Adventures on the Silk Road:
An Interview with Laurel Victoria Gray
by Laura Rose
HABIBI MAGAZINE Volume 13, Number 2, Spring 1994
Laurel Victoria Gray is President of the Uzbek Dance Society and
Artistic Director of the Tanavar Dance Ensemble. Trained as an
historian, she has authored numerous articles on various aspects of
Middle Eastern and Central Asian culture which have been translated into
German, Uzbek, Russian and Georgian. Laurel also created the video “An
Introduction to Uzbek Dance.” She has taught, performed, and lectured
extensively throughout the United States, Europe as well as in throughout the former Soviet
Union.
Laura Rose (LR): Welcome back from Uzbekistan, Laurel. You’ve certainly been gone a long time.
Laurel Victoria Gray (LVG): Thank you. I’ve been gone almost two years. So much has happened since then, I feel out of touch with American society. When I left, Bush was still President and Habibi was facing extinction. Things have certainly changed!
LR: How are dancers treated in Uzbekistan? Are they respected?
LVG: Under the Soviets, professional dance was not only funded by the government, but dancers were awarded titles such as “Merited Artist” and People’s Artist.” They also enjoyed special privileges. But Soviet influence was simply a veneer which overlaid an older, Islamic culture where respectable women never danced in public. Court dancers were members of the Emir’s harem. That same mentality, that highly placed officials “own” dancers and that respectable women don’t dance in public, still remains. Many young dancers must give up their careers upon marriage because their in-laws will not allow them to keep dancing. Other parents refuse to let their daughters study dance because it might adversely affect their marriage prospects.
LR: Have things changed a lot for dancers since Uzbekistan became independent?
LVG: As you know, this was my sixth visit to Uzbekistan, giving me a good basis for comparison. I saw many changes in the artistic community and most of them were negative. The government can no longer support these huge performing ensembles. Bakhor, for example, always Uzbekistan’s premiere dance company, traditionally had a corps of about 45 dancers; they are now down to fifteen.
Before independence, dancers made a comparatively comfortable wage. Now they simply cannot support themselves with hyper-inflation making everything so expensive. Some dancers and musicians have left the field of performing arts to take more lucrative jobs elsewhere. Others have left the country to dance in nightclubs in Greece, Jordan, and the UAR.
One supplemental source of income is dancing at weddings. Uzbek weddings are huge affairs, especially those hosted by local mafia. Many leading performers are linked with the mob. The guests hand money to performeres and it is possible to make the equivalent of six months pay in one evening. But doing so ruins a dancers reputation because she is expected to be “available” to guests after the wedding — for an additional price. One of the worst insults one can hear about a dancer is “she dances at weddings.” Still, some dancers find it difficult to pass up the opportunity to earn such large amounts of money, especially those who may be divorced with children to support.
LR: How much do dancers make?
LVG: As of December, 1993, the average pay was about 45,000 sum (Uzbek currency). But when a chicken costs almost 25,000 sum and a kilo of sausage around 10,000 sum, it becomes apparent that this is not a sufficient wage. And this is only food costs. Clothing is astronomical. So is fabric. Imported materials can go for as much as 40,000 sum per meter.
LR: What kind of costuming materials are available? Have the shortages made things more difficult?
LVG: Uzbekistan is located on the ancient Silk Road, so, not surprisingly, the area produces silk — ikat, chiffon, crepe de Chine, georgette, brocade — but supplies are extremely unpredictable. They can disappear overnight from the government stores which have a virtual monopoly on these textiles. Such unannounced disappearances signal a price hike; the fabrics reappear as soon as the new prices are in place. Increases can be as much as 200%. Sometimes all stores are closed down completely and without warning for weeks at a time.
One learns to be very creative when resources are limited. I used gold-colored metallic subway tokens to create a coin belt with the assistance of an enthusiastic jeweler. The tokens had the right weight and sound; the result was stunning. Unfortunately, the government has switched to plastic tokens, so one more costuming source has vanished.
Velvet, metallics and sequin-cloth have started to turn up in bazaars, thanks to a jet-age variation on the ancient Silk Road. The new national air company Uzbekistan Airways, has opened routes to Turkey, India, and Pakistan. Many individuals have gotten into business by flying to Istanbul, selling Uzbek items in the bazaars, and returning home with suitcases full of scarce consumer goods which they then re-sell in Uzbekistan. (As a result, tourists in Turkey have started bringing home Uzbek items purchased in Istanbul, not knowing they were not of Turkish origin.) This is definitely a small-time sort of operation and not really business as we know it, but it has made some goods more available to the public, even though they are outrageously expensive by local standards.
Thread, zippers, sew-on jewels, sequin, trim and other such supplies are extremely scarce. the “Sequins for Peace” contributions which I brought were received with rejoicing. I saw several costumes which were created from various donations. One American dancer donated a belly dance costume which I helped customize for a dancer in Tashkent. She was absolutely thrilled, and it was great to help her because she was an excellent dancer who had a deep love for Arabic dance. Her debut (in this dance form) was with American-style costuming.
