Today we’d like to introduce you to Kamran Raqs.
Hi Kamran, it’s an honor to have you on the platform. Thanks for taking the time to share your story with us – to start maybe you can share some of your backstory with our readers?
I grew up in family of creatives and performers in Chicago- my father and my aunt are established musicians there and still perform- my dad is a lead singer and keyboard player in a number of oldies and yacht-rock bands, they play restaurants and various convention centers and festivals. My aunt is a cabaret singer, folk singer, and actress with an addiction to adventure- she and my uncle sailed the Nile, canoed the Yukon, trekked bike camping across the midwest, and scuba-dove most of the Caribbean and Hawaiian Islands together. Meanwhile, in my early life, my mother worked in architecture and design, but boasted degrees in language and history. She set the standard in my home that my younger brother and I learn a second language- I chose Spanish, my brother German, and she replied to us in Italian and French.
When I began attending school, the curriculum included a vibrant cultural-education program, which took several days each year to highlight a country from which a part of our student body came- we celebrated Mexico, Africa, Assyria, China, you name it. I was truly thrilled to learn all the different ways my friends said “Hello!” or what their loving parents crafted with their hands to eat just as their parents did before them, or how some families have grampas, grandmas, cousins, uncles, and aunts ALL LIVING TOGETHER- how fun that must be! I would go on to join the band and the choir, and worked my way up to drum major by my senior year of high school. By highschool graduation, I had performed in over 25 theatrical productions, learned three new instruments, began writing vocal arrangements for A Capella groups, and even had the privilege of performing in my choir with Paramore at the UIC pavilion. If you’re not absolutely addicting to performing after a show like THAT, I don’t know what to tell ya, man!
Between the amazing fine arts and language programs in my local school, and my proximity to downtown Chicago, I began working downtown for my father’s Carpet Cleaning/Janitorial service as a teenager, and began working in the Merchandise Mart. There, I met EVEN more international business people, who I got to know through cleaning their offices and serving them coffee. By the time I was beginning my twenties I had gone through several jobs: working in an Italian Bistro, a Japanese BBQ, a Roman Pizzeria, a Pet Store, dog walking, and working for my church for events, holidays, and for the Children’s programming- the Church was a big one, they allowed me to continue to exercise my performance skills while being compensated, a true blessing.
Near my Church, I applied to be a Host at a local Arabic/Andalusian venue- Alhambra Palace. I was amazed at the Spanish architecture, the richness of the culture, and of course how TASTY Mediterranean food is. I had also heard about the Live Mid-Eastern / Cirque show that started every Friday and Saturday night at 10:00 and midnight, and was eager to be a part of Chicago nightlife, amongst the hustle and bustle of the international guests, the royal smells of the Oud and Frankincense perfumes, the rush of cars rushing by the open bay windows with the occasional waft of smoke and a slam of a car door would raise your eyebrow as you wondered which big-wig was next to walk the red carpet at the entrance. I had a chance to meet the mayor, secretary of state, you name it, what a blast!
But a few weeks into my time there, I found myself watching the show and creeping my stand closer and closer to the ballroom, to better view the stage and clap and cheer for the bellydancers, who looked like magical mermaid princesses to me at the time. Opposite the ladies, it was thrilling to watch the male dancers line-dance the Levantine Dabke or battle each-other with bamboo canes during the Egyptian Saidi Tahteeb. Interspersed with these acts was a Flamenco act, a Samba group, and impressive fire eaters, contortionists, burlesque performers, and aerialists who soared above the three-story ballroom and stage on silks. Finally, during the part of the show where the bellydancer roams the room and asks people to dance with her, she picked ME… I confess that I had waited for this moment to show the dancers I was learning the steps to their routines off in the corner every weekend, so, I let er rip and gave it my best. “Are you Persian? Are you Lebanese? Palestinian?” asked the troupe leader- a beautiful petite woman with a powerful gaze and perfect physique from Peru -she was the Flamenco star as well, I was a bit starstruck… “Nope!” I replied “I just REALLY love this stuff, I’ve been practicing these moves alone in my mirror for a long time watching stars like Shakira, famous modern bellydancers like Sadie, Sashdi, Lebanese Simon, Tito Seif, as well as the greats from Cairo’s hey day: Samia Gamal, the Reda troupe, Taheya Carioca… and-
