
Piše: Shireen
Mogli bismo ovako početi:
“Moderna vremena donijela su promjene u svim plesnim stilovima, pa tako i u svijetu orijentalnih plesova. Kako je i sam orijentalni ples tijekom vremena razvio puno svojih stilova, u kontaktu s drugim plesovima došlo je do spajanja dvaju ili više vrsta plesova u tzv. fuzije. Poneke fuzije imaju još uvijek dosta orijentalnog štiha, dok su se neke poprilično odmaknule od izvornosti orijentalnog plesa.
Kako je fuzija spoj dviju različitosti, nastaje plesni stil koji nudi bezgranične mogućnosti za kreativnost, kao i korištenje svih glazbenih podloga. Osnova i dalje ostaje orijentalna, a sve ostalo je nadogradnja koracima drugih plesova.
Neke od orijentalnih fuzija: latino orijental, afro orijental, flamenco orijental, bellynesian (orijentalni/polinezijski), suvremeni orijental i mnoge druge.”
Ali nećemo tako početi jer:
Mogla bih unedogled tako… o pravilima, rupama u tim istim pravilima, o vrstama, o podvrstama, o nevrstama, o zabludama da su to uopće vrste… ali za to postoje neke druge stranice, neki drugi pisci i neke snimke koje to zornije prikazuju. Ja bih se ipak osvrnula na druge stvari koje su pratile prvi festival orijentalnih fuzija i zaslužile biti spomenute. Sve. Kako one poticajne, tako i one koje su nas htjele zaobići i ne primijetiti – ne iz neke velike želje, već iz straha od novoga. Vjekovna problematika.
Krenuli smo stidljivo, puni pitanja i bojazni: “Možemo li mi to i jesmo li spremni za taj zalogaj?” Hoće li se itko prijaviti, hoće li nas itko podržati, hoćemo li skupiti dovoljno novca da pokrijemo troškove, hoće li u konačnici dvorana biti puna, hoće li nas UOPĆE ITKO primijetiti i znati da postojimo?
I tako se pila ta produžena kava u velikoj šalici, do vrha puna, dok su stotine upitnika stajale iznad glave. I rekoh si: “Ženo, ako padneš, padni sa stilom. Odustati nije glagol koji ti koristiš.”
I tada kreće čudo zvano fuzije.
Prijave, interesi, savjeti, pomoć, novi ljudi, nova iskustva, greške i pogoci… ludilo koje nas je nosilo do tog tjedna našeg velikog ispita. I mnoštvo produženih kava, do vrha punih i u velikoj šalici.
Kada su me pitali jesam li zadovoljna kako je festival prošao… Kako ne bih bila kada je ono što vidim upravo ono što smo željeli postići i dokazati da se može, i da nas još ima koji to možemo iznijeti: zajedništvo, suradnja i borba da se održi ljubav prema plesu onakvim kakav treba biti – bez kalkulacija, s puno ljubavi i želje za učenjem kako biti bolji čovjek i veći plesač.
To je poruka koju je plesna scena, ne samo orijentalna već i mnogo šira, već neko vrijeme počela ispuštati iz ruku, zaboravljajući na zajedništvo koje nas je nekada vezalo i podršku koja već dugo izostaje u onom obliku u kojem bi trebala biti dana…
Rekli su mi da je utopija to što radim. Da je nemoguće spojiti nespojivo.
U pravu su. Doista jesu. Najozbiljnije. Utopija je to što radim.
Ali to je moja utopija. I opstat će dok bude volje da plešemo i kreiramo te prekrasne orijentalne fuzije.
Priča o dobrim i lošim fuzijama pratila je dane nakon festivala, odjednom izbivši na površinu i otvorivši se kao Pandorina kutija. Da, one postoje. Slažem se. Ali isto tako, dobro i loše postoji i u svim ostalim plesnim pravcima. Ipak, lakše je pogled svrnuti u susjedno dvorište, naći mu tisuću mana i tako ne primijetiti svoje.
Jedino što sam tada rekla bilo je: da ne vrijedimo, da nismo nešto postigli, da nas publika ne voli i ne želi na sceni, bili bismo zaboravljeni na margini gdje smo i postojali. I ne bi se prašina digla. I ne bi rušili predrasude o nama. Znali smo to. Osjećali smo da se zapravo suprotstavljamo strahovima kako nema mjesta za sve. Ima. Mjesta ima za onoga tko ga zna i želi naći.
