#CAIRO 1870: DANCING GIRLS IN THE ROYAL #HAREM
Luise Muehlbach’s account of her visit to the Sultan’s
harem, continued:
There were
twelve dancing girls, and I had never seen such rich and beautiful costumes in
our theatres as these dancers were wearing. The lower part of their body was
covered by long and voluminous dresses of purple velvet with wide
gold-embroidered panels in front and down their thighs. One might call these
garbs wide trousers, but they were not quite like trousers. They were open in
front but tied to the closed back part, so that they gave the impression of
trousers at first, while seen from the back they looked like wide, pleated
dresses. They appeared trouser-like only from the front and were gathered at
the ankles with golden bands. Gold-embroidered shoes of purple velvet were on
the dancers’ feet, and the pleated dresses were tied around their waist with a
golden belt. Their upper bodies were covered with a transparent silk garment. Above
it they wore a short jacket with wide, open sleeves of purple velvet. Their
hair was long and uncurled and tied together with a golden ribbon ending in a
bow…
The music began. Flutes and violins
first, then the clashing of tambourines, then shrill tones of the fagot could
be heard together with the murmur of the bass. The Egyptian music gladdened the
hearts of the Egyptian ladies, while it was a somewhat strange pleasure for us.
After the introductory music, the
dancers stepped up. At first these beautiful women twirled slowly in a circle,
then the music became louder and the dancers moved faster. They whirled in ever
more turbulent and denser circles, they no longer held hands, but with
wonderful vibrations bent forward, then thrust their head and whole upper body
backward. It was precious to see the full, beatific smile playing on their lips,
and the light in their fiery eyes was wonderful. Their faces became ever more
enraptured, their movements more passionate. The movement of their arms and the
vibrations of individual body parts became more vehement. The Egyptians do not
dance with their whole body, as we do. It is not the whole figure that rises or
whirls around dancing. Rather, it is sometimes the arms that dance while the
rest of the body remains quiet, at other times the feet, occasionally only the
upper body, resulting in a marvellous swaying and vibrating of the whole
figure. At one point it looked as if they wanted to throw themselves on the
floor in their rapture, then they jumped up again in a vehement movement, lifting
up their whole body, then their upper body swayed forward blissfully, then
backwards. Finally the whole figure seemed to rest after a tumultuous happiness
and rapture. This is accompanied by music which whirls and intones and
complains in a very strange manner, and the dancing is so passionate and
rapturous that the singers and musicians exult and the princesses clap their
hands enthusiastically and shout “Allah! Allah!”.
At last, breathless and panting, not
from exhaustion but from rapturous bliss, the dancers sank to the floor. They
rested on their backs in picturesque poses, with their head leaning back, their
mouths half open, and a blissful smile on their lips. While they rested, the
musicians started a different strain…
Then a human voice rose up, shrill and loud,
in a strangely vibrating tone, which is regarded as beautiful among Egptian
singers. They began to sing in this way, accompanied by soft musical chords.
Of course I could not understand the
words, but I saw from the expression on the faces of the princesses, from the
sweet quivering and trembling of the dancers, who slowly rose from the floor
and stretched out their arms high with yearning, that it must be a love song,
and when the first stanza ended, the singers fell silent and the soft chords of
the musicians trembled in the air…
When that stanza ended as well, a loud
jubilant cry issued from the lips of the princesses, and they gave loud praise
and thanks to the singers…
Since I could not understand the
words, I was not as affected by the somewhat monotonous melody and the shrill
singing. As far as the Egyptians are concerned, however, the melody is
unimportant compared to the exact enunciation of the words and their
declaiming, to which music is subordinated.
All Egyptians greatly venerate poetry;
music is only an accompaniment, going along with the verse. Our music and
especially our operas seem to them completely unnatural. When I talked to the
princesses about this, for they often attended the Italian opera sitting behind
a golden screen, one of the ladies answered with a smile: “But no one could be
emotionally touched by an opera, even if people pretend to be touched, for it
is always clear that the pain is not real and it would be quite impossible that
dying people sing on and act like that.”
(Translated from Reisebriefe aus Aegypten)