Adonis Diaries

Do you feel dancing like mad, occasionally? Or reciting poetry?

Is there any connection for dancing hard and reciting poetry?

Are the two activities an urge to change, a liberation of a rotten situation that endured too long?

Are the two activities basically initiated by women?

Why do we dance?

Gillian Schutte posted:

“Dance is used in protest in many parts of the world.

In South Africa, dance and song has always been intrinsic to protesting for human rights – and is often led by women.  Dance was considered the most performing rebellious/revolutionary act to display in front of the apartheid regime precisely because it said to them that no matter what they do they will never restrain the human spirit, the ability to dance and be.

Dance denotes a freedom of body, mind and soul.

It is both a celebratory and a rebellious act in that it speaks of a freedom of movement, a non-restricted relationship to body and is the … antithesis of an oppressed, restrained and violated body.

Dance is essentially non-patriarchal and it rebels against patriarchal control over the female body.

It is a misnomer to think of celebration as non-revolutionary. Celebration is the ultimate rebellious act in a world that is dictated to us by non-celebratory forces.

It is every women’s right to live in a celebratory world – one that celebrates her sexuality, her beauty, her wisdom, her body, her right to be orgasmic and free. To not recognize that urge is to remain in the clutches of the austere and patriarchal ethos.

To pooh pooh dance in protest also speaks of a western superiority as dance is used in protest in non-western culture naturally – why should we then not include it in a global movement?

Perhaps it is time for dissenters to consider what celebration and contemporary protest have in common, to wonder what such ritualized display of dissent may be able to do in a dynamic process of social change.

Dance, carnival and celebration has been used throughout history to destabilize restrictive leadership and government and it is destabilizing in that it cannot be contained or categorized as aggressive. This is not about women playing dance, it’s about revolution. You have the choice to rise, strike or dance.

Those who would like to dance should be free to do so!”

The Poetry of Creatures

A poetry reading in Lebanon.

Nath Halawani posted a review of a poetry evening at Dar Bistro:

It’s one of those evenings that make me content with the choice I made over a year ago: to come back to Lebanon.

I had promised both poets I’d make them look like legends.

Matter of fact they didn’t need my help, they were there. I already hold deep admiration to Sara Sibai’s performance.

In fact I was just thinking of asking her later on to send me one of the poems she recited that night.

The idea got kicked out by the fact that a few lines won’t simply do, I’d need a video recording, better yet, I’d need to watch her performing live.

Sara Sibai

As for Omar, he shone like I’ve never seen a person shine before.

I’m known for my bluntness, my abstention to compliment people; Omar was truly an energetic human, whose light was reflected within the letters of every word he recited.

Omar BR

I felt a bit uncomfortable though, embarrassed with the noise my camera’s shutter kept making, such noise that broke the serenity of Dar Bistro.

The scene I was having pictured in mind needed to be caught on camera. I knew everyone would excuse me and understand.

Throughout the evening, both poets invited the audience for some contribution as well, and what contribution that was!

Last thing I expected was to witness the rogue dance of both emotions and reason in front of my eyes whenever a poem was screamed out loud.

The amount of sorrow, hatred, love and peace kept popping out dandling tenderly on the coffee tables

A few heads were looking up onto one direction, others were simply reaching out for an unseen world where the poem was taking place.

I hold but pure respect to both Sara and Omar, for their initiative replenished my faith in my choice and this tiny country, all drenched in chaos.