Keti Sharif 
interview with Kerry Stewart Perth, May 2003 

First published in  Bellydance Oasis Magazine 

Kerry: I understand you began bellydancing as a teenager, Keti, "mesmerised by a Macedonian gypsy dancer".

Keti: Yes, I actually saw the dancer when I was 12 years old - the imprint she left on my memory was huge because I'd never seen a woman who was so...so sensual, powerful and charismatic, but also not the stereotypical 'female star' - she didn't have a stick thin body, she was over 50 and that was profound. At seventeen, I took up bellydancing, but Dad said to me "Look, you can't dance any more because in our culture, bellydancing is seen as something bad or done by the gypsies, and I said "Sure, Dad", but I kept sneaking out of the house every Thursday night.

Kerry: Then what happened to Dad's attitude?

Keti: Well, I guess his attitude would have stayed the same but when I was eighteen, I was involved in a really bad car accident. I broke thirteen bones in my body; hip, wrists, shoulders and ribs. My face was totally smashed and both lungs were punctured - it was touch and go...literally. When mum rushed to the hospital, the doctor had already pronounced me dead. Against his orders, she pushed the doctor aside and started praying like a maniac, pounding on my chest instinctively. It was because of her I 'woke up'...she saved my life.

Sometimes it takes something like that to make your whole family reassess their relationships. After that, my Dad relaxed and let me dance. But for me it became a healing art; wrists rolls healed my broken wrists, the chest circles improved my lungs, hip circles and figure of eights helped my hips and contrary to what the doctors predicted - I have never had a back-ache in my life! I know the healing was because of bellydance... it was my deepest therapy. That's why I never cover the scars on my back when I dance.

So, at first, I was attracted to bellydancing for its charisma, its brilliance, then I discovered it was an incredible healing art. It wasn't until later that it actually became a performance art.

Kerry: There was a lot of music in your family, can you talk about what that must have brought to you?

Keti: Sure. In my family I'm probably the only one that isn't 'musically inclined'. All the family are trained musicians in classical or jazz music, they're all Conservatorium trained, or have been to University. They're really passionate about their music and just being around them made me aware of what music is all about. But, as a young girl, I always felt that music was this incredibly passionate medium, yet one I couldn't tap into because I couldn't play an instrument. So, by finding the musicality or the musical qualities in bellydancing, and finding that dance was my way to express music, I learnt that we all have a musical awareness. Lots of dancers are like that. Maybe we don't play music but we are music when we dance.

Kerry: Yes, Nadia Gamal said, "Sing the music with your body". Would you like to speak about your first or early teachers and influences on your dancing?

Keti: Every teacher has been so damn good. You known, you get so much from a teacher, it doesn't really matter if they're a world star or someone at the local TAFE, if they've got that generous spirit it brings so much into your dancing. For example, my first teacher was a woman called Serene, a British lady who came to Australia and did some dancing here. She did some Polynesian dancing as well, so she had these amazingly agile hips. I think that because of her Polynesian dance, she brought some extra excitement into her art. I loved that about her, I learnt a lot through her.

Then I went to Sydney and started taking lessons with lots of different teachers, class-hopping really. I loved attending the Festivals, and I think they're fabulous …Then I had the opportunity to go to Cairo. I didn't know much about who to choose so I got lessons with local Egyptian women teaching privately. They didn't have a great grasp of English and they didn't really know how to describe the music or the movements, they'd stand in front of you and say "Ok, follow me" - but when you don't known how to do those hip moves, it's such a mystery. I often couldn't follow them.

But then, I started Mahmoud Reda's lessons and he was so clear and logical in his explanations. He's a world class teacher, with an amazing teaching style - analysing and breaking it down so it made sense to my Western left brain. If I hadn't done that, I probably couldn't have then gone into the really emotional stuff; because of the structure that people like Mahmoud Reda and Hossam Ramzy brought in to my dancing and my teaching, it later let the emotional qualities of the music come through.

