A Wednesday Dance

Shahrokh Moshkin Ghalam performs a dance he choreographed himself, Faryad. I saw him perform this piece on stage last year. I have written about Shahrokh Moshkin Ghalam and his efforts to bring back what was lost of traditional Persian dance when it was banned after Islam. Moshkin Ghalam believes parts of Persian dance can be seen in traditional Indian dances and some in Flamenco dances. A part of the research he is doing is to gather those pieces and re-construct the Persian dance. In his highly athletic as well as expressive dance pieces he tries to show us what he has accomplished so far. I can tell you to watch him perform live is to let yourself be mesmerized!

I wish you all a happy Wednesday everybody. I am working a short day today, so I will write more later!

P.S. Earlier this morning I had posted a clip of Shahrokh Moshkin Ghalam's "Shir Ali Mardan" dance here. I received a comment from kind Cukoo. Reading that comment, I decided to change the clip and show you the one you can see now. This might be a better presentation of the emotion Moshkin Ghalam can put in his work. He is an actor first and foremost, did you know? He is a member of Paris' acclaimed Comedie Francaise. Cukoo Jan, thank you for the reminder and the challenge. I hope you enjoy this. You rock!

Happiness Trainees

Some of the best joys in life are free. If we are lucky enough to run into them and recognize their value, our attitudes and approaches to life can be reset and setup with unlimited cheer and happiness. Take a look at this video clip. It shows two little girls dance a Lezgi dance to sweet Azeri music. They are what I call "dancers and happy people in training!" I hope you enjoy watching this as much as I did tonight, when I really needed the cheer. Enjoy!

Dance of Hope

Paris-based Iranian dancer, Sahar Dehghan, performs a modern dance with a Persian inspiration. Music and cello by Homayoun Khosravi. I wonder if my friend, Sabereh Kashi, made this video. It's beautiful music and a beautiful dance by a beautiful dancer. Enjoy!

I hope you guys have a good week ahead of you. I am struggling with some hard things and I hope to be free of a lot that bothers me these days soon. Any good vibes sent my way will be greatly appreciated! Who knows? Maybe when I'm free of all that keeps me bugged down these days, I can tell you some great stories! My pains always turn into good stories with hindsight! For my part and as always, I send each and every one of you waves of love and good wishes. Be good y'all.

The Sun Rises

Nadja, an Iranian dancer in Sweden, performs a dance tribute to Forough Farrokhzad on a song by Jahan based on the poem "The Sun Rises," Aftab Mishavad.

This is one of Forough's most beautiful love poems.  I put a full English translation of that poem by Sholeh Wolpe here last January.  

Seeing this video has had me reading that poem to myself all day.  Here are the first few verses.  You can go here to read the whole beautiful poem in English.  Have a good Tuesday everybody!

Look how sorrow in my eyes

melts to water drop by drop,

how my rebellious shadow falls

captive to the sun.

Look. Sparks ignite me,

flames engulf me,

carry me high,

trap me in the sky.

Look how my universe

now streams with shooting stars.

Waiting For My Friends

Happy Saturday!  I'm running around, getting ready to receive dear friends again this weekend.  I love having guests!  Since I insist on cooking for my guests myself, the day before a party is always very hectic for me.  This is also one of the few times in the lifestyle I have these days when I really miss having help with throwing parties.  The best kind of help to have for a party is not domestic help, in my opinion.  It is a partner who likes to entertain as much as you do, sharing the enjoyment of preparing for and delivering a successful party.  Absent that, I do my best by myself!  Say, I want to show you a video clip I found last night.  Turn up your speakers and watch this:   "There" is a contemporary choreography infused with Asian dance movements.  It was developed from Chinese, Korean, Mongolian, Persian, and Armenian dance elements.  The piece was choreographed by Wan-Chao Chang for Ballet Afsaneh in 2008. Dancers are Miriam Peretz, Hannah Romanowsky, Kris Sague, and Wan-Chao Chang herself. It's based on "Form 3", a piece of music by Greg Ellis from "Kala Rupa." This dance piece was presented in Ballet Afsaneh's home season show, Safar-e Bienteha, Eternal Journey , on July 2008 in San Jose, California.    It's simple and yet sophisticated, beautiful to follow and a joy to watch.  This is awesome!  I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.  Have a good day!

