I have long been fascinated by the many different ways an audience can view the same performance. One person may love it, the next may hate it. Why? How can one performance effect two people so very differently? Well, I believe it comes down to our backgrounds, and how we have learned to relate to art.

And yes, dance truly is an art, along with music, visual art, and literature. All of these areas stem from the human soul and its need to explore, explain, and express. Whether it’s a personal catharsis, a mirror held up to society, or a retelling of tradition, belly dance at its best should be classified and seen as art. Art doesn’t have to be confined to a museum, behind glass, to be understood, appreciated, and performed. The way our buildings are designed, the recordings of music we hear on the radio, and stories that we read in the paper all contain the essence of art. So whether it’s done for the stage, or performed in a folkloric style for communal celebration, belly dance is of the realm of art. (How successful a performance is as art is another matter.)

In our society, we are often taught to view art in one of two ways: comparison (left brain orientation) or interpretation (right brain orientation). For example, a sampling of people may be shown four images of flowers, and asked to pick their favorite: a color photograph, an oil painting by Van Gogh, a watercolor by Georgia O’Keefe, and a 17th century Flemish painting of a still life—and asked to pick what they think is best. Those who are taught to compare are most likely to select the photograph or the realistic Flemish painting. Those who are taught to interpret are most likely to pick the Van Gogh or O’Keefe. Why? In the comparative mind, the individual seeks to find similarities and likeness—more specifically, what looks most like a flower as we see it with our own eyes? The more realistic it is to our mind’s eye of what a flower is, the better it is. In the interpretive mind, the individual responds more to an emotional response, looking to find what image most responds to how they’re feeling or piques their inquisitive side. So they will find passion or sadness in Vincent’s flowers because of his use of color and liberal brushstrokes, or power or sensuality in O’Keefe’s work due to its size and composition, and chose that over a more realistic presentation.

The same concept is true for a belly dance audience, whether they’re educated about the dance or not. People who view dance through comparison are most likely to enjoy performances that they find familiar and best represents their idea of what belly dance is through the style, technique, movements, music, and costuming. Those who view dance through interpretation are going to respond more to stage presence, quality of the sound and visual presentation, connectivity to the music, emotional expression, etc. They may not be familiar with the style of dance, but they’re less likely to be analyzing it from a left brain perspective. Instead, they’re looking for how it makes them feel, what images it creates for them. They invest emotionally in the performance, rather than analyzing it for physical content.

For dancers, this also creates two kinds of students. The left brained student will be more comfortable studying one form or style of dance, and prefer to study and practice it for a long period of time. The right brained student is more likely to study multiple forms of dance, often simultaneously, and explore abundantly. Obviously, there will be exceptions to the types, but most people fit neatly into either category.

Again, to consider what these differences mean to an audience and the performance it is viewing. A left brained dancer who has been studying American Tribal Style for 2 years (and this is her first study of any kind of dance) will respond more positively to other Tribal performances, if she can recognize the movements, costuming, and/or music. A right brained dancer who has studied both Modern Egyptian and Tribal Fusion over a period of 2 years will respond more to the performances that evoke an emotional or contemplative response, versus a presentation that only displays precise technique.

Neither approach is wrong, they’re just different ways of seeing the same thing. But these variations in thought processes are more likely to yield separate responses, versus the same conclusion.

What does this mean for us as audience members? Well, for one thing, it can help us understand why our friends may feel totally different about a piece we love or hate—and that neither of us are necessarily wrong in our opinions. That’s the beauty of art: how we see it is totally subjective to who we are and what makes us up. It can also allow us to experience how our friends view the performance and get a better understanding of both them, and the dance.

As performers, we need to understand and appreciate the differences in audience personality, and take that to heart when we hear varying opinions about what we presented, whether they’re fiercely negative or glowingly positive. If you can better understand the root reason for why someone responded negatively or positively to your dance, then it offers you the opportunity to grow more as a dancer, and consider what the next step should be for you. It will make you a stronger, more creative dancer in the process.

Tempest