Kerry: So you felt you had to approach it from a logical place first before you could tap into the emotional side?

Keti: Yes, see I'm not one of these lucky women who are born emotionally and artistically expressive, I had to learn the structure and the base before I felt free enough to get emotional. Maybe it's a Western thing, because the Egyptian girls don't have much structure in their dancing, but nonetheless it's beautifully structured because they're emotionally so free. They know the music so well. I guess I came into it as a Western girl, a shy girl, not a really expressive person, so for me to learn the base movements and the counting and the technicality was the best launching pad I could have to go into the more emotional elements of bellydancing.

Kerry: I'm interested in what you're saying about coming into it as a Western girl because it is a very passionate and emotional art and there's such an interest in the Western world in this art at the moment. Why do you think that is?

Keti: I think that every woman wants to be a woman. Every woman deep down wants to experience what it's like to be a full woman and that's being really soft and tender, vulnerable and beautiful, and also being really charismatic and powerful and projecting an aura of dynamism and confidence. That's what we all want - the wholeness of being a woman, and there aren't many other arts where you can get all of that stuff. You can go to one art where you can learn to be very powerful as a woman, maybe public speaking, or you can go to another art and learn to become soft and expressive, but bellydancing does it all...and it does it really well.

Kerry: So, you went to Cairo to study the dance. How did you come to perform in Cairo?

Keti: I performed the second time I went there. There's a group called the Hassan Folkloric Troupe and I was in their show. I wasn't ready to be dancing on the stage with such a professional troupe, but it made me grow, it forced me to grow.

In retrospect, I wasn't ready for that kind of job. I was okay, but I definitely wasn't really professional or polished; I think I was lucky and I was young, perhaps it was a novelty to have a foreigner dancing there. In those days, there weren't that many foreigners there. But I did get to see a lot of shows. Neni, Hendeya, Fifi...and I would always go and talk to the dancers after the shows. I used to go to Dina's show as often as I could - it nearly sent me broke!

Kerry: So what was the dancing like in Cairo then compared to now?

Keti: That was ten years ago. It's changed a lot. At that stage, I remember there was a woman called Samasem, a blonde haired Swedish dancer and I remember everyone raving about her. They’d say, "She's blonde, she's from Europe but my god she dances better than the Egyptians." So I went to see her and she was stunning, she was really earthy. I think in those days, if a Westerner danced like an Egyptian, they appreciated that, people respected it more, or were more fascinated by it.

Now, it seems that there are lots of formulas around and lots of schools that teach how to dance like an Egyptian very easily, very efficiently, so there's a lot of girls coming in who look like Egyptian dancers. At the moment, there's a lot of Russian dancers who are coming in, and technically they dance quite an Egyptian style. They can pick it up fast because they're ex-ballerinas or gymnasts, they've been in show business or dancing; the more Eastern emotional quality is sometimes missing, but not always.

Kerry: You also danced at the Ramses Hilton and you’ve said that forced you to grow as dancer. What happened then?

Keti: Do you want me to tell you how it forced me to grow? I had to work with a band. When most Egyptian bellydancers go into Cairo, they have to find their own band, source their own agents etc and it's quite a process. I was really lucky in the fact that I got a package deal, my accommodation, my airfare, the band, all given to me. With this band though, the problem was that they didn't speak a word of English! They were brilliant musicians, but I had to learn how to communicate fast - with the drummer especially...really fast! The language I spoke with them was a mixture of a tiny bit of Arabic with a lot of grunting and making popping sounds with my mouth and clapping - it forced me to be expressive when I communicated. Seriously, Kerry, I'd been very shy as a child, I was the kind of kid that was terrified of lifting their hands up in the classroom to answer the teacher's question, let alone talk in front of people. But nowdays I'm always waving my hands around madly, and I tend to talk quite expressively. I'm sure it all stems from the old days with the crazy musicians at the Cairo Hilton.

