Sufi Dancing
The rhythm of life in Cairo begins around dawn with the first call to prayers. This tempo continues throughout the day. Islam and the faithful are seldom out of sync.
Nowhere is this more apparent than in Sufi dancing, the nature of which is a spiritual religious ceremony transcending into performing art. For over 700 years the Sufi, a mystical branch of Islam has honored the tradition.
Twice weekly in Cairo there are Sufi (Whirling Dervish) performances, although performances do not accurately describe the pleasure the dancers and musicians derive and generate. The Persian word “darwish” (literally the sill of the door) is accepted in Arabic as “dervish” to describe the Sufi who is the one at the door to enlightenment. Originally the dance, more accurately a movement, was performed in “tekkes” or dervish schools which were also prayer lodges.
The smiles, the passion, the mischief; the astonishing ability to spin and whirl without pause for extended periods draws delighted sighs and amazement from the audience.
Held at an arts centre in old Cairo, seating is in a star filled open-air walled section. The setting is simple, allowing music, song and dance to take centre stage.
Musicians gather, dressed in pure white flowing galabayas with woven turbans, fess hats and tassels. Drums, flutes, string instruments, tambourines and an Egyptian version of castanets all tinker. The viewers sit forward anticipating a treat.
The first notes begin; a soft breeze catches the tune and delivers it to the audience; it’s exotic; it’s strong. It is beautiful and takes the listener on a journey through a sacred faith. Musicians play for themselves, for each other and for you, the audience.
The harmonies are rich, the melodies are a tapestry and infectious. Select performers move forward to serenade with their own instruments, the castanet’s player clicked and jingled, his arms and expressions rose and fell in tune with the troupe. The audience was his, to do with as he wished. His eyes twinkled. His long white robes floated as he pranced and strutted across the stage sharing his humour and delight; his rhythms become your rhythms.
A solitary figure clothed in robes of many colours and layers magically next appeared on centre stage. He acknowledged the audience then began to move clockwise to circle time and time again. One of my companions timed the dancer’s seamless circles, which were without pause for 30 minutes. The dancer had 5 coloured patterned tambourines, which he balanced, arranged and reordered many times. The circling was mesmerising; the rhythm a journey. The tambourines were retired; their part in the ritual completed. The dancer next removed his jacket; all the while his step was unbroken. The fabric of his skirts extended an arms length from his waist, there were 3 layers of skirts, which moved with their own energy and pulse. Fluid, full, a visual circle that seemed to extend the space occupied by the dancer.
Traditional Sufi Dervish chant a “dhikr”, the repetition of "la illaha illa'llah" (there is no god but God). However, some Dervish may only repeat "Allah" because they know man can die at any moment, and they want only the name of God on their lips and in their hearts. The left foot of the whirler should never be raised, but sometimes it is, in a moment of ecstasy.
The top skirt was loosened and raised in a slow transit. Imagine water, liquid in nature but in a contained space. The removal of the top skirt was flowing and uninterrupted; the colours vivid and alive, all the while the dancer’s circular journey seemed to defy the laws of motion. Rhythm and grace in an unbroken worship. His face took on a tranquil trance-like veneer, his arms gently travelled from across his chest, as if in prayer, to above his head; a celebration of his faith, a thanksgiving. His feet, covered in soft pale shoes continued an unhurried clockwise dance; turn, turn, turn.
The music complimented the orchestral beat; the next layer of skirt was removed in a gentle flourish of swirl and colour. The last layer was lighter; the oscillations providing the momentum, the flow of the fabric rose and fell in tune with the synchronized gestures.
To an unknown note the celebration stopped. The dancer ceased his movements. He focused on the audience, re-establishing contact, his sight clear, his smile full and his state of being blissful. The dancer’s rhythmic prayer had peaked and ended.
The rhythm of daily life in Cairo was drawn to a close with the evening call to prayers.
Nowhere is this more apparent than in Sufi dancing, the nature of which is a spiritual religious ceremony transcending into performing art. For over 700 years the Sufi, a mystical branch of Islam has honored the tradition.
Twice weekly in Cairo there are Sufi (Whirling Dervish) performances, although performances do not accurately describe the pleasure the dancers and musicians derive and generate. The Persian word “darwish” (literally the sill of the door) is accepted in Arabic as “dervish” to describe the Sufi who is the one at the door to enlightenment. Originally the dance, more accurately a movement, was performed in “tekkes” or dervish schools which were also prayer lodges.
The smiles, the passion, the mischief; the astonishing ability to spin and whirl without pause for extended periods draws delighted sighs and amazement from the audience.
Held at an arts centre in old Cairo, seating is in a star filled open-air walled section. The setting is simple, allowing music, song and dance to take centre stage.
Musicians gather, dressed in pure white flowing galabayas with woven turbans, fess hats and tassels. Drums, flutes, string instruments, tambourines and an Egyptian version of castanets all tinker. The viewers sit forward anticipating a treat.
The first notes begin; a soft breeze catches the tune and delivers it to the audience; it’s exotic; it’s strong. It is beautiful and takes the listener on a journey through a sacred faith. Musicians play for themselves, for each other and for you, the audience.
The harmonies are rich, the melodies are a tapestry and infectious. Select performers move forward to serenade with their own instruments, the castanet’s player clicked and jingled, his arms and expressions rose and fell in tune with the troupe. The audience was his, to do with as he wished. His eyes twinkled. His long white robes floated as he pranced and strutted across the stage sharing his humour and delight; his rhythms become your rhythms.
A solitary figure clothed in robes of many colours and layers magically next appeared on centre stage. He acknowledged the audience then began to move clockwise to circle time and time again. One of my companions timed the dancer’s seamless circles, which were without pause for 30 minutes. The dancer had 5 coloured patterned tambourines, which he balanced, arranged and reordered many times. The circling was mesmerising; the rhythm a journey. The tambourines were retired; their part in the ritual completed. The dancer next removed his jacket; all the while his step was unbroken. The fabric of his skirts extended an arms length from his waist, there were 3 layers of skirts, which moved with their own energy and pulse. Fluid, full, a visual circle that seemed to extend the space occupied by the dancer.
Traditional Sufi Dervish chant a “dhikr”, the repetition of "la illaha illa'llah" (there is no god but God). However, some Dervish may only repeat "Allah" because they know man can die at any moment, and they want only the name of God on their lips and in their hearts. The left foot of the whirler should never be raised, but sometimes it is, in a moment of ecstasy.
The top skirt was loosened and raised in a slow transit. Imagine water, liquid in nature but in a contained space. The removal of the top skirt was flowing and uninterrupted; the colours vivid and alive, all the while the dancer’s circular journey seemed to defy the laws of motion. Rhythm and grace in an unbroken worship. His face took on a tranquil trance-like veneer, his arms gently travelled from across his chest, as if in prayer, to above his head; a celebration of his faith, a thanksgiving. His feet, covered in soft pale shoes continued an unhurried clockwise dance; turn, turn, turn.
The music complimented the orchestral beat; the next layer of skirt was removed in a gentle flourish of swirl and colour. The last layer was lighter; the oscillations providing the momentum, the flow of the fabric rose and fell in tune with the synchronized gestures.
To an unknown note the celebration stopped. The dancer ceased his movements. He focused on the audience, re-establishing contact, his sight clear, his smile full and his state of being blissful. The dancer’s rhythmic prayer had peaked and ended.
The rhythm of daily life in Cairo was drawn to a close with the evening call to prayers.
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posted by PC and JT at 3:56 pm
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