Precious Lessons I learned from Mahmoud Reda, the Father of Egyptian Folklore
My path, in life as in dance, hasn´t always been easy but it has been rich, filled with evolution, joy, accomplishments, pleasure, and blessings.
One of the biggest gifts I received was Mahmoud Reda´s friendship, teachings, and support.
Mahmoud Reda
If you love Egyptian Dance and you don´t know Mahmoud Reda and/or The Reda Troupe, you have to change it. Educate yourself, starting HERE and HERE.
When I moved to Egypt and launched my first shows with an entire - handpicked, unruly, and passionate - orchestra, I knew I had to expand my horizons and include Egyptian Folklore "tableaus" (dance sets) in my programs.
I like to head straight to the Head of the Dragon so, I didn´t lose time with the minor fish - I visited the Master of Egyptian Folklore and asked him to teach me everything he knew. And so he did.
More than just sharing his knowledge and experience with me, Mahmoud became my biggest supporter, friend, grandfather, mentor. With time, I became his Choreography and Teaching assistant and that, too, offered me a privileged insight into the crafts of dance, choreography, pedagogy, and life.
I rehearsed with my orchestra, or alone, at Mahmoud´s studio at the"K´asr el Nile" street in downtown Cairo; I worked with him, in my shows, in his choreographies, in videos; we´d sit and listen to old Egyptian songs or watch Gene Kelly on the television; we´d talk about everything.
He´d offer me a lift home and we´d make "singing contests" on our way there - he loved to hear me sing Portuguese "Fados" and Jazz classics. And I loved singing them for him.
With Mahmoud, I discovered layers of Egyptian Dance, History, and Culture I never dreamt about; with him, I traveled abroad, for the first time, to teach, perform, and lecture; from him, I received the priceless gift of self-confidence. He reminded me, again and again, of my value as an artist and a woman. In more than one way, he parented me and made sure, without ever forcing it upon me, I´d pass his legacy on to the future generations.
Chatting with Mahmoud, in Brighton,
UK, during a pause of the workshops we taught together
One day, I´ll write an entire book on my relationship with Mahmoud, what it taught me about Dance and Life but, now, here are a few of the most precious lessons I´ve learned from this beautiful man.
1. LOVE THE CRAFT, NOT THE FAME
Mahmoud is a living example of an artist and a teacher who always focused on CREATING, not in the accolades his creativity would bring.
I witnessed his infinite love for the Dance, daily. His mind was always in the music, the dance, the message, the next creative project, the legacy he´d leave behind.
2. DISCIPLINE IS AN ESSENTIAL PART OF CREATIVITY
We´re sold the idea that Artists come up with genius work without effort. The Muses visit them, we´re told. What Mahmoud taught me, a lesson I´d been given from an early age but was quick to forget, is that we have to work continuously, show up, do the "dirty, boring, unglamorous tasks" to invite the Muses in. Discipline, perseverance, and plain-simple-wrap-up-your-sleeves-and-bloody-do-it work go a long way. Talent and passion aren´t enough.
As Pablo Picasso said, "Inspiration exists, but it has to find you working".
Well into his 80´s, Mahmoud had a work schedule he followed religiously. He´d work hours in his studio, teaching or choreographing, and a few more hours in the editing room dealing with music and video.
No task was small, for him. Working on a dance step was as important as showing up for a big event; whatever he was doing, he did it with diligence, responsibility, and respect for his craft(s).
3. AGE IS NOT AN EXCUSE
At 83, Mahmoud was the most curious, productive, passionate creator I´ve ever met. When I talked with him, or accompanied him in his choreography/teaching commitments, it felt like I was working with a 20-year-old, not a 80-plus man.
He took care of himself, ate, and rested; he also knew dance kept him alive.
Furthermore, he refused to be defined by his age or use his physical limitations - his knee was a nuisance, his hips hurt once in a while - as an excuse for being, doing, or daring less.
Observing him in action was a lesson in LONGEVITY, one I´ll never forget.
4. WE´RE ETERNAL STUDENTS
The Master himself was a student. He knew it and embraced it with pride.
