The Forgiveness Project Begins: A Movement Presentation on Lines from Biblical Psalms

Fortunately, I don’t have to rack my memory to figure out the beginning steps for The Forgiveness Project, as they are well documented in the February 2001 Avodah Dance Ensemble Newsletter.  Much of what I am sharing in this blog comes from the Newsletter’s opening article.

I did indeed read Desmond Tutu’s book No Future Without Forgiveness which Canon Lloyd Casson had suggested. Towards the end of the book Tutu has a paragraph related to the need for Israel to wrestle with forgiveness for Germany.  He is not the only one to point this out.  In January 2000, Elie Wiesel spoke of forgiveness in a speech he made on the German Day of Remembrance when he addressed the Bundestag. Simon Wiesenthal addressed this important question in his book The Sunflower. Certainly the question of forgiveness related to post-Holocaust German/Jewish relationships is one of the most challenging.  My plan was for the dance company to wrestle with this difficult question in a new way through movement. There was no goal to come up with any one definitive answer, just to wrestle with the question.

We would also look at forgiveness from a variety of perspectives – forgiveness of oneself, forgiveness within a relationship, forgiveness as it relates to God and forgiveness between communities.  We officially began our work on forgiveness for the project in the fall of 2000 when we presented a lecture demonstration on Yom Kippur afternoon at Hebrew Union College – Jewish Institute of Religion’s High Holiday Services for College and Graduate Students.  For this presentation I decided to focus on forgiveness between self and God. To prepare I read the Book of Psalms and jotted down any lines that related to forgiveness.  After much pondering I came up with four stages in the process of asking forgiveness of God: being aware of needing to ask for forgiveness; accepting the responsibility to do so; asking for forgiveness; and feeling certain expectations upon being forgiven by God.  Three dancers, including Beth Millstein who had worked with Avodah for over seven years, joined me, and we explored the four stages with related lines of text from Psalms.

Much to my delight I have notes from this demonstration and I share them now.  Readers who are interested in leading workshops on forgiveness are very welcome to use the text and ideas presented here.

Here are the stages of Forgiveness with supporting Psalm references

1.             Reflect or ponder our actions

“So tremble, and sin no more;
  Ponder it on your bed, and be silent  (Psalm 4:5)

2.            Take Responsibility

“For my iniquities have overwhelmed me:
  They are like a heavy burden, more that I can bear.”  (Psalm 38:4)
 
   “I recognize my transgressions
    And am ever conscious of my sins.” (Psalm 51:3)
 
   “I have considered my ways,
    And have turned back to your decrees.” (Psalm 119:59)

3.            Take Action

“Then I acknowledged my sin to you;
  I did not cover up my guilt;” (Psalm 32)

4.            Express how we feel/or anticipate how we will feel after taking action

“Happy is he whose transgression is forgiven,
  Whose sin is covered over.” (Psalm 32:1)
 
  “You are my shelter:
   You preserve me from distress:
   You surround me with the joyous shouts of deliverance.” (Psalm 32:7)
 
    “God redeems your life from the Pit,
    Surrounds you with steadfast love and mercy.” (Psalm 103:4)
 
    “Yours is the power to forgive
     So that You may be held in awe.” (Psalm 130:3-4)
 

We used some of these lines of text in our demonstration as part of the Yom Kippur afternoon service at HUC-JIR and I am most grateful for Rabbi Larry Raphael (of blessed memory) for inviting us to present.  In the formal presentation at HUC-JIR the dancers improvised to the lines of text while members of the congregation watched. 

As the Forgiveness Project continued we wove these lines from The Book of Psalms  into future workshops guiding groups of various ages to explore them.  Usually I started with the first stage, read the line of text and then asked each person to respond in movement to the imagery being expressed – for example, to imagine he/she is pondering on “his/her sins” and express what that would be like in movement. 

We added other texts into the Forgiveness Project, including biblical texts, writings of Moses Maimonides, lines from the New Testament, a poem by Thich Nhat Hanh and a passage from Wally Lamb’s novel I Know this Much is True.  I will be sharing more about these texts and how they fit into the Forgiveness Project in the next few blogs.

JoAnne, on tour in Florida in the fall of 2000, sharing text from the Book of Psalms
with a group of religious school students. 
Dancers improvising for the students, on lines of text from the Book of Psalms.

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Canon Lloyd Casson: Exploring Spirituality

As I mentioned in the previous blog, Canon Lloyd Casson played a very important role in the development of The Forgiveness Project.  Even before planting the seeds for this project, he was an inspiring resource for Avodah and for me personally, and I thank him.  In December 1997 Kezia Gleckman Hayman wrote this beautiful article about him and his approach.  His message and Kezia’s writing seem even more important today. Thank you, Kezia, for sharing this again.

The entire article below is from the December 1997 Avodah Newsletter.

(Kezia notes that it was in the service described below that she first heard the spiritual “There is a Balm in Gilead,” beautifully sung by the choir.  She found it particularly fitting, therefore, that in the opening of the Forgiveness Project piece, it was that same spiritual that Newman Taylor Baker chose to sing, so movingly.)

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When Avodah Makes You Cry or Burst into Applause, Say Hello to Your Soul 

Since its founding, Avodah has been honored to perform in both Jewish communities and arts settings throughout the country, and in 1997 we continued our joyful tradition of appearing in temples, community centers, schools, museums and theaters.  In November, we enjoyed an extra-special interfaith experience, which we share here with you.

