One feature of this year’s Cairo International Festival for Contemporary and Experimental Theatre (CIFCET) is physicality and embodiment, which I want to discuss with reference to Baheya by Karima Beder (Cairo Opera House, Egypt). In two future articles, I will explore the same theme in Dystopia by Mohamed Farag El-Kashab (independent theatre group in Alexandria, Egypt), Surveys the Prairie of your Room by Witness Relocation (USA) and Opium by Mohamed Diban (the Syrian Haraka company, Germany).
Baheya is a dance performance that relies entirely on the choreographic signature of Beder reincarnating the famous Egyptian folk legend-fable of Yasine and Baheya, which was also rendered in literature by the iconic Naguib Sorour. The performance was produced by Forsan El-Sharq (Knights of the Orient) which is one of the companies belonging to the Cairo Opera House. According to what I learnt from Beder, the company maintains a special artistic style that combines elements of Egyptian dance and performance heritage with contemporary choreography. This combination is regarded as the artistic identity that distinguishes it from other companies within the Cairo Opera House (like the modern dance company founded by Walid Aouni, where Beder herself was a main dancer before becoming the Knights of the Orient’s principal choreographer.
In Baheya, Beder somehow manages to shape “Egyptian bodies” on stage, clearly identifying them as “Egyptian”. Contrary to many contemporary dance performances we see in Egypt, Beder declares her “stage bodies” to be Egyptian. Whether through the traditional elements in the costume, music or story, she presents us with a performance that does not look at universality as an aim, especially the kind of universality that erases origin, history and identity. Instead, she sets herself another aim: choreographic authenticity. In this sense, she not only opts for a journey opposite to many of her fellow choreographers, she also reintroduces the concept of Egyptian identity in dance beyond the colonised visions that reproduce the labels and the stereotypes of the coloniser by objectifying Egyptian bodies and transforming them into puppets for the exoticisation of Egyptian heritage.
It is thanks to choreographers like Beder that contemporary dance in Egypt can produce an authentic and unique choreographic language that examines the specificity of Egyptian dance heritage and reinvents it in a contemporary, expressive language. Choreographers of this kind cannot depend on imitation or any fusion of styles, like Beder in this performance they have to create. This journey of creation is primarily a journey of recognising one’s own heritage and identifying it as autonomous, equal and alive. It is a movement away from what we were taught by our Western teachers and icons of modern dance, away from the current cliches of movement and physical ability, and away from a history of the colonisation of the staged body. It is moving forward into a space of identity affirmation that sheds all prejudice vis-à-vis Egyptian forms, such as the stick dance or Raqs Sharqi-Baladi (female Oriental dance).
I could see Beder’s signature in Baheya very clearly. Her style has presence. Her identity as a female choreographer is present as well. The way she choreographs the movement of female physicality, liberating it from the usual typical movements and roles, is emblematic of what a liberated female choreographer could do, given the chance. It was really touching to see this form of female presence on stage, not only in the role of Baheya, played by the fantastic Yasmine Samir, but also in all the other scenes where the female dancers occupy the stage. Actually, it may be enough to say that they equally occupy the stage at last.
It was equally touching to see all the scenes by the male dancers with a choreography profoundly inspired by an Egyptian heritage of male dance, stick dance and a certain physical masculinity that is embedded in those forms. Hany Hassan in the role of Yasine was a great choice. He embodies an authentic image of Egyptian masculinity, especially with reference to Upper Egypt, and brilliantly performs the stick dance and other movement styles that are acknowledged as Upper Egyptian. His very presence and style defy the Westernised image of male dancers on the Egyptian stage. They defy the stigma of the male dancer who is trained in classical ballet, and open the path for a dignified self understanding of Egyptian identity in dance.
Baheya is a very dense piece, an experience to live. You will be astonished when you realise at the end of the performance that it lasted almost 40 minutes or so, but it is not an experience to be counted in minutes, because the intensity goes beyond measurable time. Nevertheless, while the spectators are profoundly enjoying the performance, Baheya suddenly ends. The end comes in an abrupt way, with some confusing scenes that were intended for the applause but not recognised by the spectators as such, and were therefore regarded as part of the performance that did not make sense as an ending. It seems that the choreographic and dramatic intensity of the performance drove the spectators to expect more.
Baheya could still develop and find a new ending for herself, she could still look for a scene that dramaturgically brings a new path to the story, a new layer, or a new dimension. The story resonates so much with our realities, and with all societies with a history of oppression and colonialism. Baheya is not only the young Egyptian female peasant who is raped by the rich oppressor-coloniser-feudal lord while her groom is killed while pursuing his revenge, she is also the traditional and folk symbol of an Egypt searching for liberation, autonomy and dignity. Such a quest will always remain iconic of the Egyptian identity, and will be timelessly connected to change and progress. A dance performance where identity meets the struggle to decolonise, and where heritage meets authentic contemporary choreography, is a performance where history becomes connected, and where the staged bodies become one with the spectating bodies: bodies of performative Egyptian dance.
*A version of this article appears in print in the 10 October, 2019 edition of Al-Ahram Weekly.
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