalism and a rich variety of styles. The properties associated with Turkish belly dance are neither associated with embodied nor
institutionalized capital, except for “entertaining”. Two of the properties, “unclear” and
“underdeveloped” could signal to the presence of an embodied capital, since the reason why the movements are unclear is because Turkish belly dance is largely a social, non-standardized dance. But, my interlocutors have chosen to characterize the lack of standardization as a negativity, rather than a value worth of a capital. Therefore I have not grouped them under “Embodied Capital”, taking into focus the mic formulations of my interlocutors.
I was helping Nilay with the rehearsal of a show in a wedding hall in the suburban area of Berlin Spandau. We had on our leggings and had tied coined belts to our waist, to make some noise. We were rehearsing on the empty space right in front of the stage, where Nilay would be dancing that night. “The arms we do as Turkish are wrong. We actually know the arms wrong. The Arabic arms are correct, they are supposed to be like this, like snakes.” Nilay said, showing me with her arms what she means. When she was describing the Turkish arms, she made unclear shapes in the air with her arms, with a lack of energy. When she was describing the Arabic snake arms, she put a lot of energy in her arms to make very precise, controlled movements, her arms full of tension and making significantly clear lines in the air, resembling the writhing of a snake. Therefore the Turkish style implied a lack of professionalism, since the movement code was unclear and unfixed, resulting in a less energetic, less powerful movement.
When Suzan points to the fact that Arabic style is “emotional” but Turkish style lacks this, she inadvertently signifies to a very political formulation of what kind of emotions should music communicate to the nation, of the early Turkish Republic period. In the early years of the Turkish Republic, the thick, ağdalı (waxy) form of “Oriental” music has been deemed lethargic and de-energizing to the nation, which the founding father Mustafa Kemal Atatürk did not see appropriate for a new born nation. The new Turkish nation should have listened to polyphonic “Western” music, which would be appropriate to a newly industrializing, modernising nation (Stokes, 2008). This discussion has its roots in Plato’s ancient debate of the suitability of certain musical genres for the society and the infavourability of the others. In the Turkish form, such self-indulgent emotions, sensory forms were not accepted. This, which Arabs call tarab, a form of trance, were seen as unindustrial and uncivilised. Interestingly the issue of musical cultures were debated in the same manner by the Arabic countries in the Congress of Arabic Music themselves, blaming the culture of listening to the vocalist Umm Kulthum from the radio for hours on as a reason why the Arab
Coalition always lost its wars against Israel. This Eurocentrism and Occidentalism shaped Turkish belly dance. Therefore, Zadiel can make the statement that the Germans do not find the Turkish dance authentic enough, but rather spectacle-like.
Cihangir is the only interlocutor who did not place his dancing within this embodied (Turkish) versus institutionalised (Arabic) capital dichotomy (Bourdieu 1978). Like the other interlocutors, he got engaged in belly dance at a young age, as a form of social dancing. He learned to identify the belly dance movements as a way of self-expression. Contrary to the other interlocutors, he did not go through any sort of schooling or institutionalization, and as a result did not internalize the institutional prejudice that Arabic style equals professionalism, and general acceptability. Interestingly, he is also the only one amongst my interlocutors who grew up in Turkey until he was 10 years old.
“I can not accept the fact that most of the dancers in the belly dance scene can not accept that men do belly dance.” Cihangir said in a dark mood, with a subtle diva-meets-Count Dracula attitude. We were chatting in his ’80’s punk style decorated living room, sipping away the Turkish coffee he had made. “They try to turn in into ballet, as if it is a high art form and so classy.” he complained. He paused. “It is NOT a classy art form.” he said. “It is meant to be low-brow, crass, and erotic. It IS meant to be entertaining. It makes me think if you wanna turn it into a princess thing, then it is only to hide your true face, then your true face must be ugly. If not, why do you bother hiding it?”