Even in my classes, I make lots of popping sounds with my tongue and I sing music and 'pretend to be a drum'. It taught me to communicate aurally. And not be afraid of looking stupid! I have taught non-English speaking students in France, Holland and Malaysia with my various 'grunting techniques'!

Kerry: Apart from visiting Egypt a lot, you lived in the South East of Turkey for a while.

Keti: Yes, in Gaziantep. Some people call it Antep and it’s known for the best pistachios (fizduk) in the world. You know, in Turkey, they call an attractive woman a 'fizduk'! Antep's in the deep south of Turkey, one hour by car from the Syrian border. So, you can imagine, it has quite an Arabic influence. The Moslems there are very religious. Everyone is covered in the veil. You will not see a woman on the street with her hair out. It's the social norm that if you live in this place, you cover as a sign of respect.

When I was there, I was veiled. I wore an ortu. With an ortu, you cover the hair and fold the veil down at the temples and bring it under the chin and pin it at the sides. It still shows your face. My grandmother-in-law (at the time) sewed sequins into all of mine! I'm sure it was a tongue-in-cheek joke.

Kerry: You've said your experience of village life in Egypt, Jordan, Greece and Morocco expanded your view of women's dance in the Middle East. Can you talk more about what those experiences did for your understanding of the dance?

Keti: In the Middle East, when I was at parties, dancing with the ladies- not as a professional dancer, but as one of the guests - the dance somehow made more sense to me. I realised why people were doing it, it's not just a performance art. It's really a means of celebration in a society which can be quite restrictive at times. They probably don't feel restricted, but there are a lot of rules; you have to do the right thing, dress and act modestly; in the West we would call it suppression, although they wouldn't see it as that. Dance is a way for them to express themselves, it seemed as if they were finding a kind of feminine power and accessing that with their dance.

Kerry: Michele Drouart's book, Into the Wadi, demonstrates how much time the women spend together. She rarely saw her fiancee (later her husband), they didn't get much time alone together. The cultural differences were enormous.

Keti: People have very close personal space in the Middle East. In Turkey, I wasn't really able to go anywhere alone. Especially if you've come to live with them from another country, they feel that they must be with you all the time. There were times when, for example, you'd want to visit the bathroom and about three or four of the women would follow you and sit outside while you're in there, all trying to carry on a conversation; there's no personal space (as we'd call it in the West).

In Michelle's book there is a wonderful sense of camaraderie among the women, which I felt too with close friends and family, but at the same time, there's that enormous cultural difference in personal space; it's huge. Even when they're dancing, the women dance very close, not just holding hands or touching fingers, they will actually grab each other's arms so their arms are pressed close into their bodies and their bodies are squashed together as they dance. The effect this creates is a wave-like motion, you're not dancing alone. You're part of a big wave, a big undulation. Everyone goes forward together and back together and hips are all pushing at the same time. Very communal.

Kerry: Is this the feeling that comes through in what we call folkloric dancing? Is the folkloric dancing that we see as Westerners anything like what is done at celebrations, weddings?

Keti: It's pretty close. The truest folkloric dance is really organic. It's because of more formulated styles of folklore that have come from the Reda Academy or the National Troupe in Egypt that we've come to think that folkloric dance is a series of steps. The only reasons those guys did it that way was because these folkloric pieces had to be presented on stage or television.

Kerry: So much of folkdance is oral, and traditional, it must be very hard to research.

Keti: That's right, dance never had a big place in documented history. The University course that I did was in Fine Art History and during my years researching the history of women's dance, I found there's not much written on it. I guess, dance was an entertainment art and it was private and exclusive at times, so they don't write about those things. People wrote about big historical events that men were involved with - wars, revolutions, inventions. Dance images were more something artists sculpted into vases, painted onto walls (and with time these too disintegrated)...images of dance were mostly used as decoration because of its aesthetic beauty. Sometimes the only information that we have are on vases and decorations or sculptures.

