It could be any dance class, but there is a decidedly exotic twist to the goings-on at Studio 1831, near the Philadelphia Art Museum.
Seven women, dressed in leotards and sarong-style skirts, their brows furrowed in concentration, are lined up in the studio, carefully watching themselves in full-length mirrors, as their instructor, Valerie Rushmere, AS '81, demonstrates moves and calls out advice and encouragement.
A hint to what's going on: Many of the women are wearing crop-tops, with their lower abdomens exposed. You guessed it: They're learning the ancient Middle Eastern art of belly dancing.
Their guide to this centuries-old tradition is Rushmere, who has performed professionally and taught belly dancing for more than 20 years. Today, she dances regularly at the Casablanca restaurant in New Castle, Del., as well as at private parties and other venues; she also operates Studio 1831, where she gives classes in belly dancing and yoga, and teaches at several area health clubs.
"Belly dancing is really about how you move and even more how you express yourself," Rushmere explains. "You can be a mediocre dancer technically but really project beautifully because of your confidence and joy, and vice versa. If you're a wonderful technical dancer and can't project who you are, it's not as interesting. Belly dancing is so much about your personality.
"Jazz dance, which I also love, reflects more the personality of the choreographer. I performed for eight years with the Waves Dance Company, and I was expected to dance with a style consistent with the choreographer's vision of the piece. You have to mimic his image of the movement. Belly dancing is often a solo enterprise-the cabaret style is improvisational, like jazz music. You have the movement structure, you know the music, but you improvise within that framework."
Part of her challenge as an instructor is to instill in her students a comfort level with their dancing as a form of self-expression. In the Middle East, dancing is much more integrated into the social scene. Women dance with each other, as do men, purely for the enjoyment of it and as an expression of their camaraderie, she says.
"Dancing is more woven into the culture," she says. "It's like Zorba the Greek says in the movie, 'You're not living if you're not dancing.' Everybody participates and everybody knows how to dance. Therefore, everybody feels comfortable watching it.
"In America, sometimes, there is an awkwardness if a woman is dancing for a group of men and women. It has more of a sexual connotation. Not that the dance isn't sensual, it is. But, it's expressed differently from culture to culture. American audiences often don't know how to respond. Women might like it, but they aren't sure how to react to it. They don't know if they're allowed to look."
There are other benefits to belly dancing as well, Rushmere says. "For one thing, it helps in appreciating one's body for what it is. One doesn't have to conform to the American standard of the skinny super model to belly dance. It really fosters acceptance of your body, unlike other forms of dance," she says.
The fitness benefits also are worth noting. "Belly dancing's generally a total body conditioner," Rushmere explains. "Unlike the popular misconception that it firms only the abs, it, in fact, tones the whole body. It increases flexibility in the torso. The only thing it doesn't do is help you do a split. It basically covers everything else."
Rushmere's introduction to the dance that would become a career came during the summer before her sophomore year at Delaware. Rushmere had always wanted to study dance, but her parents discouraged her, encouraging her to get a college degree. She chose to major in anthropology. While waitressing in Rehoboth Beach, Rushmere saw a belly-dancing performance at The Camel's Hump, a Middle Eastern restaurant there.
"I was mesmerized," she recalls. "I thought it was such a beautiful dance form. I've always had an interest in how much we are a product of our cultural upbringing. By stepping outside your own perspective, you gain so much. My love of dance is what drew me to belly dancing, and my love of other cultures got me there, too."
When she returned to the University that year, she got her start belly dancing by taking a non-credit course with a teacher from Egypt. "She was a superb teacher," Rushmere says. "At least 50 percent of the students from that class became full- or part-time belly dancers. It was a really dedicated group."
After studying with Bona Khalil for a few semesters at Delaware, Rushmere starting dancing at parties for the Middle Eastern community. Realizing she could profit from her talent, she started a "belly-gram" business, and a career was born. "I had been working at a fast food pizza place," she recalls. "I thought this was a better way to make money."
Her interest in belly dancing led Rushmere to jazz dance, and then to fitness, and, later yoga. After graduating from Delaware, she went on a tour with a group, led by famed dancer Ibrahim Farrah, to study in Cairo.
"What was nice was to see the culture," Rushmere recalls. "We saw a lot of different performers. They gave us a nice overview of different styles. When you went to souks, or bazaars, there, they had great costume materials and jewelry. I was also lucky, I found out. My original teacher was Egyptian. You couldn't get more authentic than her style."
Returning from Egypt, Rushmere began a career of performing, both as a belly dancer and as a jazz dancer with Waves. She also began to teach, a practice she continued off and on at Temple University's non-credit programs and various health clubs in Philadelphia.
In late 1997, she bought her studio in Philadelphia, and she says her interest in teaching now rivals her love of performing. "I'd say I'm evolving toward teaching even though I love performing and always have," she explains. "Teaching is so exciting, to see people involved, not just physically, but also to see their confidence level and comfort level with their own bodies improve significantly. Women will come to class feeling awkward and inhibited. After a few classes, you see the clothes start to come off, and they'll express themselves in a different way."
-Robert DiGiacomo, AS '88