-from Interview Cihangir is subverting the meanings reflected on to the institutionalized capital on the belly dance by performing low-brow attitudes. In his show where he is bringing Lale Lokum to life, he dances in a devil-may-care attitude, chewing gum in an exaggerated way, acting clumsily, making goofy facial expressions. At the same time while he is portraying such a slap-stick character, he is
executing the dance movements beautifully in a very strong technique. Combined with parody, his flawless dancing stands out even more, giving across the message that even if he delivers the dance in a comedic way, he is still a great dancer. This performance is almost like a parody of the dynamics of institutionalization and the gentrification of the dance.
He reclaims the essence of the pavyon and brings it into the Berlin belly dance scene. He 2 is subverting the values attached to the institutional belly dance and re-embracing the stigmatized aspects of Turkish belly dance. He researches the history of male belly dancing in the Ottoman Empire, and recreates the costumes and the dances he imagines in his stage shows. In this way, he is celebrating the Turkish style belly dance for being non-institutionalized.
The Social Stigma
“You know, the Turkish style is very very pavyon. All of them are orospu!” -Zadiel, Interview
One of the reasons why my interlocutors prefer the term “Arabic” is because of the stigma around the profession of belly dancing in Turkey. My interlocutors associate Turkish belly dance with “prostitution, low-class venues, showing skin, entertaining, acrobatic”, meanwhile associating Arab style with “not showing skin, found to be authentic by Germans, introverted, artistic.” In my interviews, I have frequently come across accounts which recreate the “femme fatal” image of belly dancers in Turkey, that they do the job for money, they are prostitutes (the words used by my interlocutors are fahişe, orospu, Turkish slang words meaning sex worker). I argue that they have preferred to embrace the term Arabic belly dance, to disassociate themselves from the stigma especially in Turkish circles.
In Turkey, the stigma around the institution of belly dancing is linked to the ownership of nightclubs by the mafia, therefore associations with the organised crime of drugs, prostitution and illegal transit. The Turkish style has been overshadowed by the institutional corruption it has been embedded in. This institutional corruption does not exist in Germany, according to the statements of my interlocutors, but this is not enough to take away the negative connotations of the dansöz . 3
Zadiel and Nilay expressed that the Turkish circles in Berlin saw the dance as a link to prostitution, and they also blamed the dancers in Turkey as being fahişe- a Turkish slang word meaning sex worker. Nilay thinks the reason why girls chose to become belly dancers in Turkey, is because they need the money. This is a very interesting form of opinion, and it could be beneficial for a research to be conducted on the effects of Turkish movies on the Turkish diaspora, since for decades, belly dancers have been represented as “kötü kadın”, literally “bad woman”, as an archetypical femme fatale in Turkish movies. En early example in the Turkish novels is the trope of the belly dancer as a home-wrecking seductress in Fatma Aliye’s novel (Potuoğlu-Cook, 2008: 122)
Accusations of prostitution and the persisting social stigma on the dance could be linked to the lack of institutionalization and standardization. I will talk more about this in the next section. Despite the fact that in Turkey there is a state-sponsored, official folklore group performing çiftetelli, a dance composed of belly dance movements, the men and women who choose belly dancing as a career are almost never from this background (Potuoğlu-Cook, 2008:221). The choreographies of belly dancers in Turkey almost never stem from an institution or a school, the context in which one learns how to dance is rather different. It is completely dependent on the individual’s talents, to filter movements from social occasions such as weddings, circumcision rituals, spring celebrations, and to create choreographies from it. The choreographies and stage personas are highly
influenced by the demands of the patron who owns the venue they perform in. These patrons of 4
these venues constantly pressure dancers into performing attitudes which will come across as sexual and inviting, rather than giving them artistic freedom in choosing their own personal
Low class tavern in Turkish. 2
Turkish word for belly dancer, derived from the French word danseuse 3
Boss 4
narratives (Potuoğlu-Cook 2008:223). The dance embodies this exploitative relationship and it is because of this reason the dance is associated with prostitution amongst the wider Turkish public, my interlocutors included.