But dance flourished in the art world right from the Babylonian days. The intellectual pursuits, the academic stuff went one way and was recorded on tablets, texts and books Dancing, relaxation, eating, singing, making music, poetry, all those went another way and the artistic stuff stayed "art", passed down from one person to another.

Kerry: What was the attitude of village women that you lived with or mixed with to their dancing - were they conscious of what they were doing or was it such an organic part of their lives?

Keti: In the village, dance was very spontaneous. For example, in the morning the women would meet for some mint tea and they would read the Koran, and when they decided that they'd been well fed religiously, they'd close the book and all of a sudden, the tape deck would go on, a sense of joy filled the air, and everyone was up dancing. It's not planned like we go to aerobics on Thursday morning or go out dancing on Friday night, it's something that just happens. It's a wild kind of exuberant nature that we don't get to experience nearly enough. But they do it daily.

Kerry: So then, do you think that we as Westerners can really separate the culture from the dance when we learn to dance?

Keti: No, not totally. We can get academic with the dance, we can explain moves and we can work out what music goes with what movement. We can make amazing choreographies and the most brilliant stage presentations. But in the end, if we want to experience the soul of the dance, we have to go back to its most simple source, and that is that its spontaneous, its about celebration, and it's communication between people. That all points back to the culture.

Kerry: With Moslem fundamentalism becoming so strong in Egypt, how do people view folkloric dance and dancing at weddings and celebrations?

Keti: The dance will always exist as a celebration where people get up at weddings, birthdays, festivals, things like that. In a way, there's a big polarity in Egyptian society when it comes to how dance is viewed.

The folkloric styles of dance are really loved and celebrated. Dance is everywhere in Egypt, you see it everywhere, you hear the music everywhere, but the traditional stuff has a lot of respect. Everyone knows Mahmoud Reda. They say, "Oh yes, he's fabulous, I've seen all the wonderful films he's made". People love the zaar even though the zaar is a non-Islamic tradition. It has that trance-like quality with the incense, the shaking of the head, and they love this affiliation with a religious experience.

Of course, when they watch this, it's so different to cabaret dancing in a night club. We might see them as both equally beautiful expressions of dance, but for them, one is closely tied to their own culture, to the roots and old farming traditions, while the other is an embodiment of the seduction of the 'anti Islamic' West - a place that lacks modesty and morals. I better stop here or we'll get politically or religiously sidetracked!

Mahmoud Reda is a dancer and a choreographer, and what he's doing is not so removed from what a girl dancing on a Nile cruise ship is doing. They're both beautiful, they're both artistic, but the way that she's viewed is quite condescending. They view the dancer as having more Western morals, showing her body, belonging to "everyone". Her movements, even though essentially very similar to "stage folklore" may be seen as suggestive, the flamboyant costume arouses images of 'cabaret dancing girls; there is a lot of judgement by the Egyptian audience. I know.

I know really good families in Egypt, open minded, highly educated people, who still have this feeling of shame when it comes to dancers. They'd feel ashamed if their son married a dancer, for example. It’s okay if she comes into their party or dances for a wedding, but if their son was to marry her, it's a real family shame or a public scandal.

Kerry: Have you felt that attitude personally?

Keti: Sure, I mean I was recently engaged to someone in politics and of course, we both felt the strain of public scrutiny. But when it came to the crunch, and I was asked to give up dancing, I said "No".

In Cairo, I watch myself, and I've chosen not to dance there. I've had offers, and it would be beautiful to dance in this place and gain respect and admiration from the audience, but I know the people too well. And I know that as much as they'd love your art, as a person, you would not get the same respect as you would if you weren't a dancer. If you're not a dancer, it's much easier for them to assimilate into their society, but if you're a dancer, you're always going to be somehow on the edge.

The same goes for musicians and entertainers, even people on television. They have this attitude about people in the entertainment industry, which is almost the opposite to the way we revere so much anybody who's been on TV or even starred in “Neighbours”. (Here, it would be considered quite glamorous to marry an Australian television star.) Even high class dancers like Lucy or Dina still have people making judgements about them. No matter how much they love them as stars or artists, they'll make a judgement about them politically, socially, religiously. I don't like this attitude, but its reality.