Coming Home

Qajar dance "Golestan-e Pars" depicts lady friends gathered together in a Qajar garden in Shiraz of over 100 years ago moving to correct and pure classical Persian music performed by Katherine St. John's Eastern Arts from WorlDance. (The first minute or so appear dull because the dance takes place behind a filmy curtain. The image improves drastically once the curtain is lifted.)

I know I have been very bad recently! If someone had told me just a few months ago that someday I would be skipping my daily posts and neglecting my blog comments, I would have never believed him! But my life has become so complicated all of a sudden! I have been working on some piled up commitments which I had neglected due to my trip and a weekend which was filled with activity and left me breathless. I have also had guests visiting from other parts of the world, which has been great but distracting me from my routine. Anyhow, this is just to let you all know that I'm well and kicking, and that I miss you all very much. Thank you everybody who worried about my disappearance! Heeh! It's good to be missed. If I can, I will write another post tonight because I have some pictures I want to share with you. I keep flicking that camera with all the different visiting guests and friends as my subjects, and I seldom use those photographs which is a shame (no, I won't give them to others to post everywhere, either, so don't ask!). I will go to the airport tonight after work to pick up another dear guest, this one my dear cousin, Mahtab, about whom I had written not too long ago. I can't wait to see her. I will write again tonight. Be good you all and have a good Thursday evening.

Moving Forward

Banafsheh Sayyad performs her Sufi-inspired dance in Los Angeles in May 2008. Enjoy! (I wished the audience hadn't made so much noise during her performance, but that's just my opinion.)

It's Friday. My week has been a mixed bag of joys and reflections. I have been thinking positive thoughts which have prompted me to move forward, and I have been moving forward, prompting myself to think positive thoughts.

I'm preparing to take a trip next week, so I have been running around trying to tie some loose ends so that when I am away, I don't have to worry about things back home--well, except what my kids will be doing to my house in my absence!

When I wake up tomorrow, I will type a list I wrote in my head today. It is a list of all the little and big things which made my life good this past week. I will write them down and share them with you. Once I write it, it would be fun to see your lists, too, if you'd like to share. I'll do it tomorrow morning, as I'm really exhausted now and I won't do the task justice. Have a great weekend everyone and don't forget to use your mouth to say good things, kiss big kisses, and laugh out loud. Be good y'all.

Enjoy The Dance

Sahar of Afsaneh Ballet Company performs a Khorasani dance at Persian Pride Celebrations in Los Gatos, California, April 2008. Beautiful and uplifting. I am keeping quiet tonight, thinking about some things and going to bed early so that I can attend another day-long session sitting in a darkened room, listening to a monologue tomorrow. Yikes! Let's not think about awful things. Let's enjoy this music and this dance. Life is too short. Have a wonderful Wednesday everybody!

Catching a Train to Joy

Beshkan Dance Academy Performs "Vision of Persia" at Celebration of Dance 2007.

It's Friday. It is a special Friday for me, because I'm taking my second trip to Southern California this week in a few minutes. This trip is not for business, but for the pleasure of meeting friends and my nieces and nephew and attending the inaugural meeting of a writers' association, a cause near and dear to my heart. I am really excited!

My younger son gave me a ride into Berkeley this morning. That was pretty cool, my very first ride from him! He and I talked about different subjects on the way, laughing a little, too. Maybe it was my imagination, but I thought he was pleased to be giving me a ride.

In a few minutes I will have to catch a train to the airport. Before I go, I would like to wish you all a happy weekend, filled with relaxation and joy of proximity to those you love and causes you pursue. Embrace things you love and care about with gusto and high energy. Considering the various adversities of life, when we face positive things around us we really should jump in and make a big deal out of them while they last! I am going to be doing that this weekend in San Diego. I will try and not worry about my sons, who will probably be celebrating their own joys in a house empty of their ever-present mother! I will write again from San Diego. Have a good weekend y'all!