In ancient Hebrew, “Avodah” meant “worship”; in modern Hebrew, it means “work.”  (I seem to remember hearing the violinist Yehudi Menuhin define “Avodah” as work for which one feels a calling – an avocation – or “service of the heart.”)  Similarly, “liturgy,” which we currently understand to mean “worship” or “ritual,” is derived from the Greek word meaning “public service.” Such were the connections shared recently in a forum entitled Dancing Together as People of Faith, following Avodah’s participation in the Sunday morning service at the Episcopal Church of Saints Andrew and Matthew in Wilmington, Delaware.  In a service given the theme One Earth, One God: A Holy Dance (and filled with the mighty dance of music of the choir and organist), Avodah danced three pieces:  the Hanshamah Lakh (The Soul is Yours) section of our Selichot Suite; May the Words (“May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be acceptable unto Thee, oh Lord, my strength and my redeemer”); and Kaddish.  Our journey to Wilmington began with our participation last year in an AIDS memorial service at St. Mark’s Church in New York City, where the spiritual leader was Canon Lloyd Casson and the musical director was Jeannine Otis.  Canon Casson is now in Wilmington.  Jeannine has been visiting there as guest vocal soloist, and she accompanied our dancing.  Avodah seeks in several of its pieces to explore the history of liturgy and to capture the essential feeling of such ritual.  We believe that the history of much ritual overlaps religions, and certainly the goal of such experience is recognizably common.  When we met Canon Casson at St. Mark’s, we knew we had stumbled upon a remarkable spiritual leader.  The AIDS memorial service was accessible, meaningful, moving, respectful and soothing for attendees of all faiths, without attempting to hide its Episcopalian setting.  In Canon Casson’s leadership it was simply clear that the message delivered did not depend upon details of the particular terms chosen for its communication.

Canon Casson is an unassuming, gentle man with a heart-filled smile.  In normal conversation, he speaks in a muted voice and draws into himself both vertically and horizontally as if trying to disappear.  When leading a service he maintains the unpretentiousness of his delivery but takes on a conviction and posture which convey powerful grace.  He is vocal about his aim to help establish an “alternate” liturgy, and he and Jeannine have become an inspirational leadership team on this path.  The journey is for ritual which reflects the searching and learning of current worshipers.  Tradition is respected but it is not adopted merely for its own sake; worshipers explore the roots of their traditions and re-adopt rituals with renewed strength.  The Church of Saints Andrew and Matthew represents a combining of two parishes, one predominantly white, the other mainly African American.  The coming together of these parishes, similar yet different in their traditions, is consistent with Casson’s larger commitment to a broad spiritual community.  He himself is a member of a group based in India serving the poor and sick.

While rituals may always vary from religion to religion and within related denominations, while Jews and Christians do not agree on the Trinity, the critical question for each of us must be to what extent we allow these differences to shape our highest sense of spirituality and acts of humanity.  In his sermon, Casson lamented that throughout history persecuted groups have overwhelmingly failed to grasp the lesson of refraining from persecuting others.  In the lively and engaging forum following the service, it became clear that intra-denominational differences as to observance can become as hurtful as those between faiths.  The Jewish community has been suffering critically from such divisiveness. It was most encouraging to hear the voices in Wilmington affirming the need to focus on the spiritual and to strive to respect all expressions of faith.  Avodah joins in the belief that re-examining the source and intent of liturgy, and celebrating its ability to touch our souls, is one road toward a community that challenges itself to act with honor and compassion.  Avodah looks forward to continued involvement in the interfaith community wherever common ground – “holy ground” – is being sought and nurtured.

KGH 

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The Forgiveness Project – Its Beginning

In 1997 or 1998, sitting with Canon Lloyd Casson in the study at SAMS (The Episcopal Church of Saints Andrew and Matthew, in Wilmington, DE) when the Avodah Dance Ensemble was performing there, I asked if he had any ideas for a new project for the company.  Canon Casson suggested I read Desmond Tutu’s book No Future Without Forgiveness.  I don’t remember much else from our conversation but I do know I went out and bought the book and indeed, it did lead to a new piece of choreography and teaching opportunities for Avodah that ended up changing the direction of the dance company for me.

Before I get into how just a paragraph in No Future Without Forgiveness set me in motion, this week’s blog and next week’s blog share what I would say were the preliminary seeds that enabled this project to develop so powerfully.  This week’s blog is about an earlier piece on forgiveness, Selichot Suite, and next week’s blog, featuring a piece that Kezia Gleckman Hayman wrote for the Avodah Newsletter in 1997, will focus on Canon Casson and the depth of thought he brought to us.

Selichot Suite was commissioned by Temple Beth El in Jersey City to be included in the Selichot Service that year, 1987, ten years before my conversation with Canon Casson.  At the time, Murray and I were living in Jersey City and were members of the congregation.  In Jewish Reform congregations, a Selichot service is held the Saturday night before Rosh Hashanah, usually late in the evening.  The word “selichot” means forgiveness and the prayers are the same as those recited on Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement.  Rabbi Bruce Block and Cantor Peter Halpern collaborated with us and we danced to Cantor Halpern’s chanting of the prayers.

