Edited Transcription of Interview Ramzi Edlibi Ramzi’s residence. Queens, NY 7.6.2012 Nicole Macotsis I interviewed Ramzi in the his house in Queens, NY, in preparation for a dabkeh festival I was organizing in Fall, 2012, at Alwan for the Arts. I was born in Bahrain, an island in the Arabic...
Below are a few excerpts of the edited transcription of my interview with Ramzi. In telling part of his life history of dabkeh and dance, Ramzi brought up key figures such as Wadea Jarrar, Caracalla, and Moiseyev in the development of dabkeh as the national folkloric dance of Lebanon. He also makes the important distinction between theatrical dabkeh, and traditional social dabkeh, speaking to the characteristics and aesthetics of both.
In addition, Ramzi’s interview touched on the diverse rhythms, cultures and dances of dabkeh, and which all fall under the category of “Dabkeh - to stomp, to make sound.”
Read the full transcript at the link above.
I was born in Bahrain,.. But I grew up in Lebanon, in Beirut. In Lebanon, we’re talking about the sixties or the fifties. TV wasn’t a very popular…media, …it wasn’t around in every house. So, the entertainment was live,… [In] every house there was an oud. My mom was an oud player, my uncle was an oud player, my mom was a singer, she sang and we gathered almost every week in different houses. ...And I kept the beat… or singing… There wasn’t derbekkeh around, but it was like… cooking pot, playing on a plate, anything… very simple. And they always asked me to dance. “Come on, come on, you should dance!” So I did dancing a little bit...
... I auditioned to be a physical education teacher. I got in. In this school, they teach the dabkeh- a class. Who was the teacher? Wadea El Jarrar. Wadea El Jarrar is very famous. She’s the mother of the dabkeh. Everyone is her student. If you’re talking about Halim Caracella, Fadl Abdullah who has now one of the biggest folklore dabkeh groups in Lebanon, and so many. She’s like - Wadea [Emphasis with hands]!...
.. ’83 I came to the US. From ’72-’82, I did strictly dabkeh. I learned probably… 300 choreographies from so many, Abdel Halim Caracalla, Alain Zoghbi, Fadl Abdullah, … so many. And even… very small choreographers, they have no name, nameless, they create the steps here and there. And there’s a standard you have to know in the dabkeh world: the Dance of the Derbekkeh, the Dance of the Mijwiz, which was called Mijwiz Caracella, and three dozens of popular songs back then, like Diggy ya Rababa, Te La We Tetammar Ya Ear, Dugo al Mahabij … there were so many that were standards. So we had to learn these theatrical dabkehs which were not traditional. I have a friend of mine, Yahya Nasrellah, he lives in Michigan. He memorized all these steps. He has a dance company, and he’s still doing those steps. He knows!
I forgot those steps-the theatrical, I kept what I learned from Wadea, and the traditional dabkeh, I kept this, and I don’t do any more the theatrical dabkeh- I could do it, but i have to review it. I prefer the traditional....
Now, I value more the dabkeh. I study classical, at the same time, I value the feel of the dabkeh. I know now more the feel of the dance as the feel, not just jumping around, the feel, the real feel. … I know dancing after all these years...
...I’anni, dabkeh- it’s a name. Dabkeh - to stomp, to make sound. Dabkeh. Some, they say dabkeh, it started [by] fix[ing] the ceiling, so they have this… something like mud, they lay down the mud with the plants, and they stomp on it to make it straight. This is one theory. But to me, it’s older than this- it’s connected with religion, praying. It’s a form of praying. It used to be a form of praying. When Islam came, all this went home [and were separated]. The tradition is still going, but in different names.