He´d sit with a cup of unsweetened Egyptian tea and watch me choreograph my own pieces or rehearse with my orchestra; he´d ask for my opinions/ideas/insights whenever he was creating a new dance piece; he´d promptly open himself to learning new skills, whenever necessary.
He studied Tango, Video and Music Editing. Computers. Writing. Anything new and exciting.
"Just because you don´t know it, it doesn´t mean you cannot learn it" - he´d remind me, whenever I acted impatient towards a challenging task. Slowly but surely, you´ll get there if you put your mind and heart in it.
5. REPLACE COMPLAINING BY CREATION
The business of Egyptian Dance can be ruthless, particularly in Cairo. There´s gossip, backstabbing, corruption, evilness, a staggering lack of honesty, darkness beyond our wildest imagination.
I often complained about the pimps, the sexual predators, the dancers and managers who tried to eliminate competition - aka "yours truly" - through low-level strategies that´d make your hair stand up.
Mahmoud would nod, agreed "the life of a dancer can be tough" and send me straight to the dance studio. His answer to my complaints was the answer of a professional artist: work.
-Let´s dance, shall we? - He´d propose.
-Did he not hear what I just told him? I´m enraged with (...) - I´d think, in silence.
I got the message, at some point: there´ll always be evil and good people; problems, obstacles, the dark side of beautiful things, places, and creatures. Above all that, there´s the JOB OF A CREATOR which is CREATING.
The time we spend complaining and thinking about what isn´t right around us could be used to advance our self-knowledge, art, career, life.
In other words, Mahmoud taught me what I´ve been teaching my students - and myself - ever since: focus on YOUR WORK, YOUR DANCE, YOUR LIFE.
Let the snakes pass you by. The more you pay attention to the negative, the more you empower it. The more you focus on the positive, the more it´ll grow.
6. BE A DOER, NOT A CRITIC
In 8 years of friendship, companionship, and daily collaboration, I never heard Mahmoud criticizing other dancers.
He was too busy, focused, in love with Dance, Music, Teaching, Filming, Singing, Life. And so was I.
We spoke about ideas, dreams, feelings, art, and the soul. Never, for a second, we wasted our breath gossiping about other people.
Through his example, I was reminded of the role I want to have in this life: the role of the DOER, the CREATOR, the person who makes great things happen.
Being a critic is easy - destrying what others do is a piece of cake and anybody can do it; now, try creating and sharing it with the world. Not so easy, as you´ll quickly notice.
7. HUMBLENESS AND SELF-CONFIDENCE GO BEAUTIFULLY TOGETHER
Mahmoud is a cultural icon in Egypt and an undeniable reference in the world of Egyptian Dance. Teachers of teachers bow to him; the Egyptian Government has offered him the official recognition no other dancer ever received.
Despite the respect - reverence is the word - the world has thrown upon him, he remains the humblest person I´ve ever known.
When I look back, I can´t recall a single episode of arrogance or the slightest signal of comparison in Mahmoud´s behavior. He never spoke of others as inferiors or superiors - he was neutral, balanced, wise beyond my expectations.
Simultaneously, he knows his worth; Mahmoud Reda is fully aware of his value as a Creator, a Dancer, a Choreographer, a Teacher, a Human Being.
This balance between humbleness and self-confidence is something I´ve always admired in him - as it often happens, he taught it through example.
8. TIME CAN MAKE US BETTER DANCERS/TEACHERS/HUMAN BEINGS
In our long conversations - over lunches, breakfasts, dinners, dance sessions, and travels - Mahmoud told me stories of the past and dreams of the future. He loved to illustrate lessons he wished to teach me with mistakes he´d made in his youth and always made a point of telling me how time can be our friend.
Instead of fearing time, he celebrated it.
He took his time to create - never rushing or wasting it.
He knew time´s a teacher, a healer, a tool for our evolution - in dance, as in life.
He knew time can make us better dancers if we take care of ourselves, if we keep dancing-creating-working, if we remain curious and grounded as children.
I observed Mahmoud and saw him as a work of art shaped by Time itself - he taught me not to fear time but to embrace it as a faithful companion.