Read the rest of the interview at:
http://thebestofhabibi.com/no-2-spring-1994/silk-road/
This very candid interview took place in 1994, after Laurel Victoria Gray returned from living in Uzbekistan for two years immediately after the dissolution of the Soviet Union. Happily, the social and economic conditions have since stabilized. National dance is a prominent feature of all state celebrations
Laura Rose (LR): Welcome back from Uzbekistan, Laurel. You’ve certainly been gone a long time.
Laurel Victoria Gray (LVG): Thank you. I’ve been gone almost two years. So much has happened since then, I feel out of touch with American society. When I left, Bush was still President and Habibi was facing extinction. Things have certainly changed!
LR: How are dancers treated in Uzbekistan? Are they respected?
LVG: Under the Soviets, professional dance was not only funded by the government, but dancers were awarded titles such as “Merited Artist” and People’s Artist.” They also enjoyed special privileges. But Soviet influence was simply a veneer which overlaid an older, Islamic culture where respectable women never danced in public. Court dancers were members of the Emir’s harem. That same mentality, that highly placed officials “own” dancers and that respectable women don’t dance in public, still remains. Many young dancers must give up their careers upon marriage because their in-laws will not allow them to keep dancing. Other parents refuse to let their daughters study dance because it might adversely affect their marriage prospects.
LR: Have things changed a lot for dancers since Uzbekistan became independent?
LVG: As you know, this was my sixth visit to Uzbekistan, giving me a good basis for comparison. I saw many changes in the artistic community and most of them were negative. The government can no longer support these huge performing ensembles. Bakhor, for example, always Uzbekistan’s premiere dance company, traditionally had a corps of about 45 dancers; they are now down to fifteen.
Before independence, dancers made a comparatively comfortable wage. Now they simply cannot support themselves with hyper-inflation making everything so expensive. Some dancers and musicians have left the field of performing arts to take more lucrative jobs elsewhere. Others have left the country to dance in nightclubs in Greece, Jordan, and the UAR.
One supplemental source of income is dancing at weddings. Uzbek weddings are huge affairs, especially those hosted by local mafia. Many leading performers are linked with the mob. The guests hand money to performeres and it is possible to make the equivalent of six months pay in one evening. But doing so ruins a dancers reputation because she is expected to be “available” to guests after the wedding — for an additional price. One of the worst insults one can hear about a dancer is “she dances at weddings.” Still, some dancers find it difficult to pass up the opportunity to earn such large amounts of money, especially those who may be divorced with children to support.
LR: How much do dancers make?
LVG: As of December, 1993, the average pay was about 45,000 sum (Uzbek currency). But when a chicken costs almost 25,000 sum and a kilo of sausage around 10,000 sum, it becomes apparent that this is not a sufficient wage. And this is only food costs. Clothing is astronomical. So is fabric. Imported materials can go for as much as 40,000 sum per meter.
LR: What kind of costuming materials are available? Have the shortages made things more difficult?
LVG: Uzbekistan is located on the ancient Silk Road, so, not surprisingly, the area produces silk — ikat, chiffon, crepe de Chine, georgette, brocade — but supplies are extremely unpredictable. They can disappear overnight from the government stores which have a virtual monopoly on these textiles. Such unannounced disappearances signal a price hike; the fabrics reappear as soon as the new prices are in place. Increases can be as much as 200%. Sometimes all stores are closed down completely and without warning for weeks at a time.
One learns to be very creative when resources are limited. I used gold-colored metallic subway tokens to create a coin belt with the assistance of an enthusiastic jeweler. The tokens had the right weight and sound; the result was stunning. Unfortunately, the government has switched to plastic tokens, so one more costuming source has vanished.
Velvet, metallics and sequin-cloth have started to turn up in bazaars, thanks to a jet-age variation on the ancient Silk Road. The new national air company Uzbekistan Airways, has opened routes to Turkey, India, and Pakistan. Many individuals have gotten into business by flying to Istanbul, selling Uzbek items in the bazaars, and returning home with suitcases full of scarce consumer goods which they then re-sell in Uzbekistan. (As a result, tourists in Turkey have started bringing home Uzbek items purchased in Istanbul, not knowing they were not of Turkish origin.) This is definitely a small-time sort of operation and not really business as we know it, but it has made some goods more available to the public, even though they are outrageously expensive by local standards.
Thread, zippers, sew-on jewels, sequin, trim and other such supplies are extremely scarce. the “Sequins for Peace” contributions which I brought were received with rejoicing. I saw several costumes which were created from various donations. One American dancer donated a belly dance costume which I helped customize for a dancer in Tashkent. She was absolutely thrilled, and it was great to help her because she was an excellent dancer who had a deep love for Arabic dance. Her debut (in this dance form) was with American-style costuming.
Read the rest of the interview at:
http://thebestofhabibi.com/no-2-spring-1994/silk-road/
This very candid interview took place in 1994, after Laurel Victoria Gray returned from living in Uzbekistan for two years immediately after the dissolution of the Soviet Union. Happily, the social and economic conditions have since stabilized. National dance is a prominent feature of all state celebrations