We set four parts of the service to dance, integrating them at the time each prayer was recited in the service.  The first one, Hanshamah Lakh (“The Soul is Yours”), used very slow, meditative, rocking and lilting walks entering into the sacred space.  The piece was beautifully sung by Cantor Halpern.  The choreography of the next piece, Hashivenu,didn’t work very well in the first performance except for an ending circle.  The ending circle reminded me of a a piece I had choreographed before.  It was the last section in a piece called Shevit Ahim Gam Yahad (“Behold how good it is when brothers dwell together”).  This was a piece that I had choreographed in the late 70’s to music of Lucas Foss.  It didn’t stay in the repertory long but I loved the ending section and realized it would fit beautifully to Hashivenu.  I substituted it for the original choreography for Hashivenu in the next performance and loved seeing  it as part of Selicot Suite.

The third piece was actually danced to a poem that I must have originally found in the Gates of Forgiveness prayer book.  I was so pleased to have found it online as I was beginning to write this blog.  It is by Denise Levertov.  The dancers recited it as they danced:

Something is very gently, 
invisibly, silently, 
pulling at me-a thread 
or net of threads ….

Here’s a link to read the entire poem.

https://allpoetry.com/The-Thread

I found this poem so lovely and so representative of feelings related to the search for finding one’s spiritual center or home. Rereading it now I still find it very meaningful. 

The last section of the piece was danced to the prayer V’al kulam.  There is a traditional gesture of striking one’s chest softly with one’s fist, which accompanies the related Al Chet prayer, and we used variations of this movement in the piece.  We also used movements of falling to the floor, and a dancer falling into the arms of others, for this deeply strong forgiveness prayer.

The dance company had just gone through a major change in dancers and I see in the Newsletter of September 1987 that there were seven dancers listed as performing that season.  I think several of them were only with the company a short time. The original choreography was for seven dancers but by the next time that we performed the piece, it was revised for four dancers, the usual number of dancers in the company.

Selichot Suite was performed fairly regularly in Selichot services over the next 10 years.  While several of the performances were in the NY area (Tenafly and Scarsdale) several bookings were out of town, with one in Bloomfield Hills, MI and another in Houston, TX.  Often a concert with some of our other repertory preceded the service.

I have only one video of the piece and it is a wonderful one danced beautifully by Kezia Gleckman Hayman, Elizabeth McPherson, Beth Millstein, and Carla Norwood. They are so elegantly ensembled that it was a true example of what I hoped would happen when I named the company Avodah Dance ENSEMBLE.  The video is from a program we did at Hebrew Union College – Jewish Institute of Religion on dance as part of liturgy.  Rabbi Rick Jacobs spoke and Cantor Benji Ellen Schiller beautifully accompanied the dancers.  Here’s a link to watch it.

These three pictures were snapshots taken from the video, and in a photo editing program I chose to do them in black and white.

From the opening of Hashivenu
Dancer standing – Kezia Gleckman Hayman, Dancer sitting – Elizabeth McPherson
Cantor Benjie Ellen Schiller is standing in back in black
From the closing of Hashivenu
Dancers from l to r, Kezia, Elizabeth, Carla Norwood and Beth Millstein (with her back to us) and Cantor Schiller.
From V’al kulam                                           
Dancers from l to r: Elizabeth, Kezia, Carla, Beth
Cantor Schiller is in the back.

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Dr. Edith Eva Eger’s The Choice: Embrace the Possible

While Facebook gets lots of criticism and has its drawbacks, one of its very positive things for me is connecting to the many dancers I’ve worked with from the time Avodah began in the early 70’s to the women who were part of the recent Healing Voices – Personal Stories  film Through the Door.  Lisa Watson, a member of Avodah in the 90’s, is a friend on Facebook and this past May 19th she posted about Dr. Edith Eva Eger (now 92) who wrote a book at age 90 about surviving the Holocaust.  The book is called The Choice: Embrace the Possible, and I thank you, Lisa, for bringing the book to my attention.

Recently I have tended to stay away from reading accounts of Holocaust survivors but this book held special interest for me because prior to her deportation to Auschwitz in 1944 at the age of 16, Eger had been training as a dancer and gymnast.  The post that Lisa shared on Facebook related to the fact that Dr. Eger was in the Netherlands to meet with the director, the actor and the ballerina who would be portraying her in a performance about the time that Dr. Mengele in Auschwitz asked her to dance for him.  There is a wonderful interview of her trip to the Netherlands which includes her watching a rehearsal and hugging the dancer who is portraying her.  The interview is a good account of her life and philosophy and I highly recommend it whether or not you plan on reading the book. https://dreditheger.com/2019/05/04/interview-with-eenvandaag-dutch-national-television/

I wonder, if I were still running Avodah, if I would choose to build a piece about Eger and the moment that she danced for Mengele, who had come into the barracks looking for a ballerina.  She found that the way she was able to dance for him was to close her eyes and pretend that she was at the Budapest opera house dancing Romeo and Juliet.  But it is not only that moment that I find gripping and would want to convey.  It is her overall philosophy and spirit, even in her 90’s, that I would want to capture (demonstrated by the fact that she ends her lectures with a high kick).

Among the many gems in the book is her recalling and giving examples over and over again of the inspirational words from her mother, spoken in the cattle car as they were being transported to Auschwitz. Her mother said to her that no one can take away from you what you think and feel inside.  The day they arrived her mother and father died but she and her sister survived.  Toward the end of the war, prisoners were marched to Austria.  She and her sister were found by a soldier on May 4, 1945. She was barely alive, sick and with a broken back.