Ne bojmo se predrasuda, jer one su tu da budu srušene.
No, ostavimo tu priču za neki drugi put.
Dozvolite mi da završim ponosna na sve fuziste koji su bili dio prvog festivala, one koji će ponovno biti i one koji će to tek postati.
A ti, Pandorina kutijo, ostani otvorena da iziđe i ona zadnja stvar iz tebe: NADA.
Do tada, vraćam se svojoj produženoj kavi u velikoj šalici, do vrha punoj. Baš kako volim.
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We could start like this:
“Modern times have brought changes to all dance styles, including the world of oriental dances. Since oriental dance itself has developed many styles over time, contact with other dances has led to the merging of two or more dance genres into so-called fusions. Some fusions still retain a strong oriental flair, while others have moved significantly away from the authenticity of traditional oriental dance.
Since fusion is a blend of two differences, it creates a dance style that offers limitless possibilities for creativity, as well as the use of any musical backing. The foundation remains oriental, and everything else is an upgrade using steps from other dances.
Some of the oriental fusions include: Latino Oriental, Afro Oriental, Flamenco Oriental, Bellynesian (oriental/Polynesian), Contemporary Oriental, and many others.”
But we won’t start that way because:
I could go on forever like this… about the rules, the loopholes in those very rules, the genres, the subgenres, the non-genres, the misconceptions that these are even genres at all… but there are other websites, other writers, and videos that show this much more clearly. I would rather reflect on other things that accompanied the first oriental fusion festival and deserved to be mentioned. All of them. Both the encouraging ones and those that wanted to bypass us and not notice us—not out of some great malice, but out of fear of the new. An age-old problem.
We started timidly, full of questions and fears: “Can we do this, and are we ready for such a big bite?” Will anyone apply, will anyone support us, will we raise enough money to cover the costs, will the hall ultimately be full, will ANYONE AT ALL notice us and know we exist?
And so that large, brim-full cup of Caffè Americano was sipped, while hundreds of question marks hung over our heads. And I told myself: “Woman, if you fall, fall with style. Giving up is not a verb you use.”
And that’s when the miracle called fusions begins.
Applications, interest, advice, help, new people, new experiences, mistakes, and successes… a madness that carried us right up to the week of our big exam. And plenty of large cups of Caffè Americano, filled to the brim.
When people asked me if I was satisfied with how the festival went… How could I not be when what I see is exactly what we wanted to achieve, proving that it can be done, and that there are still those of us who can pull it off: togetherness, cooperation, and the fight to keep the love for dance exactly as it should be—without calculations, with a lot of love and a desire to learn how to be a better person and a greater dancer.
This is the message that the dance scene, not just the oriental one but much wider, started letting slip from its hands a while ago, forgetting the togetherness that used to bind us and the support that has been missing for a long time in the form it should be given…
They told me that what I am doing is a utopia. That it is impossible to connect the unconnected.
They are right. They really are. In all seriousness. What I am doing is a utopia.
But it is my utopia. And it will survive as long as there is the will to dance and create these beautiful oriental fusions.
The story of good and bad fusions followed the days after the festival, suddenly surfacing and opening up like a Pandora’s box. Yes, they exist. I agree. But likewise, good and bad exist in all other dance styles too. Still, it is easier to look into the neighbor’s yard, find a thousand flaws there, and fail to notice your own.
The only thing I said back then was: if we weren’t worth anything, if we hadn’t achieved something, if the audience didn’t love us and want us on stage, we would be forgotten on the margins where we used to exist. And the dust wouldn’t have settled. And we wouldn’t be breaking prejudices about us. We knew that. We felt that we were actually confronting the fears that there is no room for everyone. There is. There is room for anyone who knows how and wants to find it.
Let us not fear prejudices, because they are there to be broken down.
But let’s leave that story for another time.
Allow me to finish proud of all the fusionistas who were part of the first festival, those who will be again, and those who are yet to become.
And you, Pandora’s box, stay open so that the very last thing can come out of you: HOPE.
Until then, I am returning to my large cup of Caffè Americano, filled to the brim. Just the way I like it.