This lack of institutionalization also makes it harder to organize, leaving the dancers socio-economically vulnerable. Therefore, the lack of accumulation of any institutionalized capital has resulted in the Turkish belly dance scene being submitted under the mafia and organized crime. These are the reasons why my interlocutors except Cihangir prefer to associate themselves with Arabic rather than Turkish belly dance. The prior indicates a certain currency and acceptability in the market as well as a sense of security. There is more room for the experience of self-indulgence and emotional excess in the Arabic style. The Turkish style however, does not have a sense of security and acceptability in the market, does not offer a sense of security, and is socially stigmatized because of this reason. These are the reasons behind the preference to call one’s dance Arabic style belly dance rather than Turkish.
2.2 Global Belly Dance Market
“In order to obtain representation through their exoticness, the exotics offer their status up for negotiation as passionate objects. Passion is the valid currency in the negotiation of identity that the exotics make with other exotics and the ones who exoticize.”
Savigliano, (1995:263)
The belly dance relations in Berlin are mostly integrated into the global belly dance market. First, I would like to define what I mean by the global belly dance market. The global belly dance market is the transnational web of relations composed of standard belly dance vocabulary, with studios, dancers, dance teachers, musicians, costume designers and managers constituting a capitalistic business of belly dance. Marcus’ concept of multi sited ethnographies would be appropriate in conceptualizing the market (1995). For example, in addition to Cifuentes Dance Studio, Suzan received education in Argentina, at Amir Thaleb’s Arabic Dances School. She also joined a festival in Luxor, Egypt. Zadiel also travels around Europe, and to Canada and America frequently to give workshops and performances all around the world. in Argentina and to a brief training in Egypt. Therefore she also has quite a high cultural capital, but this does not necessarily end up in an economic advantage. She also mentions the low image associated with belly dance in Berlin’s arts and culture scene. Suzan has also attended a school in Argentina, Amir Thaleb’s School for Arabic Dances. Therefore my interlocutors operate within a larger system than Berlin. New genres
constantly enter this market and form fusions with already existing genres.
The same could be said for the belly dance CD industry. The belly dance compilation CDs contain songs with many different ethnic sounds. Nilay mostly works with CDs she buys every summer in Turkey. In these CDs, there are songs varying from Turkish folklore genre çiftetelli, Turkish Romani songs with syncopated beats, flamenco inspired tunes, Indian and Bollywood inspired rhythms. The CDs highly reflect the current belly dance market, with may fusions and genres getting intertwined.
Cifuentes Dance School, the studio which Zadiel, Suzan and Nilay received their education in, is an institution very active in the negotiations within the global belly dance market. They attract students from all over the world. The studio is run by Beata and Horacio Cifuentes, a German-Colombian couple.
In this institution, my interlocutors have been educated in ballet, Egyptian style belly dance, and drum solo belly dance. By attending to this studio, they have acquired the institutionalized capital discussed in the previous section and have learned the movement language required to operate in a globalized dance market. They have added on top of their embodied capital which they have acquired through socialization rituals and practices in their childhood.
How did the global belly dance market came to be about? Why is it global and why is it a market? The current global belly dance market mainly operates and finds customers world wide; it has turned into a complex web of different fusions, styles and negotiations between emerging local styles and global capital. It is linked to the process Savigilano describes as “the confrontations of exotic objects” (1995: 263). For example, the Turkish electro-belly dance band Baba Zula always prefers and tours with Japanese belly dancers, who have their own style distinct from both Turkish and Egyptian belly dance. In Spain, there are many fusions of Oriental-Flamenco, from Catalunya to Andalusia.
The confrontation of the two exotic “objects” were also observable in Berlin, at Oriental Fantasy Summer Festival which took place from 30st of June to the 3rd of July, organized by the Cifuentes couple. Two of the workshops available in Orient Summer Fantasy were “tango-oriental” and “Tahiti-belly dance fusion”. These are examples of “double exoticisms” (Savigliano 1995:263). Dance forms which once were local or folkloric forms can only find a place for themselves in the global market under the label of exotic.