We learn how she recovered, married and moved to the United States where she eventually studied Psychology, earning her Ph.D. and becoming an expert particularly with war trauma victims. 

She shares stories of some of her patients and how they help her work through her own challenges.  While physically free she shares the struggle to mentally free herself.  She relates this to her patients that are living in their own prisons, and so much of what she shares has relevancy to all of us about how we can live in a prison of our own making, choosing to be our own jailers.  A comment by her I noted, most likely when she was recently interviewed by Oprah, is to choose expression rather than depression.  It is what we keep secret and do not work through that causes our depression.  Here’s the link where you can watch the interview.

http://www.oprah.com/own-super-soul-sunday/dr-edith-eva-eger-the-choice

One of her mentors is Victor Frankel, another Holocaust survivor who wrote Man’s Search for Meaning.  She describes their friendship.

To conclude I want to share quotes from two sources. First, a review in The New York Times written in October 2017 ends with the reviewer’s comment, “I can’t imagine a more important message for modern times.  Eger’s book is a triumph and should be read by all who care about their inner freedom and the future of humanity.”  Second, the Nobel Peace Prize Laureate Desmond Tutu said:  “The Choice is a gift to humanity. One of those rare and eternal stories that you don’t want to end and that leave you forever changed. Dr. Eger’s life reveals our capacity to transcend even the greatest of horrors and to use that suffering for the benefit of others. She has found true freedom and forgiveness and shows us how we can as well.”

I am so glad to have read Dr. Eger’s book, which then led me to watch her various interviews. What a wonderful role model she is for those of us looking for people in their 80’s and 90’s leading rich meaningful lives.


Dr Eger holding her book. Photo from her website

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Heroic Deeds – Honoring Righteous Gentiles

In 1993 when I first visited Israel, I remember a very emotional day spent at Yad Vashem, the Holocaust Remembrance Center in Jerusalem.  Among its many remembrances, Yad Vashem honors over 11,000 Righteous Gentiles.  These are individuals who risked their own lives to save Jews during the Holocaust. I knew that someday I would choreograph a dance to honor them and that happened during the 2001-2002 season.  That was a particularly creative season since I choreographed three pieces on four talented dancers: Andrea Eisenstein, Danielle A. Smith, Jessica Sehested, and Kerri Thoma.  The Avodah Dance Ensemble had moved from a part-time dance company operating throughout the year to a full-time company operating for 16 weeks of the year.  The opportunity to work so intensively for about six hours each day was very stimulating.

As I began choreographing Heroic Deeds I began to realize that something else was motivating me as well.  Living in Jersey City, right across from the World Trade Center, I had witnessed, only a few months before, the collapse of the second tower as I stood about three blocks from our home and looked across the river with our neighbors. And I remembered that our youngest daughter had been working in the World Trade Center in 1993 when a truck bomb detonated inside the parking garage.  Her company was located on the 97thfloor and she had walked down.  She talked about how people were helping each other.  There were no lights and so people were counting stairs and eventually as she got lower the NYC Firemen were coming up and providing additional guidance. As I began choreographing Heroic Deeds I found I was not only thinking of the Righteous Gentiles who risked their lives but how people can help each other in emergency situations, such as what my daughter experienced, and of course of the many first responders on 9/11 who risked their lives.

Part of both the fun and the challenge of choreographing is finding just the right music.  I did, in a piece by the American composer Charles Ives.  In a review by Jennifer Dunning in The New York Times (April 10, 2002) of a concert we did at the 92ndStreet Y on the previous Sunday afternoon she pointed out, “Heroic Deeds distilled community need in a quartet as stark as its score by Ives.” 

Once I had the music and had begun choreographing with the collaboration of the dancers my attention turned to costumes. Finding gray tops and ¾ length pants in gray I decided to paint silver, black and lighter gray spots on them to symbolize ashes and destruction of property in an abstract way.

Tom Brazil, a dance photographer who had previously photographed Avodah, beautifully captured the energy of the piece. Here are some of my favorite photos, with the four dancers who helped to create the work. All of the following photos are by Tom Brazil and copyrighted by him.

From l. to r. Jessica Sehested, Kerri Thoma, and Danielle Smith
From l. to r. Danielle, Jessica, Andrea Eisenstein, Kerri
From l. to r. Jessica, Andrea, Kerri, and Danielle
From l. to r. Danielle, Kerri, Jessica and Andrea
From l. to r. Andrea, Jessica, Danielle

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Another Holocaust Piece, Based on the Writings of Primo Levi

Two blogs ago, I wrote about creating the 8-minute piece Kaddish.  It soon became a regular in our repertory, performed in concerts, Holocaust memorial programs, and on the bema before the Kaddish prayer.  Over the next fifteen years we were often invited to participate in Holocaust memorial programs, particularly in November around the time of Kristallnacht (“Night of Broken Glass”; see June 14, 2019 blog for explanation) and in late April or early May for Yom HaShoah (Holocaust memorial day, based on the Jewish calendar).  It wasn’t until 1996 that I choreographed the next piece that became a part of our Holocaust repertory. 

