Frédérik: You mentioned how both bellydance and the gothic subculture are near and dear to your heart. I’d like to begin with goth. We’re both aware of how it isn’t something easily defined, which is a challenge in that it makes it hard to dispel stereotypes (especially negative ones like the association with Columbine). Yet, this very lack of an etched-in-stone dictionary definition is also liberating in the sense that it allows individuals much more freedom of expression than one might expect from any kind of culture. For all the cliquishness we occasionally (and perhaps inevitably) find whenever groups of people come together, goth fundamentally strives for individuality and non-conformity. So given all of that, what does the gothic subculture mean to you? What is it about goth that makes it near and dear to your heart?

Ariellah: Your backdrop to this question is such a wonderful intro and I am indeed inclined to shy away from stereotypes and labeling. For me personally, being goth or gothic is about, as you stated, self expression; self expression in the sense of being more in touch with your feelings and with yourself. Knowing yourself. Being in absolute touch with your emotions and feelings. Expressing yourself through your art, whether that be painting, music, dancing, fashion, makeup, metalworking, and so on and so forth. I feel that within the gothic subculture there is a connectedness to feelings of sorrow, which finds its way into our music and dance and in all sorts of ways, as opposed to “mainstream” society which, in my opinion, seems to live miles away from their intimate feelings. And as a result, there is something fearsome about a group of people who know their own souls, their own voices, and their own feelings and thoughts and are very in touch with them. They, whoever they are, the powers that be I suppose, create a media strangle on the gothic subculture: they portray goth in a completely negative light. They demonize it, just as they did paganism. There is a fear of self expression and originality. And I have found throughout my life that my art derives from my pain…when I am more sorrowful there is much more of a deep emotion that wants to come out. If you look at western music, comparatively speaking to say, eastern or roma gypsy music…you find so much more passion and feeling and aliveness in the gypsy music than you do in any western musical piece…and when you feel and know pain, true sorrow, only then can you bask in the light. When I am happy, there is honestly not much to write about. I have notebooks and notebooks full of poetry, all from a darker time in my life…and I still am only human and go through rough periods and it all motivates my art and my dance. And the gothic subculture always had open arms for me, from the time I was young, living in Los Angeles County in the late 70s, early 80s, having dark hair, dark eyes, a strange name, and spending all of my weekends with my Moroccan family and not doing the things my friends at school did, and eating different foods, made me feel totally alienated from the other children and they were cruel to me. This pushed me toward a “group” of people that would accept me for who I was. In the end I feel that somehow, when there is sorrow, our feelings go deeper, much deeper…and here is something I wrote in an online forum about a year or more ago that will thoroughly answer your question, if you would be so kind as to allow me to include it here:

“Ah yes, the dark light…

Is it not good to know the darkness, so that the light is that much more beautiful? even if only a dim light…

When one actually *feels*, and is sensitive and feels pain, why is it such a crime? To feel pain, to feel darkness…its beautiful. Pain inspires art and thought and contemplation and appreciation…

I simply cannot help but fall in love with the beauty of cemeteries, the moon, gothic architecture, melancholy songs, minor keyed tunes, twilight (when the world is so very still and darker, and beautiful), women and men dressed to kill in top hats and petticoats…To be mundane is to bow down, unknowingly, to the society of the spectacle, and THAT, my friend, is something I refuse to do.

There is so much beauty to be found in darkness.

Americans and perhaps people everywhere, have not been socially educated to see the beauty that lies there…no, we wouldn't want that now would we? Perhaps it all began when organized religion decided to strip people of their faith in the land and nature and remove paganism from the very soul of this world…

Why is it, that the darker side of life, that the dark light, that darkness, is simply not acceptable in society? “

Frédérik: Perhaps part of the problem is that goths don’t define “darkness” in quite the same way most people? Literary and mythological themes, for example, all reinforce – through countless sun gods and defeated gods of darkness as well as the quintessential war between light and dark – the association of light with goodness, wisdom, virtue, etc, and dark with evil, ignorance, corruption, and the like. Light and dark are metaphors for morality in most cultures. But for goths, as you point out, it’s really more introspective. It’s more about emotions and attitudes towards living in the world as it is. One could almost say that goths today continue on the work of Epicurus and all those philosophers who tried to be very holistic in their views of living “the good life;” holistic, in that death is as much a part of the discussion as life. So perhaps there’s a miscommunication going on; when we talk about the darker side of life and refer to the human condition, others interpret that to mean the evil side of life.