“When people think of belly dance, they say ‘Oh, it’s just the girl who dances at a
restaurant.’” Suzan said. “They don’t think of it like ballet, or modern dance. Yes, ‘Zeitgenössischer Tanz’ (Contemporary Dance), that would have been something in their eyes, something cool.” Suzan said once over herbal tea, in one of our countless meetings in the channel cafe
Freischwimmer. This is Suzan’s perception of the community of Berlin and the hierarchy of their world of values. In this way, it does reflect the “High Arts versus Popular Arts” dichotomy, where “Western” academic arts such as ballet, classical music are seen as “higher value” than belly dance such as “dancing at a restaurant.” Martin Greve discusses that Turkish music has an
obscured existence; it is practically non-existent in the German culture officially, and Turkish music is perceived to be an “authenticity, a folklore rather than high culture.” (2006:2) Turkish music not getting enough recognition and can only exist when exoticized.
There are two components in the belly dance ecole of the Turkish people in Berlin. They experience belly dancing at a very young age in their social communities. As they grow up and go to schools which result in them having lower-middle class, low income jobs, they turn towards belly dancing, and get an education at Cifuentes Tanzstudio, where they are taught movements from ballet to classical Egyptian style to American Tribal Style. Therefore, the understanding of belly dance goes through a transformation, obtains a standardised, formal role, whereas the first, sensory meeting and “liking” the dance happens in infancy, at a cultural, diasporic, social environment. Institutes such as Cifuentes do not merely teach different genres, but transmits a knowledge of a systematic way of being a performer. This environment clearly does not provide enough dance skills for professional performance, therefore the interlocutors have chosen a private school, an institute for the development of their careers.
In such a context, it is not surprising that my interlocutors can not operate solely with the embodied capital they have obtained in their socio-cultural circles in their early years. The market operates highly in favour of the institutionalised form of capital, in which the cultural “product” is easily packaged and sold, therefore more prone to become a symbolic capital. Institutionalised capital is easier to transform into symbolic capital, therefore is more favourable. In the context of my interlocutors, they had to operate within the rules of the market.
A clear example where this dynamic was clearly observable was the Berlin Oriental Fantasy Summer Festival, which I had a chance to attend during my fieldwork. Beata and Horacio have brought two main teachers for this event: Colorado-born American belly dancer Sadie and Turkey’s star belly dancer Didem, who is only thirty years old and currently dominating the Turkish stages, despite her young age. The students were very excited to take her lesson because of her fame.
Sadie was a very organized teacher, taking care of issues such as the class outline, making students shift places so everybody could take a turn to see her. She gave useful tips in order to make the learning process easier and more understandable. On top of that, she gave cultural information about the dances she was teaching, mentioning the history of French colonialism in Polynesia when she was teaching a Tahitian- belly dance drum fusion.
Didem on the other hand, was not organized at all. Despite the fact that she had an
assistant, they kept having problems with the music. She was not interested in making the learning process easier for her students, instead showing off her wildest movements to the class, and teasing them when they tried to catch up with her and failed. When a student asked her the
particular hair tossing movement she did when she was doing a turn, Didem said she could not help her; “I can not decide for you how you will pose after you turn.” she said, chewing bubble gum noisily. “You can pose like this,” she turned and stroke a pose. “Or like this,” -another pose. “I don’t know!” she exclaimed at the expense of the frustrated student. Didem’s translator, Makbule, a Turkish-German girl said to her “Didem honey, the Germans want you to teach them the technique, you know, they prefer it like this.”
I talked with the students after the class to get their opinions, and their enthusiasm seemed to be crushed by Didem’s refusal to play the game by its rules, the game of instutionalized capital and belly dance market. She did not teach in a way to appeal to her students, in other words, the customer satisfaction was missing in her approach.
2.3 Turkish Identity in Germany
There have been attempts to define the Turkish identity in Germany by analyzing their cultural practices. Although there are many articles discussing the musical practices of the Turkish diaspora in Berlin, especially hip hop, there has not been a research conducted before about the belly dance practices (Greve, 2006:388). I attempt to address this issue with my data results.
First, I would like to explain what I mean by the term “Turkish-Berliner”. The three waves of Turkish migration to Germany have been explained in detail in the book “Almanya’ya Emek Göçü (Labour Migration to Germany)” (Fındıkçıoğlu, November 2012:13). I would briefly like to
summarise the history of the migration from this book. When the first wave of Turkish workers started to migrate into Germany during the 1960s, they were named “Gastarbeiter (Guest worker)”, because it was assumed that they would be temporary. During this period, there was no social project to integrate the workers into the society. The first wave migrants were certainly not
considered as “Turkish-Germans”. The transformation from “Gastarbeiter” to “Turkish-German” is a process which has lasted for decades, with fiery political, economic and cultural debates.