As long as I can remember, it was important to me that pieces related to the Holocaust be part of the Avodah Dance Ensemble’s repertory.  At the age of 12 or 13 I saw the original production of The Diary of Anne Frank on Broadway with Susan Strasberg as Anne Frank and Joseph Schildkraut as Otto Frank. It was during my first trip to New York City with my parents, when we saw several Broadway shows, The Diary of Anne Frank being the only drama.  I remember the evening well.  We had seats in the first row and I was mesmerized by the play and the performances.  I experienced the power of how theater can teach and emotionally engage one in learning.  After that I regularly read and learned more about the Holocaust and as I developed as a choreographer it was a natural next step to create pieces like I Never Saw Another Butterfly and Kaddish

The idea for the new piece, Shema, inspired by Primo Levi’s writing, came from Rabbi Oren Postrel.  I hunch that Rabbi Larry Raphael (of blessed memory) probably introduced us, knowing that Oren had a very strong background as a dancer who had seriously studied ballet and performed in the Oakland Ballet. Oren shared Primo Levi’s writing with me and soon we were developing a piece based on it.  Primo Levi (1919–1987)  was an Italian Jewish chemist, writer and Holocaust survivor. Much of what we used in our piece Shemacame from his best-known work, If This Is A Man, about his time as a prisoner at Auschwitz.

Primo Levi (1950’s) from Wikipedia

The choreography was not only inspired by Primo Levi’s poetry but also by the Broadway play Bent, written by Martin Sherman. The play, which I saw in 1980, revolves around the persecution of gays in Nazi Germany. I found the second act particularly powerful with its stillness and senseless repetition as the two main characters move a pile of stones from one side of the stage to the other. When it came time to choreograph Shema I wanted to use some kind of repetition to hold the piece together. So throughout the whole piece the four dancers walk in a straight line back and forth across the stage in the back part of the performing area.  Each dancer steps out of the line to share their poem in words and movement and when done goes back into the line.  Jack Anderson in a review in The New York Times, May 31, 1997,  describes it well:

Shema effectively contrasted relentless pacing, representing concentration camp regimentation with sudden outburst, symbolizing the prisoners’ turbulent personal feelings.

From a video of the piece, April 15, 1996, performed by the dancers who helped to create it, in a Yom HaShoah Service at 
Hebrew Union College – Jewish Institute of Religion
Dancers from l. to r. Kezia Gleckman Hayman, Elizabeth McPherson, Beth Millstein, and Carla Armstrong
Here’s the link to the video

As in the earlier Holocaust piece I Never Saw Another Butterfly, the dance is done in silence and to the voices of the dancers. 

As I was writing this blog I came across an editorial in The New York Times published on May 26th (2019).  It was written by the Editorial Board, which “represents the opinions of the board, its editor and the publisher.  It is separate from the newsroom and the Op-Ed section.” The editorial clearly states that anti- Semitism is sharply on the rise and gives statistics for the increase in Germany and France in particular and also points out that it is not only coming from the far right, but also from the Islamists and far left.  The authors mention the increase here in the United States, and end by saying: 

Speak up, now, when you glimpse evidence of Anti Semitism, particularly within your own ranks, or risk enabling the spread of this deadly virus.

It is with a deep sadness and concern I read this and realize the truth in what they are saying. I fear we are on the edge of a cliff right now and I echo that we all have a responsibility to speak up and not allow discrimination in any form.

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Remembering Estelle Sommers with Great Fondness

Last week I wrote about the company’s performance of Kaddish at a Central Synagogue Sabbath service in May 1985.  We dedicated that evening’s performance to Ben Sommers, who had been President of Capezio, and who had died that week.  I mentioned in the blog that Ben’s wife, Estelle Sommers, had told me afterwards how meaningful the service was.  She also told me that we should get together for lunch after things calmed down for her.  About a month or so later we had lunch together, and that began a very special friendship that strongly impacted both the Avodah Dance Ensemble and my life personally. 

Estelle, like Ben, was a dancewearspecialist and managed Capezio stores:

Sommers made her career in retail dancewear as a designer, business executive, and owner of various ventures. She revolutionized the field of fitness clothing by introducing a new fabric, Antron-Lycra/Spandex, into her innovative designs for Capezio’s bodywear.   
(https://jwa.org/encyclopedia/article/sommers-estelle-joan)

At some point either before our lunch or after she suggested that I reach out to and meet Linda Kent. She mentioned that Linda (then with The Paul Taylor Dance Company) was also interested in liturgical dance. I knew who Linda was and had great respect for her outstanding professional career, first with the Alvin Ailey Company from 1968–74, and then as a principal dancer with the Taylor Company from 1975.  I had often seen her perform.   Estelle sent Linda a similar kind of note, giving us information on how to contact each other.

Linda and I did get in touch, resulting in a personal friendship and professional collaboration. Linda created pieces and helped shape Interfaith programs for Avodah, guest taught at our workshops, and at times performed with the company (including filling in for Kezia when she broke her foot performing Let My People Go).  Linda also helped us find Avodah dancers by recommending students she knew from her position at Juilliard (where she had graduated in 1968 and joined the faculty in 1984), and she offered generous artistic and Board advice when Julie Gayer took over as Avodah’s Director.  Linda and I continue our long friendship today. (See photo in blog on Juilliard homecoming.  I will be writing more blogs later about Linda.)  Introducing Linda and me was very typical of Estelle, as she was one of the best networkers I have ever known.  In the same article I quoted above, Estelle was described as “one of the most enthusiastic advocates and patrons of dance,” sometimes referred to as the “empress of dance.” And I can affirm that indeed she was, for The Avodah Dance Ensemble.