“WOW! chimed in the dancer- she introduced herself as Marisela, then said to me in Spanish “If you can learn the routine in two weeks, you’re in, my friend!” “CLAARO, me VOY!” I said proudly back to her, “Here I GO!” I spent that summer in working my way from the host stand up to Payroll and Entertainment manager during the day whilst attending rehearsals in the evenings, caring for the ballroom to recover from last weekends parties in the afternoons, and DANCED the night away every weekend. I began studying more of Mediterranean culture, and slowly I’ve begun picking up more Arabic and solidifying my fluency in Español Castellano- Castilian Spanish. I learned about the Roma and the Calo; how they were enslaved in various civilizations throughout history, but kept dances like Flamenco alive, and how they evolved from classical dances in India, where the Romani originated from. I’ll also forever cherish Chicago’s Levantine/Arabic community for welcoming me as I began my journey learning Dabke and the similar dances found there. Many fearful ignorant people would try to warn me that because I was white- and gay- that I wouldn’t ever be accepted by this traditional community. Boy, were they wrong! The dance community- especially the Bellydance / Mid-Eastern community- has got to be the most welcoming place to be, by far! We’re all all different shapes and sizes, from all sorts of places, in all walks of life. It has not always been easy being a male dancer and performer, but I like to say that each career has its hard, “no-fun” parts. However, it’s truly worth it to be able to share my talent and feel the joy from the audience and make someone’s special day THAT MUCH MORE memorable, or perhaps remind them of their childhood back home, while showing them the legacy that they leave here in America.
Would you say it’s been a smooth road, and if not what are some of the biggest challenges you’ve faced along the way?
No, not at all. To begin with, most professional bellydancers will tell you that they constantly have to remind those who lack the cultural awareness that we aren’t just strippers or go-go dancers, and that we train RIGHT. NEXT. to ballet dancers, jazz dancers, you name it! We talk to our class in dance terms as well (first and second positions, port-de-bras, tendu, battement, plié, etc.). On top of this, I’m commonly the “only guy” in a room full of female dancers. I’m totally okay with that, I was raised properly to support and be a gentleman towards women, but some will cast a sideways glance and call me a “she” or call me typical gay slurs, even mid-performance at restaurants. I’ve had people throw lighters and coins at me, I’ve had people cuss at me and tell me to get away from their table, I’ve had people hand me money with hummus smeared on it while I’m dancing, I’ve been turned down from many an opportunity because a venue owner doesn’t want a male bellydancer (even while advertising that they are having a Pride event in June, for example- they still will only hire women for that gig). On the worst days, it feels really defeating. Heck yea, it makes me really ANGRY sometimes. But, just as any other performer will tell you, the show must go on, you can NEVER take no for an answer, and if you REALLY are obsessed enough, you’ll never give up.
Additionally, some degrade this art form and the dancer performing it by claiming the dance is PURELY adult in nature (to echo what I said previously) but fail to learn about the rich cultural history behind the dance and that each move, each vibration, each step, has a meaning; a country of origin… it’s own story…
Thanks – so what else should our readers know about your work and what you’re currently focused on?
I’m a singer, actor, dancer, and all-around-maker who specializes in Middle Eastern and World Dance.
When it comes to singing, I’m known for Live Looping- when you perform solo with a loop pedal. The artist makes sound into the device, which plays it back over and over, allowing the artist to create a sort of choir out of themselves with different layers of instruments, beat-boxing, vocal percussion, and background elements. While its a unique way to perform, it comes with it’s challenges- I have to sing ALL the parts, so my voice gets rode hard and put away wet- I definitely have come home unable to speak some nights. It also poses a challenge for rehearsing- overdoing that can blow your voice too! And lets be honest- I have two kids at home- there is no way I’ll be able to be silent the rest of the time! However, I’ve been spending more and more time with my guitar and other instruments, and I’m eager to share the newer songs in my repertoire!
