Rob Bettmann

I wrote a post last week that had to do with pain in athletics and dance. You can see that here.

I have no illusions that somehow dance is more painful than other professions. Every profession has its own profile of benefits, and pain. Those who sit staring at a screen ten hours a day. Those who build things, fix things. Every job has pains.

The image to the left is of White House reporter Jon Decker being bitten by Barney, the First Dog. Most often reporters don’t get bitten, but still…. Can read the story here.

I quit dancing at one point. I took a job in an office, and tried to ‘hang it up’. I was miserable, and eventually went back dancing. But I knew – because I had been in the world – what it would mean to go back. I knew I would have the exhilirations, and the joys, and I knew I would have the soreness, the exhaustion.

On Bourgeon there has been some conversation comparing the pains of various jobs. Judith Hanna wrote a particularly clear piece comparing exotic dance to (amongst other professions) professional ballet. You can see that here.

Now, I’m not sure I have the same opinion as I used to, but here is what I wrote in response to Dr. Hanna’s piece:

The Fantasy of the Happy Hooker

Robert Bettmann November, 2007

In Fantasy: Adult Entertainment Exotic Dance, Judith Hanna asserts
that “Creating a theatrical erotic fantasy is no more likely to affect a
dancers interpersonal relationships than an actress onstage playing
a killer.” Certainly, performing the occasional erotic fantasy could
be compared in impact to any other occasional performance.
However, to imply that a stripper – whose regular gig it is to gyrate
nude inches from a mans face – has a work experience on par with
a professional actress seems willfully blind.

It is reasonable that in defending the profession Dr. Hanna
compares the impact of sex work to the impacts of other
professions (including professional dance.) With these parallels, she
tries to negate that sex work has its own particular impacts.

I remember hearing a joke in college about a happy hooker. We
knew it was a joke. Sex work – stripping and hooking – is not a
career. Its something young women (mostly) do to make money.
Many professions carry a certain degree of risk, and ignobility
(including mainstream dance.) Every profession has a unique profile
of risk, and benefit. Must we pretend for some reason that stripping
does not?

Dr. Hanna is regularly engaged with lawyers and lawmakers as an
expert witness in court cases regarding stripping and stripclubs. It
would seem that the concerns of law-makers are largely on the
influence that stripping will have on others. Why is it not on the
influence the profession has on the workers?

At some point in their lives, most people have to make choices
based on money. I have heard of cases where people have used
their time as strippers to better their lot in life. I have not heard
them claim the experience was benign, only that they were able to
better their lot by it. Rather than over-defending stripping, it might
make sense to consider if some people could get what they need
without exposing themselves to the ignominy of sex work.

Every job has pains. And yes, dancing does involve some physical pain. But there’s a lot of joy, too. I’m grateful to be a part of a profession whose joys I feel deeply.

poem I wrote in 2004. edit from a few months ago.

Love and Fantasy

Seizure-like forgiveness drags love and fantasy together

and as she forgets her nouns I recall the wordplay of hope.

Love and fantasy empty into the same ocean.

We swim at night into the middle,

leaving our glasses on the shore.

The night is a fantasy, a cataract of fear and hope.

Love and fantasy empty into the same ocean;

together we contemplate this buoyed present.

copyright R. Bettmann 9/2004

[suggested usage: press play, read post]

This is excerpted from the Nina Simone wikipedia page.

Youth (1933-1954)
Simone was born Eunice Kathleen Waymon in Tryon, North Carolina, one of eight children. She began playing piano at her local church and showed prodigious talent on this instrument. Her concert debut, a classical piano recital, was made at the age of ten. During her performance, her parents, who had taken seats in the front row, were forced to move to the back of the hall to make way for white people. Simone refused to play until her parents were moved back. This incident contributed to her later involvement in the civil rights movement.

Simone’s mother, Mary Kate Waymon (who lived into her late 90s) was a strict Methodist minister; her father, John Divine Waymon, was a handyman and sometime barber who suffered bouts of ill-health. Mrs. Waymon worked as a maid and her employer, hearing of Nina’s talent, provided funds for piano lessons. Subsequently, a local fund was set up to assist in Eunice’s continued education. At 17, Simone moved to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, where she taught piano and accompanied singers to fund her own studying as a classical music pianist at New York City’s Juilliard School of Music.

With the help of a private tutor she studied for an interview to further study piano at the Curtis Institute, but she was rejected. Simone believed that this rejection was directly related to her being black, as well as being a woman. It further fueled her hatred of the widespread and institutionalized racism present in the U.S. during the period.

Early success (1954-1959)

Simone played at the Midtown Bar & Grill on Pacific Avenue in Atlantic City to fund her study. The owner said that she would have to sing as well as play the piano in order to get the job. She took on the stage name “Nina Simone” in 1954 because she did not want her mother to know that she was playing “the devil’s music”. “Nina” (from “niña”, meaning “little girl” in Spanish) was a nickname a boyfriend had given to her and “Simone” was after the French actress Simone Signoret, whom she had seen in the movie Casque d’or. Simone played and sang a mixture of jazz, blues and classical music at the bar, and by doing so she created a small but loyal fan base.

After playing in small clubs she recorded a rendition of George Gershwin’s “I Loves You Porgy” (from Porgy and Bess) in 1958, which was learned from a Billie Holiday album and performed as a favor to a friend. It became her only Billboard top 40 hit in the United States, and her debut album Little Girl Blue soon followed on Bethlehem Records. Simone would never benefit financially from the album; she sold the rights for $3000, missing out on more than $1 million of royalties (mainly because of the successful re-release of “My Baby Just Cares for Me” in the 1980s).

Becoming “popular” (1959-1964)
After the success of Little Girl Blue, Simone signed a contract with the bigger label Colpix Records, followed by a string of studio and live albums. Colpix relinquished all creative control, including the choice of material that would be recorded, to her in exchange for her signing with them. Simone, who at this point only performed pop music to make money to continue her classical music studies, was bold with her demand for control over her music because she was indifferent about having a recording contract. She would keep this attitude towards the record industry for most of her career.

I remember being amazed when I first read that ‘Nina’ had been a classical pianist at Julliard. And that she hadn’t even been a singer till her bar-manager made her sing with her piano-playing. Amazing woman, amazing song. Good day.