Within a year of our meeting, Estelle suggested having a gathering at her apartment to introduce Avodah dancers and Board members to some of her influential dance friends. One very important contact we made that evening was Ted Bartwink.  Ted served as Trustee and Executive Director of The Harkness Foundation for Dance from 1968–2014.  The Harkness Foundation made annual contributions to most of the major dance venues in New York City.  Following that evening he came to at least one performance that I remember and for a number of years we received funding for our educational programs from the Harkness Foundation.

At Estelle’s request, I often served on honorary committees for benefit events.  I was always thrilled to see my name on a list with so many outstanding dance and theatre people.  Murray and I enjoyed attending the events and below is the back of an invitation for a 1991 International Committee for The Dance Library of Israel which honored Stephanie French, the Vice President of Corporate Contributions and Cultural Affairs for the Philip Morris Management Corporation, a major supporter of dance in the New York City area.

Back of invitation for the Dance Library of Israel Event

Earlier that same year Estelle Sommers was honored with the 9thAnnual Dance Notation Bureau Award and I was thrilled to be on that Honorary Committee.  I end this blog with this lovely picture of Estelle.

Estelle Sommers

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“Kaddish” Danced as a Memorial in Two Shabbat Services

A few people have asked me if I am planning to turn the blog into a book.  No, I am not.  What I am finding most meaningful is the immediate input I get in the comment section or in personal emails.  This week’s blog is a result of a comment that Elizabeth McPherson made in response to last week’s blog.  She wrote:  “Also remember performing Kaddish at a memorial service for Yitzhak Rabin after he was assassinated. That was a very intense experience.”  Elizabeth and I emailed back and forth figuring out more about the event. I think we now have a very good picture of how we came to perform Kaddish as a memorial piece for Yitzhak Rabin.

Rabin died on Saturday, November 4, 1995, and it was on November 10th at Rodeph Shalom Congregation that Avodah danced the piece in his memory.  Avodah had a strong relationship with Rodeph Shalom (located on 83rdStreet just off of Central Park in New York City).   Let My People Go was performed there in 1989 (the piece’s opening season), and during the mid-90’s two Avodah dancers and I would lead dance midrash classes in the religious school.  In 1995, we had been booked – many months before Rabin’s assassination – to be part of the November 10th Sabbath service.  On November 9thand 10th, synagogues and Jewish organizations often do programs remembering Kristallnacht.  The U.S. Holocaust Museum provides the following description of Kristallnacht on its website:

Kristallnacht, literally, “Night of Crystal,” is often referred to as the “Night of Broken Glass.” The name refers to the wave of violent anti-Jewish pogroms which took place on November 9 and 10, 1938. This wave of violence took place throughout Germany, annexed Austria, and in areas of the Sudetenland in Czechoslovakia recently occupied by German troops.Kristallnacht owes its name to the shards of shattered glass that lined German streets in the wake of the pogrom—broken glass from the windows of synagogues, homes, and Jewish-owned businesses plundered and destroyed during the violence. (https://encyclopedia.ushmm.org/content/en/article/kristallnacht)

Avodah was set to perform three Holocaust pieces in the November 10th service:  I Never Saw Another Butterfly (which I have written about before), Shema, based on the writings of Primo Levi (and which will be the subject of an upcoming blog), and Kaddish. 

Elizabeth has kept her datebooks and has excellent notes of when she was at Rodeph Shalom rehearsing the piece and when she had to be there for the performance. She also commented:

I do remember that there was a huge audience attending the service at Rodeph Shalom on Nov. 10th.  It was overwhelming, but also felt really important to be there in that space performing at that moment. 

Thank you, Elizabeth, for keeping those datebooks!

Picture from Rodeph Shalom’s website.  Usually, to provide room for the dancers to move, the center podium was taken off the bema or moved to the side, and any movable chairs were also removed from the beta.

About 10 years earlier, on May 9, 1985, we had danced Kaddish in another memorial service.  That time it was at Central Synagogue on Lexington Avenue, for Ben Sommers, who had died that week.  When we arrived at the Synagogue to begin rehearsing and staging the three pieces we would be doing, the rabbi told us about Ben’s death and that it was appropriate that we were there that evening, as Ben had been the President of Capezio (the famous dancewear company) from 1940 to the time of his death.  (Ben had also been a remarkable supporter of dance, including creating the Capezio Foundation, and the Capezio Award for lifetime achievement in dance).  We ended our discussion by saying that the dances that evening and particularly Kaddish would be danced in Ben’s memory.

I remember speaking about Kaddish, and Rick Jacobs may have also spoken, since he danced the opening Kaddish solo.  During the Oneg Shabbat after the service, Ben’s widow, Estelle Sommers (1919–1994), came up to me and said how meaningful the service was.

For the company, Kaddish was always a powerful piece to perform, but on these two occasions, it was indeed particularly meaningful.

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Adding Kaddish to Avodah’s Repertory

 It’s February 5, 1981, and we are premiering a new piece in Avodah’s repertory for a Holocaust Memorial Program at The Savannah College of Art and Design. It is part of a program entitled “Light Through The Darkness,” which has been organized and planned by Congregation Mickve Israel for February 5ththrough 12th.  It is part of a three-part program which includes a dance performance, an art exhibit, and a lecture by a prominent collector.  We have decided to create a new piece for the program, to the first eight minutes of Leonard Bernstein’s “Kaddish” Symphony.  