BUUUT as you know, I love any chance to shake it and bring the life to a wedding or party! What sets ME apart from the rest of the bellydance world? I’ll put it to you this way- I joke with my partner if there was a Field of Study out there called. “Dance-thropology,” I would major in that in a heartbeat. If you observe my dance style, you’ll clearly see a foundation in classical Mid-Eastern and Mediterranean dances at the root of my performance- each type of rhythm from the Tabla (goblet drum) in my opinion has a corresponding set of moves. Of course, as time goes on cultures blend and elements are shared across borders and tongues- in this way, you can observe my Earthy, grounded, foundational movements of Egyptian Bellydance – known as Raqs Sharqi- carefully woven with elements of Turkish “Oryental” style- theatrical arm and head movements. You’ll enjoy the contrast of the twisting action of Tunisian style dance shaken in a cocktail with spicy undulations and abdominal ripples typical of Greek or Lebanese dancers. Finally, I share my heart for the Romani people with elements they carried along the Silk road- hand gestures called Mudras and similar movements with roots in India that tell the stories of their everyday hardships and struggles on their way through Europe and North Africa, the passionate slaps, claps, and stomps of Flamenco they used to let go of their frustration, heartbreak, and weariness instead of fighting- a lesson we can all learn.
I also am proud to perform in authentic, hand-made costumes. Several traditional folk costumes are from Egypt or Jordan/The Holy Land and were made overseas by citizens of that country or members of the diaspora in the US. The rest are sewn by yours truly- another skill I picked up in the theatre. Given that there are so few male bellydancers out there, off-the-rack options are virtually non-existent, and custom costumes made by someone else aren’t always affordable, nor do they always come out how you expected. Having been frustrated one too many times by some less-than-professional costumers who didn’t have any experience sewing for men, I took to my mothers sewing machine and with the gift of my first bolts of fabric from my amazing partner, I was able to create my first costume. Once I began to make garments that were JUST FOR ME, I was hired more and more, and BOY does it feel empowering to know you an fix your clothes and even make your own if you have to!
Do you any memories from childhood that you can share with us?
It would have to be Christmastime when I was probably six or seven years old, my younger brother would’ve been 4 or 5. We alternated hosting each holiday between my Aunt/Uncles place and our own, this time it was at Aunt and Uncles. The night before, while my parents hid in the basement and wrapped our presents, my younger brother and I helped my aunt bake Christmas cookies and helped Uncle Don decorate the house. By Christmas dinner the following evening, Auntie’s house was filled with sparkling tinsel draped from every possible place, a tree decorated with ornaments from all of her world travels and our previous vacations perches on a tall end table in the corner of the room, across from a crackling fireplace, surrounded by pinecones, reindeer, and nutcrackers. Each flat surface has been endowed with a figurine or a candle, and a mandatory dish of roasted nuts or candies. Each grown up had their own place around the living room, with my Grandma’s lounging in the best spots on the couch, with my father tending to them- the easiest places to get up from were reserved for my Grandfather and Uncle, who sat in chairs dragged in from the dining-room, padded with cushions. The ladies of the house sat in the lazy-boys across from the gentleman, each with a glass of champagne set up on their knees while they crossed their legs, to show the rest of the family this year’s Christmas outfits. The hi-fi speakers stream old fashioned, crackly, classical operatic Christmas carols, over which my brother and I sang along while playing with our newly opened gifts in the middle of the floor. Smells of Honey-Ham baking away in the oven waft in from the kitchen, and mix with the smell of the fire. As you go to the kitchen to refill your hot-chocolate, you hear the whir of the electric mixer as Auntie mashes the potatoes and your mouth begins to water as she seasons it with plenty of garlic, celery salt, and pepper. Someone else clicks away as they whisk the gravy on the stove, and a loud sizzle cuts through all of it as my father pours the juices fat from a pan into the batter that would become Yorkshire Putting. Auntie’s orange and white cats, Salty and Tigger, race in from the other room, ears and tails high, eager to catch a spilled morsel before slinking into the living room to rub against each leg and greet each grown up before choosing a spot to nap by the fire. Every soul in the house was content, their favorite drink and snack in hand, with each member of my small family was in arm reach of eachother. The warmth of our Christmas dinners were unforgettable, full of song and dance, stories from that year, and plans for the next year- where should we take a trip next? What did we want to accomplish next year? What had we learned in school so far? After a dessert of coffee and Yule Log Cake, my brother and I would doze off amongst a pile of wrapping paper on the floor, to be carried home over my dad’s shoulders in the wee hours of the morning.
Contact Info:
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/kamrandance/
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/kamranraqs
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@kamrandance