So it’s no surprise, then, that embracing the gothic subculture can create “issues,” especially when working in the mainstream. Offices, stores, restaurants; most of these places just aren’t venues in which the gothic subculture can find outlets for expression or acceptance. However, being an artist with different and more open-minded venues to work in, you’ve had wonderful opportunities not available to people in the corporate world. Still, have you found yourself, either personally or professionally, hampered by other people’s reaction to your gothic sensibilities? What are your biggest pet peeves and, just as importantly, what do you think is the best way to counter these misperceptions?

Ariellah: This is such a wonderful question, as I experience this more and more as I get older…professionally and in my personal dealings out in the countryside (as I am currently looking to buy a whole lot of land and have a farm and garden and go hunting, etc.) I have found that if I have an opportunity to hold a conversation with a person who seems to be staring at me, or (when I had a day job) got to know my co-worker, or talk to those corporate friends of my step sister and brother…heh…it is so interesting, b/c these people begin to realize that I am just the same as them…no different and that I am a very kind, if not very pleasant and intelligent, delightful, person, but that I happen to be very pale, never wear any other color but black, have a lot of tattoos, and have dog vertebrae and pheasant feathers in my hair and long black dreadlocks, and have a lot of piercings, and really, really nice big black boots. I find that if they talk to me once, the, what I believe, media enforced view, just falls away. And most recently, almost everywhere I go, sometimes two or three times a day I get all sorts of comments from people of all ages, walks of life, subcultures, telling me my hair is beautiful or my boots are super cool, or my dress is so unique and nice…I don’t know if its just my energy, or if other Goths experience this as of late, but walking down the street, seeing something totally out of the ordinary, very adorned, not mundane, and something more like a painting or a vision of loveliness can really make a person turn their head and it seems to brighten people’s faces and they want to remark about it. And I find many people tell me how they like it, how they like what they see, quite frankly. And its funny because my boyfriend has blue dreadlocks and a Mohawk and we have been remodeling our house as of late, and he or we will go into an appliance or tiling shop and people tend to disregard us, but once they get to talking with us, they are laughing and having great conversations and find that we are serious homeowners just like everyone else. The same is true for instance when we meet a farmer and they find out we know how to hunt or garden or shoot, or a mainstream American and they find out we know more about nutrition than they ever knew, and give them tips about raising their children…its all quite silly. Everyone has bought into the negative stereotype, and really, I mean come on, didn’t everyone learn as a child that you should not judge a book by its cover?

Frédérik: This raises the question as to when and how the gothic subculture and your passion for dance came together. You studied classical ballet with the Royal Academy of Dance of London. Later you took to bellydance – a part of your Moroccan heritage and a lifelong goal. How did goth come to fit into your career as a dancer?

Ariellah: It was only natural that my Moroccan heritage, my strict classical ballet training and my gothic life should culminate in my dance. There was no way that my stylization, my self expression or that darker edge could not come through, as it has been a part of me for most of my life. I have been dancing at goth clubs for 13 years, and that core root of my natural expression could never, and will never be stifled. Once I learned the basic belly dance movements and drilled those for about 4 years (and of course as I continue to drill to this day) and started choreographing – my eyes, ears, hands, reached out for the music that pleased me, for the movements and stylization of those basic belly dance movements that would please me and my tastes and my own self expression. The music is my complete muse and so I must be completely in love with it, thus my musical tastes tend to sit within the gothic subculture…hence my use of this darker music…and when I dance, I express the music, I look into the eyes and hearts of the audience. I take from them and they take from me and it is a perfect dance and we all rejoice in it. I give myself to them. I find that hands, and movement of the hands can be so very expressive and so I use much hand work in my dance to draw my audience in and tell them a story, take them on a journey of my love of dance and a journey of the beautiful music that rings in my ears, the music that is my muse.

Frédérik: It’s interesting that you should mention hand movements and storytelling. I’ve been coming across these a lot in my explorations of dance – obviously because these are such universal elements. This leads me to think of “fusion,” the intersection of a rich variety of dance traditions and styles, and really just how limitless artistic expression can be. It also leads me to wonder about the work involved in preparing for a performance, whether live or in one of the several DVD projects you’ve worked on. From a more technical standpoint, how do you translate your various inspirations into a choreographed or improvised dance?

Ariellah: Well, in fact, the music inspires me…it tells me what to do. I usually fall completely in love with a piece of music and play it over and over and over again because I love the sound, and what usually ends up happening is an outpouring, overflowing burst of ideas and visions. It happens a lot while I am driving…and then I go down into my studio and “play” with the song for hours, just simply dancing to it and allowing myself to shine through…allowing the music to dictate what I am to do. I used to count out and write down every count in the music, then I would fill in all the blanks with movements. Now it is more like I dance to the music, and then capture it on my video recorder and if there are any blanks, that is when I start using the “counting phrases” method previously mentioned.