Poster from the performance

This was not our first performance in Savannah.  This was our third. An article on February 4,1981, in the Georgia Gazettesums up our special relationship with Savannah very well: 

The company has performed on several occasions to standing-room-only crowds in Savannah, and Tucker credits Rabbi Rubin (Saul Rubin) with encouraging her efforts during the company’s early years.

The first time we performed in Savannah was in March 1976 using female dancers from the congregation and bringing a male dancer from Tallahassee. I went in a week before and totally enjoyed my time there working with the dancers, who were lovely. Temple Mickve Israel is an old congregation with an historic sanctuary.  It is located on a beautiful square, and a March 17, 1976 article in City Beat mentions that “while traffic circled about the verdant oasis, the dancers kicked off their shoes, and in leotards and jeans ran through their paces, barefoot in the park.” The publicity, with several articles and pictures of myself and composer Irving Fleet, was excellent for the Friday night service.  In fact, when Irving joined me to rehearse the musicians and we had some time off to stroll along the river walkway and wandered in a shop, the owner recognized us from the newspaper. The Friday night service was indeed packed and standing-room-only.  We performed Sabbath Woman and In Praise as part of a creative service that Rabbi Saul Rubin wrote.

Photograph of the Temple on stationery

We returned to Savannah in the fall of 1976 to repeat the two pieces as part of a regional Biennial Convention of the Southeast Union of American Hebrew Congregations (now called Union of Reform Judaism).  That helped us become better known with congregations in the Southeastern part of the country.  (My favorite memory from the performance in the Shabbat service is that I met a cousin and his wife that I hadn’t seen in years.)

We had a special relationship with Rabbi Saul Rubin and Temple Mickve Israel and I was really pleased to have an opportunity to be part of the Light Through The Darkness Holocaust Program.  I also liked the fact we would have a good space to perform in at the Savannah College of Art and Design.  This was a great opportunity to create a new piece to go with I Never Saw Another Butterfly.  I remember listening to lots of music and giving much thought to what to create.  I stumbled across Bernstein’s “Kaddish” Symphony and loved the first 8 minutes. The piece opens with about a four-minute reading by a solo voice, with some music.  The recording I first found, and originally choreographed to, featured Leonard Bernstein doing the vocal part.  So I created the solo on Michael Bush, the male dancer in the Tallahassee company at that time.  What follows the vocal section is a wonderful burst of music during which the solo dancer joins the other dancers in one of my favorite phrases, which we often used for auditions over the years.  With hands fisted, the dancers rise slowly as a group into a suspended relevé in simple parallel, from which they explode into a skip and leap, and a fan kick into a knee walk into a tilted attitude turn.

The performance in Savannah went well but more important to me was that the new piece Kaddish became a signature part of the repertoire for over twenty years, regularly performed before the Kaddish prayer in services and ending many concerts.  Shortly after that first performance I discovered a recording with a female voice (Bernstein’s wife, Felicia Montealegre) doing the part, and when I returned to New York, I used that recording and taught the solo to Lynn Elliott who did a magnificent job with the part.  

We used the female recording from that point on except when Rick Jacobs performed the solo.  (I obtained the permissions I needed to use the music and each year reported the number of performances so I could pay the appropriate royalty.)

Over the years so many wonderful dancers performed the solo part, and it was great fun for me to see how each dancer made it their own.  Kezia continued to teach the group section to new dancers even when she was no longer in the company.  She adds the following note: 

            One of my proudest moments, both as Assistant Rehearsal Director and as ensemble member, was during a performance at an arts festival, when the music suddenly disappeared in the middle of the group section of Kaddish – a tricky section with changing tempos.  We continued dancing without pause.  Our ensemble work was so reliable that when the music resumed, we were exactly where we should have been, as if nothing unusual had happened.

            Another one of my most memorable performances was in that same festival, a rain-or-shine, mainly-outdoor event.  Let it never be said that we ever performed with less than our full focus, technique, heart and soul – not even when we performed under that LEAKING tent top, for that ONE audience member sitting under his umbrella in the pouring rain to watch us. We laugh at these memories, like other touring mishaps, but they don’t detract from the pleasure of being part of such festivals.  This particular occasion also gave us the rare opportunity to enjoy performances by other artists, including most memorably the lovely music ensemble Voice of the Turtle.

Lynn Elliott inKaddish. Photo by Amanda Kreglow.

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Synchronicity at Play – Spring Trip to NYC (Part Two: Martha Graham Company)

In my last blog, I began to write about my recent trip to New York City.  In a later blog I’ll share more about the trip, in particular about a workshop that longtime friend and collaborator Regina Ress and I did at New York University’s Forum on Theater and Health.  For now, keeping with this blog’s title of synchronicity with my  recently published blogs,  I now jump to my last night in NYC and attending the closing night of the Martha Graham Company’s April 2–14, 2019 performances at the Joyce.  I had debated about even getting tickets for the performance, but finally, a few days before I left home I went online and purchased a ticket for Program C.  I mainly selected this program because I had Sunday evening free and there was a piece by Pam Tanowitz in the program. I had never seen any of Tanowitz’s work and I was aware that she was getting lots of rave reviews.