A Very Good Friday

Folk dance of Azerbaijan (Lezgi). These dancers might be from Georgia (Gorjestan).

It's Good Friday, the Friday before Easter, spring has begun, and Nowrooz is here. It can't get any better than this. I sat out a Nowrooz celebration in San Francisco, as I recover from too much celebration this week! I decided instead to come home, cook for my family, write my Friday post, and tend to some activities I must finish before Sunday.

The boys and their friends have just returned from a basketball game and work and will probably be getting ready to go out a little later. I hear them laughing and talking in the other room. There is something very soothing in hearing the young men have such a good time together in this house. Come September, my older son will probably move to another college town to attend university, and things won't be the same again in this house. I intend to enjoy every moment of the remaining months around them. Some day I might tell you the story of me and my children and houses, houses, and houses. Telling that story requires some courage which I have yet to find. Some day I might tell it.

And so, of all times of the year, this is the easiest and hardest time to dispense advice to you all about relationships and love for those who are important in your lives. It is easy, because for most of you those you love are right next to you during the celebrations, or you would be visiting them. It is hard, because some of you don't have your loved ones near you. Holidays and traditional celebrations are really hard for those who live away from their families, and I say that from peronal experience. So, I think we should all reach out to those near us right now, whoever they are and however they are important and related to us. Friends, relatives, lovers, and neighbors, there are people around us who could really appreciate a hug, a handshake, a smile, a kiss, or a hug. Whatever you do, mean it. Do it from the bottom of your heart with optimism and peace in mind. Call those who are away and in addition to wishing them a happy Nowrooz, also tell them that you love them and mean it. Do it with the conviction of someone who has started a New Day, a Now Rooz. Have a good weekend y'all.

Getting Out!

Zamaneh has published the Farsi translation of the Afshin Mofid story. You can read Part I here, and Part II here.

Feeling somewhat better, I'm off to work this morning. I'm so tired of staying inside and feeling crummy! Hopefully I will last the day at work. After work I will go to visit my oldest sister who is visiting us in the area. I have missed her very much. Fourteen years older than me, she has always been more than just a sister to me. She has alternatively been my second mother, my teacher, my friend, and my confidant in life. It makes me smile to remember that she knew about my first love, and helped me cry my eyes out and talk about my second, and to this day, she listens and commiserates about all the messes I get myself into! Being the "black sheep" of my family, it has been a relief for me to be able to count on her continual support and understanding! So, if I feel better, I will be on my way to feel even better by visiting her! Now, that's something really good to look forward to today. I'll come back and write a proper post later this evening. Be good you all.

The Lost Legend

Afshin Mofid with Darci Kistler in New York City Ballet's Afternoon of a Faun, 1982.

Three thousand people watched the New York City Ballet performance every night, a performance which invariably ended in standing ovations and a crowd that simply did not want to leave the packed New York State Theater. The promising young ballet dancer took his bows, with each bow intensifying the crowd’s applause and noises of approval and adoration, singling him out as “The Star” of the show.

He was born to a family of artists, poets and writers in 1961. Afshin Mofid was one of two children born to the legendary Bijan Mofid and his wife, Farideh Fardjam, the first female Iranian playwright, prize-winning author, poet, and director. He started ballet training in Tehran when he was nine years old, moving to New York to attend School of American Ballet, becoming the star of New York City Ballet under George Balanchine’s training and direction, and appearing as the star of the New York City Ballet on numerous occasions, nightly packing adoring crowds in the New York State Theater.

While his career and his sensitive and powerful performances in New York City Ballet’s productions were copiously covered in The New York Times and trade publications of note, we never knew about him. It is now time to know about the multi-dimensional and fascinating life of a man with not just one, but hundreds of stories to tell of himself and his accomplished and interesting life.

