Tribal Fusion ReVamped

Faust and Marguerite are dancing to tribal techno. Tattooed to the right of Nicole Richardson’s navel, the devil-plagued 19th-century opera lovers rotate and roll at the command of her hips to a half-organic, half-electronic drumbeat.

Richardson — a collector of old, dusty novels — reads the story from a book with its original illustrations. She encountered a drawing of Faust fleeing the devil with Marguerite, one that she needed to have on her body. Now the couple dances, ever as before, to the dark rhythms of the night.

A year ago this Halloween, Richardson founded Koreshakti Tribal Fusion, a local group of dancers who, true to their name, fuse divergent elements, from Egyptian belly dance to the jerky limb-popping of hip-hop  — taking tradition to a dark, more mystical place where lighthearted flirting makes way for the occult. Their genre-straddling will be on full display during two performances this weekend at Caterina Winery.

“It kind of wanders the realms of the imagination,” Richardson says.

Arm positions are more pronounced, making for a less dainty, more commanding stage presence. There’s no cutesy flirtation with the audience.

“Anyone who has control over their body movement and has the confidence to get up onstage is automatically sexy,” she says, rebutting the suggestion that the hip-gyrating, belly-baring movements are inherently sexual. “Our abdomens are exposed, but it’s for a purpose. All of our movements are based in our core.”

The badass, gothy aesthetic is what drew Richardson to tribal fusion to begin with. She was enthralled by a belly dancer at a friend’s wedding despite never having considered dancing before. A shy, self-proclaimed bookworm, she was drawn to its introspective, less-feminine feel.

“Most tribal fusion dancers are tomboys. We don’t grow our nails. We just glue them on,” says Richardson from behind thick mahogany bangs.

In costume from a solo gig before practice, she has long, red feathers dangling from her ears and a black line is drawn down the middle of her bottom lip. Unlike the sparkly attire you may expect belly dancers to wear, her bangles, bulky rings and antique coins stitched to belts have “been around the block a few times.”

Richardson says she spends almost as much time hand-sewing costumes as she does rehearsing for performances. Getting ready — concocting a crown of quills, flowers and metal adornments, pasting on eyelashes beneath heavy makeup, piecing together flowing pants with skirts and belts and pairing embellished bras with heavy antique necklaces — can easily take four hours.

Richardson assembled Koreshakti for Halloween performances last year, then followed up those with six other shows. They’re booked for their biggest-ever gig at the Bing next February. 

At a recent rehearsal, in  an uncharacteristically humorous number from their Halloween show, four of the women play dolls being awakened by an evil puppet master — who pokes and prods each frozen body until, one by one, they’re spurred to movement.

“We’re dolls, we’re cute, and then Kendra’s the evil puppet master. And it all gets bad from there — real bad,” says Richardson with mischief in her dark-rimmed eyes. “It’s gonna be kinda wac­ky.”

Koreshakti Tribal Fusion’s “Nocturnus ReVamped” on Friday-Saturday, Oct. 30-31, at 8 pm at Caterina Winery, 905 N. Washington St. Tickets: $12; $15 at the door. Visit caterinawinery.com or call 328-5069 .