Write-ups about her, as well as her biography, interested me, particularly reports  that she was known “for her unflinchingly post-modern treatment of classical dance vocabulary” (http://pamtanowitzdance.org/bio). This spring she was not only creating a work for the Martha Graham Company but also for The New York City Ballet. That is indeed impressive and so I made sure to select a program that included the New York Premiere of her piece Untitled (Souvenir) for the Graham Company. Also on the program were two Graham classics, Errand into the Maze (created in 1947) and Chronicle(1936). Another world premiere by two choreographers who were totally new to me, Maxine Doyle and Bobbi Jene Smith, completed the program.

When I bought the ticket I felt disappointed that one of my very favorite Graham pieces, Diversion of Angels, was not being performed that evening.  But I made my decision based on seeing the Tanowitz piece, as very few choreographers are able to cross over from ballet to modern commissions as she does.

So off I went to spend my last night in NYC at the Graham concert.  The opening piece, Errand into the Maze, was one that I remembered seeing years ago (on one of my return trips to NYC) performed by one of my favorite teachers and Graham performers, Helen McGehee, in the leading female role.  I don’t remember who performed the male role with her. I do remember her fierceness and passion in dancing.  It appears that the piece had not been in the Graham repertory for 15 years when it was brought back in 1968 and Clive Barnes wrote a review:

The choreography – it dates from 1947 and has not been seen in New York for 15 years – wonderfully mixes the swift and angular lightness of the female with the heavy solemnity of the male.  Set against the bones of Isamu Noguchi’s skeletal setting, and the sonorities of Gian Carlo Menotti’s score, the work powerfully conveys the archaic mythical pattern of despair, hope and achievement.

As the female, danced first of course, by Graham herself, Helen McGehee, as intense as a flickering flame, possesses just the sense of nervousness despair and faith this view of Ariadne demands and Clive Thompson’s Minotaur-Thesus, both ponderous yet buoyant, is the perfect stolid partner to her impetuous neuroticism.  (The New York Times,October 26, 1968) 

Errand Into The Maze opened the concert and I was pleasantly surprised at the performance it was given by Charlotte Landreau and Lloyd Mayor.   A rush of positive emotion filled me as a dance vocabulary and approach I so love was beautifully performed.  I have always loved how Graham turned to classical mythology for inspiration for her choreography and I remember writing a fairly long paper for an English class in High School on Graham’s use of mythology.  It received an A and I held onto it for a long time but at some point, along with programs that I had kept for years, it got thrown out when we were cleaning out our papers for one of our many moves.

The second piece on the program was Deo by guest choreographers Doyle and Smith and frankly I don’t remember anything about it. Following intermission came the Tanowitz piece.  I could clearly see how she was manipulating the Graham technique in a new way and found that rather interesting but that was really all I got from the piece.  Disappointment was my overall reaction.  I can see why critics like what she is doing and from an intellectual point of view it was fascinating but it didn’t emotionally move me in any way. 

The last piece, Chronicles took my breath away.  It is in three parts and I was familiar with the piece because Deborah Hanna, a dancer who worked with Avodah for 7 years and with whom I continue to keep in contact, had danced in one of the sections of the piece when she was in the Martha Graham Ensemble (a junior company of Graham in the 1980’s and early 90’s).  I don’t remember getting to see Deborah in it but did know that it was being revived.  The original program notes were included in the Joyce program:

Chronicle does not attempt to show the actualities of war; rather does it, by evoking war’s images, set forth the fateful prelude to war, portray the devastation of spirit which it leaves in its wake, and suggest an answer.

The first Part, titled “Spectre – 1914,” was powerfully danced by Xin Ying.  She managed the huge black and red shroud with power and was a good start to what followed. Section II is entitled “Steps in the Street (Devastation – Homelessness – Exile)” and is a powerful group dance that along with Section III, “Prelude to Action (Unity – Pledge to the Future),” shows the female members of the company in an excellent light.  

A review by Joanne DiVito for the LA Dance Chronicle of a performance just a month before the one I saw describes the second section wonderfully:

The second movement Steps in the Street begins with one soul, played by the incredible Anne Souder dressed in black.  She backs onto the stage; step, drag, hesitate, step drag, hesitate, all in silence.  This remarkable section, comments on the devastation of people caught in war. The stunning use of tiny runs, continuous jumps, and reconfigurations, static against kinetic, calls for the dancers to defy gravity and rise to all manner of challenges which this piece demands.  Their sudden heroic prowess surprises and adds to the tension and release of this remarkable piece.   (https://www.ladancechronicle.com/grahams-brilliant-legacy-lives-today-with-eilbers-leadership/)

But it is the last section that totally took my breath away.  The women’s leaping and repetition of strong Graham phrases became heroic and so powerful that it was no surprise that the audience (a wonderful mix of young and old) rose to its feet shouting and applauding loudly, to acknowledge the beautiful performance.  That kind of energy we rarely see in dance anymore – and what a treat!

Afterwards, as I ran into several contemporary fellow dancers in the lobby, one remarked, “That lady [referring to Graham] certainly had talent.”  And indeed she did, for it was Graham’s two pieces, not the newly commissioned ones, that stood out.  And it was a wonderful way for me to finish my trip to NYC!!

The Program from the Graham concert.  

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