Afshin Mofid is one of the warmest, most down-to-earth people you would know. He speaks a perfect Farsi, devoid of English words, is affable, articulate, and very funny. He speaks honestly about his achievements, his decisions, his family, his good times and his bad.

"I was nine when I started Ballet in Tehran. I had never seen ballet before in my life. My uncle, Ardavan Mofid, was friends with Bijan Kalantari, who was a ballet dancer and a choreographer himself, and wanted to start the first Iranian ballet company from ground up, entirely with Iranian dancers, hoping to be able to perform internationally. Of the 14 students in the newly founded ballet program at Tehran's Music Conservatory (Honarestan-e-Ali-e-Moosighi), there were 12 girls and only two boys. I was one of them."

This story was published in Iranian.com today. If you can't access it in Iranian.com, you can read the rest here. Please leave any comments you might have primarily in Iranian.com for the artist to see, or here. Enjoy!

The Boy Who Loved The Mountains

A handmade post card he sent to his mother in Europe.

He started attending the Conservatory (Honarestan-e-Ali-Moosighi) with his uncle and his aunt who went on to become a famous stage actor and director.

Living with his grandparents, his paternal grandfather, a teacher, an actor, the innovator and director of Shahnameh plays (Teatr-e-hemasi), an expert in Shahnameh recitation (Naghali), a calligrapher, and an avid sportsman and hunter, became his role model. His best times were spent hiking and hunting with his grandfather. When he was advised to stay away from football, hiking, and any physical activities which might lead to injuries threatening his ballet career, he was resentful, telling his father that he wished to quit ballet school, and each year at his father’s urging and insistence, he would go back to a higher class at the Conservatory.

Reaching for Stars

In 1977 when he was only 16, on Bijan Kalantari’s urging, his father sent him to New York to attend school and to learn ballet on an international level. Staying with Bijan Kalantari for the first several months, he was attending high school during the day and open ballet classes in the afternoons. He talks about his early years in New York with sweet sadness. With Iran on the brink of a revolution, his small scholarship covering only a cockroach-infested small room in New York City with salsa-playing Peurto Rican neighbors, he was homesick for Iran and for his family.

He auditioned for School of American Ballet in 1978 and was admitted. The prestigious ballet school founded by George Balanchine, the neo-classical ballet legend and Lincoln Kirstein, the New York cultural giant, was the academy established to train and recruit ballet dancers for New York City Ballet.

Finding Him

I searched high and low for him. I could find some small references to his name in New York City Ballet rosters and dated ballet reviews in The New York Times, but there were no pictures of him, and the few leads I found about his whereabouts were dead ends. I searched his famous father one time, and found the name of a woman writer and translator who was his artistic associate in the US. I contacted Jahanshah and asked him if he knew this woman and where I could reach her. He said she lives in Austin, Texas, and forwarded her email address to me. I contacted her, telling her that I was looking for this ballet dancer and whether she could help me find him. The wonderful woman immediately wrote back, giving me his email address. I had to sit down and think about what to do with it now! Several days later, I found the courage to write to him, introducing myself, and telling him about my association with his grandmother and my search for him. He wrote back soon:

Dear Nazy,

No need to apologize for wanting to write about me. I am flattered! I mean, who wouldn't like someone tracking them down and wanting to write about them?!! Maybe I could be famous for another 15 minutes after your article! But seriously, I don't mind it at all. My career as a dancer in New York was at its peak during the early years of the Revolution and consequently not a lot of Iranian immigrants in this country were in a position to even care about such things as ballet or the fine arts in general. So I have been unknown to most. This has always been a sore point for me (but without blaming anyone and understanding the time frame), because even though I received praises from the audiences here and had articles written about me from Newsweek to the Times, there has not been any mention of my work anywhere in the Iranian media be it Farsi or English and no recognition form my own people. So I welcome and appreciate you for wanting to do this. How interesting that you were my beloved grandparents' neighbor! I miss them very much. Was this at the apartment in Vanak? Anyway. You can get in touch with me either by mail or call me on my cell phone or at home.

