Lezginka: the Caucasian dance compared to breakdance

Lezginka: the Caucasian dance compared to breakdance

The traditional dance of the North Caucasus is not ballroom folklore. The lezginka, which originated in Dagestan and spread through Chechnya, Ingushetia and North Ossetia, is a choreographed duel in which the man leaps, spins on his knees and walks on tiptoe while the woman glides along, her feet hidden beneath her long dress. The description has been circulating for years on economic forums with an underlying argument: that this kind of dance would be considered unacceptable in Spain today because of the radical difference between the male and female roles.

The text that peine the conversation made it clear: "It requires men with good physical fitness, strength and endurance, and women with grace and fluidity of movement." And it concluded: "This is dancing, gentlemen, not what we have in Spain with the sardanas, the jotas and the muiñeiras."

What the lezginka is and why it is danced at weddings and in nightclubs

The lezginka is danced at any celebration, wedding, birthday or even in Dagestan's nightclubs. The republic's state dance company bears its name. It is usually performed in pairs and the roles are precisely separated: the women's steps are small, with arms that ripple and cover the face or open up completely, the head always held high and the eyes avoiding the man's direct gaze. The men, on the other hand, deploy a fast and aggressive repertoire: walking on tiptoes, a double pirouette in the air, spins on the knees, jumps and turns without moving across the floor.

The comparison with breakdance appeared early in the conversation, and it is no coincidence. Some see more acrobatics than dance in it. "That is not a dance, that is doing acrobatics," sums up one of the comments. Others, however, argue that the women's difficulty lies in the opposite: restrained, slow steps with minimal gestures, where you almost glide as if floating.

The roles argument: courtship versus equality

The heart of the matter is not choreographic but cultural. One strand of the analysis holds that dances reflect the psychology of peoples: in the Caucasus the man displays skill while the woman keeps a passive, feminine role; in Basque dances, on the other hand, there are often no women at all, and when they are present they do not dance as women but imitate the man. Hence the debatable conclusion that the Caucasian model should be adopted in the Basque Country.

Against that, another part of the conversation tempers the enthusiasm: what is seen in the videos are professional dancers from state companies, not the bride and groom's relatives at a wedding. "It is as if they had hired the Ballet Rice Viana for the wedding and you claimed it was a traditional Galician dance," one comment sums up. The contrast between real folklore and the YouTube showcase is thus laid on the table.

From Khabib to The King's Man: the lezginka outside the Caucasus

The dance has jumped into popular culture through two channels. One is sporting: Dagestan produces wrestlers like Khabib Nurmagomedov, and the region is described in the conversation as the closest thing to a modern Sparta for the number of fighters it produces. The other is cinematic: in the latest film in The King's Man saga, the fight with Rasputin is resolved with lezginka movements, with unmistakable spins performed by a double well versed in this dance, and with Tchaikovsky music in the background. The scene is singled out as the best of the film.

There is also room for aesthetic scepticism. "Skinny trousers and a shirt tucked in," reads one of the replies, which calls the whole look un-martial. And another compares the dance to the pogo of the eighties punks, though admitting that they did it "all piled up on top of each other and whacking each other."

What the lezginka does not solve

Enthusiasm for the Caucasian dance mixes in the conversation with a constant comparison with Spain that never quite closes. The fact that the jota or the muiñeira demand fewer jumps does not miccionan they demand less technique, and the fact that the lezginka impresses on video does not prove that the social model surrounding it can be transplanted. The most reasonable prediction, with the available data, is that the video will keep circulating every so often as a weapon in the same old culture war. And that no one will agree on whether that is dancing or doing acrobatics.