Kerry: A good example of this would be the controversy and media frenzy surrounding Dina over recent months. I understand that you've spoken to her recently.

Keti: Yes, on our last tour we were using her studio in Cairo and she came in to say hello. Dina's a really lovely lady - an educated and down to earth woman - vulnerable and honest as she speaks. She said she has made no firm decisions about performance yet, that she still would love to teach and that right now she has taken time off from performing. She said the harsh judgments of the Egyptian people and media have made her somewhat depressed, but that with this time away from dance and the public eye, she is enjoying spending time with her small son, Ali and...eating! She told me it’s great to be able to eat what she wants and not worry about squeezing into a costume right now. She still looks divine! I told her that dancers worldwide will support any decision she makes, because we love her and the heart she has given to Egyptian dance. Oh...and she said she'd like to come to Oceana Arts Centre to teach.

Kerry: So how is fundamentalism affecting the dance in Egypt?

Keti: It's interesting that even as the Egyptian Government and fundamentalists are getting so strong, some of the dancers are getting more raunchy, as if society being so conservative at one end, it's forcing this balance at the other end.

I really believe that the reason the dance persists in the Middle East is because it's there to balance things up. In the 1950's and 1960's, Egyptian society was very cosmopolitan. Cairo was one of the world centres for the cinema industry, and it was very glamorous and European. Women wore short sleeves in the street, and bellydance had a lot of soft sensuality and emotional quality - a lot of integrity. There was still a baladi feel about the dance, with Tahiya and Nagwa.

Later, as women were forced to wear more clothes on the street, and were looked at as having questionable morals if they wore even a T-shirt, the dance simultaneously became more burlesque in some of the clubs. And the irony is that it is the Egyptian businessmen and Saudi tourists (male of course) that frequent these clubs!

In Singapore, there's a code of ethics that the Singapore Government has released for anyone teaching dance or theatre arts that they can give as much information about the artistic content, but it is illegal to make any political or religious comment. So, in Singapore, when I was lecturing on the history of bellydance and was unable to draw on any political or religious references, it made it very difficult to explain what the dance was about! That's when I realised that this dance is inextricably linked with politics and religion, social class and standing.

But, the truth remains that whilst bellydancing is blanketed by so much harsh judgement in the Middle East - it is still out there being as flamboyant, dynamic and central to the entertainment industry. It shows that bellydancing is something powerful.

Kerry: Do you think that this is why women in the West are finding this dance so empowering for themselves?

Keti: Yes, all women bellydancing are bold and powerful. I really believe that...I've seen it.

Even in our 'liberated' western society, bellydancing is pushing our own conservative barriers. Think about it...women in their post-bikini years are out there dancing, exposing midriffs with caesarean scars and ample flesh, laughing, being bold and flamboyant...in glittery costumes... in public! It’s fabulous. We all have a conservative streak and bellydancing challenges that. The greatest challenge is not overcoming what others think, but what you think. The day a woman enter a class or dances on stage is often one of the most memorable day in her life. You have got to be bold to do either.

Kerry: I want to ask you how working with Hossam Ramzy has influenced your dancing.

Keti: He's fabulous. Hossam is such a robust personality. Between his jokes and wisecracks, he has the most valuable information any dancer could dream of, that is, that you must be in the music. You must work with the music. He has some real pearls of wisdom, he understands Egyptian culture, and he is able to translate it so beautifully and so humorously. He is very emotional man, and he understands so much about the emotions of the Arabic people and how that filters through into their dance.

Kerry: Over the last five years or so, your own dancing has deepened and developed noticeably. Hossam was obviously one influence, but have you been conscious of other influences or of this change?