In My Pink Sweater

Nasim Arbabi plays the Kamancheh at Fajr Music Festival, December 2007.

It's Friday. So, I hope I didn't worry you too much with my "spicy" story! Judging from your kind comments and the sweet emails sent my way today, it looks like I might have! I'm good as new and back to the business of life! What did I tell you? True, a part of me still aches for something that was important to me, and will need a bit of time yet to develop its spice (!), but on we go.

I was all set to roll out my story beginning tonight, finishing my posts by Sunday, and publishing it on Monday. Some small things have been delayed, and alas I can't do it this weekend. I'm so sorry for disappointing you. You see, there were no pictures nor videoclips of this dancer's amazing works. We have had to scan photos, apply for copyright permissions and VHS to DVD conversions, and now that I have the DVD, I can't upload the clips, because it hasn't been saved in tracks, and I don't have film editing software (yes, he and I have had to do all of that by ourselves--I told you, we are "uncovering" a gem!). While I run around, enlisting assistance to get it done, we will have to wait. Sorry. I usually try to keep my promises, but I was unsuccessful this time.

I know this will not make up for it at all, but I want to share a videoclip of Nava Aharoni, an Israeli dancer (I believe she is of Iranian descent), who dances a Persian dance. It is called Miniature, and in it she depicts Persian Miniatures in different poses. Watch it on YouTube here and if you can't access YouTube, watch it here. It is interesting in that it is choreographed a little differently. Take a look.

All of their own accord, my children fed me dinner tonight, made me tea, washed the dishes, took out the garbage, and were super affectionate to me. Honestly, I don't know where that surge of affection came from! I even got compliments on my pink sweater and a few kisses on the head, most unusual! I think it is a very good day when some unsolicited and unexpected kindnesses come our way. This weekend, you might wish to try it, too. Make dinner for your parents and kiss them whichever way feels good to you and to them! Treat the kids around you to unexpected ice cream and kisses, too! Wash a loved one's car of the grime of recent rain and snow. Be random and be unexpected, but do show your love to a few this weekend. I am sitting here in my pink sweater, smiling and typing, feeling super special! So rest assured, it works! Have a good weekend and be good y'all.

The Beautiful Old Lady Next Door

The beautiful old lady told me in Tehran: "Nazy Khanoom. I have a grandson who is a ballet dancer.....in New York." She reached behind her chair and from tens of pictures of several members of her family performing onstage, picked up a black and white picture and handed it to me. My eyes rested on a handsome young man in great form in ballet attire. There was something really amazing about the young man's eyes. He was looking directly at the camera, with a sense of purpose, with great poise, and with haunting eyes.

Among the thousands of memories I have kept in my head and in my heart, that day, that little chat over tea, that lovely old lady's face filled with pride, and the picture of that young dancer, found a spot and became lodged. It was another 14 years before I pulled that memory out of my head and got started looking for the dancer. I looked and I searched, and I couldn't find him. But the memory wouldn't let me forget him. I wanted to find him. I wanted to talk to him. I wanted to know why he was lost to the rest of us. I wanted to know why he wouldn't make an effort to be found. I wanted to know about him and feel proud, for he was not only that young man in the picture, he was the one looking at whose picture had brought a huge tear drop of sadness and pride to the old lady's eyes. I wanted to find him and tell him that. I searched and searched until I found him. He now wanted to be found. I told him my story. He told me his.

The Story We Never Heard

He says: "I was 9 when I started Ballet in Tehran. I had never seen ballet before in my life. My uncle was friends with Bijan Kalantari, who was a ballet dancer and a choreographer himself, and wanted to start the first Iranian ballet company from ground up, entirely with Iranian dancers, hoping to be able to perform internationally. Of the 14 students in the newly founded ballet program at Tehran's Music Conervatory (Honarestan-e-Ali-e-Moosighi), there were 12 girls and only two boys. I was one of them."

