I originally wanted to put the different styles of ritual dance into sections, or divide them by region, but I found it almost impossible. What was really fascinating about this topic was that these independent traditions intersected and held common ground without any direct links (i.e. someone travelling cross-country with the customs). So you'll find I jump around the Earth a fair bit in my talk, but I hope you enjoy it.
As with my other talks, I do have a bibliography for this but will not post it to protect my work from plagiarism. However, if you would like a list of research material, do let me know.
Using Dance To Heal
In previous talks, I have shared various historical examples of dance ritual, one of my favourites to refer to is the Tarantella, which was considered to be a healing dance. This dance originated in 1370 in a coastal village in Italy, said to be performed in order to combat the Tarantism virus caused by spider bites. The frantic dance, performed in groups, was said to remove the poison from the body and prevent death. However, there is also evidence that suggests the spider bites weren’t actually fatal and that the Tarantella was actually a group ritual to honour the spider Goddess. The “medical” aspect was used as a smokescreen to hide witchcraft from the authorities.
An earlier instance of the use of frantic dance to cleanse the body of disease was surprisingly within the Christian tradition. This particular event took place in Kölbigk, Saxony at Christmas 1021. The preceding winter brought unexpectedly cold weather, followed by flooding in the spring, which caused a lot of the population to become sick. During the Christmas mass, a group composed of 15 men and 3 women refused to attend the ceremony, and instead held a dance ritual in the graveyard.
Another example where dance has been used to cure and ward off disease is the Nenaveli ritual of Kerala in South West India, which was performed to prevent smallpox. In this ritual, the main performer- usually male- takes on the role of the Devil Dancer, symbolising the demon thought to bring smallpox to their village. He is covered in a paste made of rice-flour, turmeric and lime, symbolising blood sacrifice, and unhusked rice grains to mimic smallpox sores. Like the aforementioned examples, this dance is also frantic, although performed alone. Alongside the dance, a song is performed in praise of the smallpox demon- my assumption is in order to politely coerce it to leave rather than risk upsetting it.
The dance ends with a symbolic sacrifice, which can take on different forms. I came across three examples in my research:
- A necklace made of plantain leaf sheaths is removed from the dancer at the end of the ritual, placed on the floor and sprinkled with lighted wicks and blood of a fowl. It is then trampled and crushed by all present.
- The dancer feigns exhaustion and “collapses” and the end of the ritual. Water is then poured all over him.
- A pit is made prior to the start of the ritual, with a plank laid over it. The dancer lies on the plank whilst a fire is lit in the pit.
Here, we can see some similarities to how modern Pagans cleanse items, areas and even people using the elements- in this case, using water or fire. In this case, the dance is akin to prayer, where it serves as communication with the Divine with the intention that the Deity will respond.
Moving onto the other side of the world, the Navajo tradition in North America takes on a wholly different perspective to healing based on their belief in how disease comes to the village. They share common ground with the Keralans in that they also believe that disease can be caused by a supernatural entity- usually a ghost- that places demands on the body that cannot be met. Additionally they share the use of the Medicine Man as the solo or primary dancer in the ritual, who exercises authority over the natural and supernatural in order to exorcise the cause of the disease. Where they differ is in how the ailment itself is treated. While the Nenaveli dance focuses specifically on ridding smallpox, the Navajo healing rituals don’t include any reference to the illnesses in question. Instead, their rituals recreate parts of their creation myths. This does sound quite disjointed until you think about the contents of these stories, where the First Woman and First Man travel through the Worlds to find a place to settle. They meet obstacles and troubles, which they overcome, which isn’t too different from someone dealing with an illness- their obstacle.
An example of this is the Squaw, or Enemyway, Dance. This was originally a wartime dance, but become a healing ritual in peaceful times. More than that, it was also intended to cleanse those returning from journeys outside of the tribe, where they may have come into contact with people or spirits that affect their wellbeing. The ritual lasts for three days, the dance recreating battle scenes. The patient acts as the Monster Slayer, who symbolically kills the ghosts- the other dancers- that are making him unwell. While the dance is of a fighting nature, the focus is always on the increase of health in the infected rather than slaying the monsters. In the Navajo tradition, specifically the Diné tradition, focus heavily on the concept of ‘hózhó’, meaning the balance between the individual and their physical and spiritual surroundings that lead to good health, beauty, peace and harmony.
The idea of using dance to bring a person to wholeness is also prevalent in Dionysian Magic, where the dance was a way of uniting with the Divine to cleanse the body. The dances were frantic and ecstatic, allowing participants to lose themselves in the movement in a process of catharsis. It was believed that Dionysus brought his qualities into the dancers, releasing their inhibitions and curing them of phobias and anxieties caused by daily life. Medically speaking, this is probably related to the release of endorphins caused by exercise, which is a great reliever of anxiety. Additionally, becoming "lost in movement" can induce a trance state, in which meditation and cathartic expression takes place.