9. SIMPLICITY IS THE HIGHEST FORM OF SOPHISTICATION
Mahmoud taught me, once more through example, that art, or life, doesn´t have to be complicated. Furthermore, he showed me that simplicity is the highest form of sophistication.
Making simple things look complicated is the craft of an amateur; making complicated things look simple is the craft of a master. His work was a clear example of the second.
I´ve been trying to simplify, and as a consequence get closer to the core of life, ever since.
10. DOING IS REDOING
In other words, greatness doesn´t come in a spur, once and for all.
Yes, there are particularly inspired moments; yes, there are choreographies, texts, improvisations, paintings, speeches which seem to fall from the sky in its highest form and content, effortlessly.
There are insights we don´t necessarily work for - days when everything seems to flow with ease and confidence.
But, more often than not, CREATING IS DOING AND REDOING. The writer knows the difference between the first draft and the second, the third, the fourth draft; the writer knows that writing is (also) editing, polishing/improving/changing/redoing that first draft. Dancers should know it, too.
I saw Mahmoud do, and redo, dance phrases, movements, entire choreographies without the slightest concern and never putting his talent and expertise in question.
He´d create an entire dance piece and return to his studio, the next day, to question everything. He´d remove, add, twist and turn certain elements - he knew that piece was alive, dynamic, open for changes.
What I see in most dancers, today, is the opposite: they´re in a hurry to become "super stars", whatever that means. No time for doing, much less redoing. That´s the approach of the "amateur" (and not in the good sense of the word = "amateur-the one who loves"), not the professional. That´s the impatience of the applause seeker, not the focus of the artist.
With Mahmoud, I learned the truth: just because I´m talented, skilled, and experienced, it doesn´t mean everything I do will be brilliant; just because I focus and do my work with passion, it doesn´t mean I won´t have to redo it, improve it, change it, eliminate it and start all over again.
Painters, writers, sculptures, every sort of Creator throws much of what they do in the garbage. So should dancers.
We´re works in progress - so is our dance.
11. GENEROSITY
Many teachers believe their students are their competitors and teaching them everything they know is a shot in the foot. They teach a bit of what they know - never too much, never the secrets, never the keys that may unlock their students´potential.
Mahmoud disagreed.
He was the living example of a Teacher who gave everything he had to his students, someone who knew students were carriers of legacy; an artist and a teacher so sure of his uniqueness, so confident in himself, he never feared competition. Therefore, he gave himself, his knowledge, his vision. Fully.
Relax...
Nobody is Mahmoud Reda.
Nobody is Joana Saahirah.
Nobody is YOU.
If you teach, teach with absolute generosity. If, for some reason, you don´t want others to receive your knowledge in its full integrity and amplitude, I have an advice: don´t teach.
Doing an half-ass job because you´re afraid someone will take your place is beneath you. Believe me.
12. LIFE´S HERE TO BE CELEBRATED. AND SO IS DANCE.
We were in Brighton, UK, and it was raining like hell. Or heaven.
That was my first wort trip outside of Egypt and I was honored to teach with Mahmoud and by myself. My contract included:
1. Assisting Mr. Mahmoud Reda in all his workshops
2. Teaching two of my own workshops
3. Performing at the show
I did it all with sheer pleasure.
When I finished my performance and reunited with Mahmoud to return to our hotel, he suggested we´d walk.
-It´s raining, Mahmoud. We must wait for a taxi. - I warned him.
He disagreed. No patience to wait for a taxi. No need for it.
-Rain is good; rain is life. - He said, smiling.
We walked, hand in hand, through the empty, inundated, streets of Brighton and we danced under the rain just like our hero, Gene Kelley, in the Musical "Singing in the Rain".
It was such a simple - wet and dishevelled - walk; so much fun; such a celebration of life (as it is), dance, friendship, the present moment.
From all the lessons Mahmoud taught me, this has always been my favourite.
Someone who can dance, laugh, and celebrate in the rain is unbeatable. I´d say eternal.
And Mahmoud would agree.
Me and Mahmoud teaching in Britghton, UK.
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