Seldom in my life have I felt such passion about a story, whether I have heard it, or I have told it myself. I am getting ready to tell you the story of a fascinating man. I have never met him. On the phone, he has one of the kindest, most honest, most confident voices I have ever heard. His winning charm is in his story, true, but there is something so Iranian about him, so belonging to the land I love. Brace yourselves. Soon you will see a gem uncovered, and I should hope that you know me modest enough to believe me when I tell you that the beauty of this story is only in the person who is at the center of it, nothing to do with the storyteller. I will just tell you the story. Give me a week. Be good y'all.

Heather Rastovac in Berkeley

I had lunch with my remarkable American friend, Heather Rastovac in Berkeley today. I had written something short about Heather in June. She is a dance artist and a researcher of Iranian arts. She is currently a student at the University of Washington pursuing a double major in Near Eastern Language and Civilization (with a focus on Persian language and literature) and Cultural Anthropology, and a minor in dance. She speaks a very sweet Farsi, and seeing her interest in Iranian arts and culture is so heartwarming to me, making me so proud.

As a performer of Iranian dances and through her involvement with Iranian diaspora communities in Seattle and San Francisco, Heather has gained insight into the complex and ambiguous position of performers in Iranian society. While among the Iranian community, she also began to learn about Iran’s cultural heritage and Persian literary traditions, and grew fascinated by the strong role mystical poetry plays in every day Persian dialogue. In her studies at the University of Washington, she has fully engaged herself in Persian language, literature and cultural studies. She is currently excelling in advanced Persian language courses and has taken a variety of classes in Persian classical and contemporary literature, Islamic mystical literature, Near Eastern folklore and History of Islamic Civilization.

In addition to her obvious talent as a performing artist, Heather is one of the wisest and kindest people I have ever known. I never get tired of talking with her and affectionately call her an "Honarary Iranian!" You can access Heather's weblogs here and here. You can also see her perform Persian dances here, here, and here (if you can't access YouTube in Iran, try these links: here, here, and here). I wish Heather success and joy in her professional and personal life, as she truly deserves the best.

I end this Friday post by wishing you all a very relaxing and joyful weekend. As the world celebrates the New Year and Iranian moslems celebrate Eid-e-Qadir-e-Khom, I wish you all a good time next to your family and friends, filled with love and understanding. Go visit your elders, pay attention to the young people around you, and confess your love to those who matter most in this world, the people who would lift your spirits when you are down, and who would support you through harder times in life. Celebrate life as it is meant to be celebrated, with love, passion, and compassion. Be good y'all.

Whispers and Shouts of Love

Ballet Afsaneh perform a magnificient production of Persian Dance at San Francisco's City Hall in Nowrooz 2007. Music is by Mr. Mohammad Nejad. I searched everywhere and found multiple copies of this performance, but they all had very poor quality as compared to this one, which has three other pieces following it. I am recommending section 1, but you are welcome to watch all 4! Please watch all 7:32 minutes of the first section, as it is simply awesome!

It's Friday. I'm finally home, having put a crazy busy week behind. My job is getting more exciting and demanding everyday, and it seemed that something was happening on the social, academic, and cultural front everyday of this week. I'm exhausted and feel great to be home and relaxing a little. I'm going to catch up on my emails and visit my friends' blogs and just hang out. I will have to take a two-day trip to attend a training class in Sacramento early next week and right now, nothing feels as good as my home, filled with the sounds of another basketball game, which has my older son glued to the set on a Friday night.

I wish you all a weekend filled with joy and peace. Relax, eat and drink whatever pleases you, build a fire if you can, and gather with those who are dear and important to you. Sayeh says she talks with her mother about having never learned to express her love, that her mother never "taught her how." I don't believe that. She has been giving messages of love and understanding to many for many years as a blogger. Her way of expressing herself may be just a little different from others. This weekend, say it whichever way you can, however many times you want, and to as many people as you wish. Say "I love you," and "I miss you," and "I wished you were here." Whisper it, type it, say it, and if you feel the need, shout it! Say it and listen to what you hear with all your heart. You will hear the whispers and the words and the shouts of love and affection right back. My humble experience guarantees it.