Healing isn’t isolated to the person, of course. Healing dance can also be applied to the land itself. This is the case of the Wogosia Ritual in Santa Ana in the Solomon Islands. This is a New Year ritual to ask the spirits of the land- the Ataro si Fenua- for good health, abundant food, social harmony, prosperity and protection from invasion. To do this, they must sweep the land of the evils and negative energies from the past year. Like the Navajos, they also believe that disease is caused by an abundance of negative energy. The Wogosia dance is a procession across the island, going Eastwards, as if sweeping all ills of the year into the Pacific Ocean. Participants play conches and are surrounded by dancers, who take the conches to the ocean at the end of the ritual and ask the spirits to take all the negative energy elsewhere.
At this point, I would like to bring reference to the religion in which I grew up: Hinduism. In the region where my family is born, Gujarat, a common ritual dance is the Garba. Today, it does not have a specific purpose, and is a celebratory dance for all occasions. The purpose of the dance is defined by the God or Goddess to which it is dedicated. In the case of good health and fertility, a Garba can be performed in honour of Ganesh, Lakshmi or Durga. The Garba is a circular dance and sometimes uses decorated rods, known as Dandia Ras, which are knocked together in rhythm.
As we have experienced as Pagans, the circle is an important part of ritual. It creates equality, allows us all to see each other and creates the symbol of something without beginning or end. This isn’t confined to magick alone- even in the dance classes I attend, I’ve noticed that the automatic placement us students take at the beginning is a circle. The circle is safe, it’s protective. In dance magic, the circle stands for incorporating, giving, receiving and the exclusion of the undesired. It also creates unity as the dancers need to continue moving in the same rhythm to avoid disaster. The circle empowers, concentrating the power into its centre, allowing it to constantly flow and change without dissipating or escaping before it is released.
The other most popular form of ritual dance is the Spiral Dance, which we have all participated in if you have attended a group ritual, either with a coven or at the Gathering. The Labyrinth is an extension of the Spiral- its purpose, like the Circle, is to protect the sacred centre and to initiate those travelling a certain pathway- who, like Theseus, went into the darkness as a sacrifice and came out a champion. This was celebrated in Ancient Greece as the sacred Crane Dance. It is thought to have been performed for the first time in Crete upon Theseus’ return from the Labyrinth, having defeated the Minotaur. The dance comprises of the participants performing in a line, moving in a way that mimics Theseus’ journey through the labyrinth and involved three different patterns:
- The Strophe, which was widdershins and signified the sinister
- The Anti-Strophe, which was deosil and signified the fortunate
- The Stationary, which was slow and sombre movement
Believe it or not, this dance was integrated into Christian practice. The story of the Maze of Knossos was adapted for their mythology- the Minotaur was Satan, Theseus being Jesus. In their dance, participants held hands and are lead into the centre of the labyrinth, symbolising their descent into Hell. In the story, Jesus battles against Satan and triumphs, and so the dancers are then led out to salvation.
The Labyrinth Dance can be adapted for Solitary Practice quite easily, or even performed as a group. However, we will be going beyond simply walking the pathway of the Labyrinth. While this is absolutely powerful imagery, I want us to bring more of ourselves to the ritual. This is where gesture and mimetic movement come in. One of the most wonderful things about dance and movement is that it can be used to express thoughts and emotions that can be hard to articulate. Gesture, in itself, is a very powerful thing- with every gesture we use in ritual, we bring part of ourselves into the dance. The gestures we choose are created using a psychological stimulus, creating something that is cathartic and therefore effective in transmitting energy and power. To quote Scott Cunningham, “gestures are magickal tools as potent as any other, ones we can always take with us, to be used when needed”. Of course, he isn’t specifically referring to dance ritual, but it applies. A dance ritual need not use all parts of the body- it can be performed seated or kneeling and use only the hands. Dance styles such as the Bharat Natyam, Kathak and Street Dance use the face as part of the movement vocabulary, so why can’t we?
As we venture into the centre of the labyrinth, we are descending into Maze of Knossos to fight the Minotaur, the Minotaur being our obstacle- whatever that may be. The gestures will be chosen by you- symbolising something- an emotion, a situation- that you want to overcome. This doesn’t have to look pretty, you don’t even have to set the movement. This is something that comes from you- feel that feeling and let it be released through your body. As you reach the centre of the Labyrinth, you release that energy, defeating your obstacle. As you follow the trail out of the Labyrinth, start thinking about something you want more of in your life and allow that to guide your movement until you emerge triumphant.
Love and Light,
Shanti