Keti: Yes, because I've relaxed a lot. Now, when I dance, I feel warm and relaxed. I walk out into an audience, it doesn't matter whether it's a family party in a lounge room or a Royal wedding with a thousand people, its not like being a performer anymore. It's more like giving something to your audience; giving it with generosity in a very relaxed way.

By relaxing, you allow yourself to enjoy the experience totally and an audience feels your enjoyment. Arabic audiences have told me that I dance a lot with my eyes, and they give me my warmest reception. I feel as if I'm dancing with my family, I open up a beautiful communication, it feels effortless - I don't know who's getting more value, me or them!

Kerry: This allies with the concept behind your A-Z Routines, doesn't it?

Keti: The A-Z Routines are a very logical way of putting bellydance moves together so that dancers have a short cut to choreography, or a short cut to feeling very safe in their rhythm, their feet, their turning, so that they can then embellish with all the emotion they have within that safety.

Kerry: They can relax into it and be expressive..?

Keti: That's right, this stuff eventually become automatic, and that's when you start dancing like the Egyptian people. Your body knows the movement, every cell in your body knows the moves, you doesn't have to think about how to step or do a hip drop; it frees you up to get really expressive.

Kerry: In May 2002, you announced your retirement from regular teaching. Are you phasing out of performing as well?

Keti: No, I love performing and I like to take up any nice performance opportunity. I'm glad that now I've got to the stage where I can choose my audiences. The shows I do now are big ones - international weddings, gala shows, TV events...I'm not interested in contracts, or hotels, nor do I have the time. I prefer one-off shows, being flown into a city, staying in a comfy hotel, doing the show, meeting terrific people...having a few days to sight-see and then going home! I usually only do four to five shows a month. That's enough for me...I feel totally satisfied...and a bit spoilt! For example, I recently did a nice show in Paris dancing for the Princess of Morocco.

My goal with teaching bellydancing, right from the beginning, was to give women something that could help them be more creative and powerful. More dynamic. That dream has come true...I can see the girls in Singapore and Kuala Lumpur continuing as a group, and of course Oasis Dance Studio in Perth has really taken off in its own direction. To see this on a big scale in three cities is a real honour. That makes me happy and proud. I love to go back and visit everyone in all cities as much as possible.

Kerry: I understand that you plan to teach the A-Z Routines taught in Egypt. Is that part of what lies ahead for you now?

Keti: Yes, in November, I have a training course in Egypt and I have also recently been teaching the A-Z in Paris, London and Amsterdam. It’s been pretty well received. Lots of these students are coming to Egypt for the training tours.

Kerry: I understand that you have now moved to Egypt permanently.

Yes, I live in El Gouna, on the coast. The Egyptian bellydance retreats at my new centre 'Oceana', on the Red Sea, are really exciting. I will be incorporating some bellydance workshops in all my retreats...I feel I've experienced so much of what the culture is like, it would be nice to share this with other dancers - introduce them to people and places they wouldn't normally see if they go with a tour group. And we have Ashraf Madhy and many other amazing folkloric and Oriental dance choreographers working with us. Learning bellydance in a country like Egypt really deepens the experience. Not only that, but you have live percussion and Arabic lessons. We dance at the studio near the sea, and also outdoors in the mornings, at a Bedouin oasis. Sometimes we do zill and percussion sessions out on the beach!

The retreats run from July until December. An Aussie group just returned and we all had such a fun time. In October, Oceana Arts Centre hosts its first international conference called "Synergy - Essence of Women's Creativity", with dance, writing, massage, yoga and health lectures for a week, with some really talented speakers and artists. This will be a world first, and I'm really looking forward to it.

I'm looking forward to seeing my fellow Aussie dancers and students in Egypt...I love having Australian dancers on the tours...they are the most fun!

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Reference: Drouart, Michelle Into the Wadi Fremantle Arts Centre Press, 2000 For more information on Keti Sharif's A-Z Routines, Bellydance Live video set, CDs and other resources, see www.ketisharif.com

For information on Oceana Arts Centre, see www.oceana.net.au