With the recent passing of two musical icons who really nailed it in the legacy department, social media is flooded with their previously unknown exhales of art that will be around for at least another generation or more. Whether it be vaults of unreleased music, inspiring stories of artistic integrity or heartfelt letters from people across the globe confessing how Prince or Bowie’s music got them through the roughest of times, it’s all got me thinking. Those of us who will never reach such levels of fame or notoriety, are we hoping to leave a lasting mark on our art? Am I?
The truth is, I don’t think so. The longer I dance the less I care about receiving recognition for it. My dance goals are in the here and now. I seek ways to grow and challenge myself and, while I am tremendously grateful that I get to inspire my students and maybe some audiences, my dance is not so innovative. I am one part of a long lineage that connects an ancient dance to the present. Sure, I use movement to transcend problems, to express what words can’t, to tap into something far more special than taxes or weekly trips to Stop & Shop, but I don’t feel disappointed to think my story ends with me.
I’m deeply moved by the body of work these two musicians created. They are examples of people who became famous in spite of themselves, on their own terms, who maintained control of their artistry throughout their careers. I’ve been moved to tears listening to Prince’s latest album and re-discovering Bowie’s Lady Grinning Soul; dancing to both with a newfound appreciation. I can imagine how satisfying it is to know that your art lives on without you and I would be honored to learn this were possible for me but… it isn’t. And that’s ok.
Prince and Bowie’s passing has renewed and strengthened my desire to have integrity in my work. Heck, did you see the letter Prince wrote to Suzanne Vega? It’s beautiful both in its words and penmanship/design. Thriving creativity doesn’t take a nap when it’s time to write letters. Artists who don’t phone it in, can inspire in so many ways beyond the talents they’re celebrated for. (Note to self: Write more sincere letters that people feel compelled to keep for years to come).
Both Prince and Bowie harnessed their creativity and paired it with a diligent work ethic. Learning about how they lived and made music has been like a little slap on my wrist reminding me that life is short and it’s time to dance all the dance I can. I heard a story on NPR about a jazz musician (sorry I forgot his name) who got a visit from a friend’s little girl near the end of his life. The little girl asked if he was dying and he said, “Yeah, but it’s been a great gig.” That’s what I want to feel at the end of the line…more than anything.
Tava is a professional bellydancer, instructor, choreographer and author based in NYC and CT. She is available to perform at family occasions, cultural events, theatrical performances, galas or media appearances. Tava’s weekly bellydance classes are in Fairfield County, CT with a range of workshop topics offered in various locations in the U.S. To learn more, visit: BellydancebyTava.com