The first wave migrated to Germany during the 1960s, after the “Workforce Transfer Deal” was signed with Germany, until 1983, where the Rückkehrhilfegesetz (Law to Support Migrant’s Return)” was put into operationalisation by the German government. When this law began operating, there was still 1 million Turkish citizens on the wait list to migrate to Germany as a “Gastarbeiter” (Fındıkçıoğlu, 2012:17).
The second wave of the migrants are the “political refugees” who became asylum seekers after the 1980 neoliberal coup in Turkey. This group is composed of artists, journalists, activists, film makers, musicians; the intelligentsia who had left-wing inclinations. This group of migrants helped the Gastarbeiters to voice their emotional turmoils, for example the Anatolian rock musician Cem Karaca, in his song “Es Kamen Menschen An (Human Beings Arrived Instead)” sings:
Es wurden Arbeiter gerufen The call was made for workers Doch es kamen Menschen an But human beings arrived instead Man brauchte unsere Arbeitskraft Our labour power was needed
Die kraft die was am Fliessband schafft The power which creates something at the assembly line Wir Menschen waren nicht interessant Us human beings were not interesting
Darum blieben wir euch unbekannt Because of this we remain unknown to you5
Finally, the third wave is the contemporary need of German society for the qualified workers such as engineers in the technology sector, and the law is encouraging foreigners to settle in. The three waves have been composed of significantly different backgrounds and it is the reason why the Turkish community in Germany is so diverse.
The interesting thing about the belly dance professionals of Berlin is that they do not associate their activity with their Turkish ethnic heritage. Their motivations are to enjoy the
My translation 5
kinaesthetic experience and to express their gender identity. There is no evident desire to express their Turkish heritage.
“I have no desire to be the representative of Turkish culture.” says Zadiel, among the purple cushions in his living room. “To be honest… I couldn’t care less. I just like- you know, some people like using their arms and legs, to dance hip hop- I just like dancing with my hips!”
It is not a motive of Zadiel's to group his dance under the label of Turkishness, as I have also discussed in the first section. For Zadiel, he takes pleasure in the kinaesthetic experience of belly dance and is happy to express his
gender identity, of which he sees himself as a guru of femininity, which I further explain in the next chapter. It is also visible to see in his body map in 2.1, where he describes his experiences of feeling excitement and passion in dance.
I had discussed the concept of the reification (Baumann,1999:58) of the ethnic identity through the concept of “in the blood” in my proposal, giving the examples of flamenco (Papapavlou, 2003:15) and tsiftetelli (Karayanni, 2006). My interlocutors were very far away from any ethnic reifications, on the contrary, they favour the institutionalized forms over the ones embodied in their ethnic group. They did not place enough value on the embodied expressions of Turkish ethnic group, therefore the reification of this embodied expression to the point of imagining the embodied capital as transferrable by blood is not really the case for them.
As a result, my interlocutors to make use of their cultural past without attaching too many emotions on it and having a certain distance to it. The situation of carrying traces from the Turkish culture, but not actually wanting to represent it, is an interesting balance
within the debates. My interlocutors are carrying the cultural practice of their past, it is their embodied capital, they do not necessarily identify with it as much as to call it their identity. For them is a socio-cultural reality, rather than something to be associated with feelings of pride.
I have been considering in which social group should I place my interlocutors in my
theoretical discussions. Should I place them in the group Turkish-German? Should I place them in the group Turkish? Should I place them in Germanised Turk? I decided to refer to their social standing among the likes of Aziza A (Diessel,1997) and Feridun Zaimoğlu (1995) , who posit themselves as encompassing both a Turkish background culture and German social culture. The different ideas of my interlocutors on the matter and their refusal to be categorised under the term Türk-Alman (Turkish-German) makes them closer to the thinking that the contemporary Turkish diaspora in Germany do not need to fit into any of these strict national categories.
