Choreographing Based on Ritual and Research

Spring 1974.  Excited by the strong response to our first piece “In Praise” I am eager to do another piece with Irving that would fit into the Sabbath Service.  Having a limited education in liturgy, I find myself reading and learning as much as I can.  I zero in on the Friday night candlelighting gesture of circling the flames and covering the eyes.  What does it mean? Where did it come from? I start experimenting, myself, with using the gesture when I light the candles.  (Now… to be upfront, I was not very observant and it was as much out of curiosity as any kind of spiritual desire or need that I found myself lighting the candles and saying the blessing on Friday night.)

I soon showed Irving the gesture, with much enthusiasm, one early evening in his backyard.  We decided to move forward on creating a piece related to welcoming the Sabbath. Research continued with the help of Rabbi Garfein. In fact, we dedicated the first performance, November 9, 1974 to him.  That was also the first official performance of The Avodah Dance Ensemble, a part of the newly formed Avodah, Inc. (See this earlier blog to learn more about this.)

As Irving and I researched the idea of welcoming the Sabbath the piece began to take shape into several sections.  Its opening was expressed in a statement we wrote about the piece for the first performance: “The image of Women, be she Mother, Daughter, or Grandmother, with eyes covered, praying over the Sabbath lights, while her family silently gathers around, inspired the dance and music of our new piece.”

I found the gesture of circling the flame and covering the eyes to be a very personal one and I imaged that each person did it in their own way with their own thoughts.  The piece opens with three women each doing the gesture in their own way and conveying their emotional response in movement.  They come together doing circular movement putting the hand gesture into the whole body and the feet. As I choreographed I realized I was drawing on my composition classes with Louis Horst in making sure each movement related to the theme I had introduced. Helen Tamiris’s use of gesture as a starting point was also a key influence. Long after the piece was no longer a part of the repertory, we often included the movement ritual of circling and covering the eyes as part of workshops.  Kezia has said about this, “In all the years I was in the company, I always loved and was intrigued by workshop participants’ explanations of how precisely they did the candlelighting gesture, where they had learned it, and what they thought of when doing it.”

In our research we learned that the Sabbath is often referred to as a bride and that a 16thcentury hymn still used in most services, “Lecha dodi likras kallah” expresses the notion of embracing the Sabbath as a bride and even of men dressing as a bridegroom going out to welcome the Sabbath.  As our piece evolved we introduced a dancer as the bride and a male dancer to embrace her in a duet.

Many years later, living in the New York area, I occasionally enjoyed attending Friday night services at B’nai Jeshurun and there following “Lecha dodi” congregants fill the aisles with joyful dancing.  But that was not at all what I grew up with and while some communities have begun to do this it is still pretty rare, at least in the United States.

So on Friday, November 9ththe Avodah Dance Ensemble gave its first official performance. The company consisted of five dancers. Judith Bloomberg, Hillary Gal and I opened as the three women. Corrine Levy was the bride with Jack Clark representing the bridegroom or man who greets the Sabbath.

Hillary Gal and I rehearsing “Sabbath Woman.” Photo by Tallahassee Democrat.

Living in Tallahassee near Florida State University’s excellent dance department I was able to draw dancers from there and take classes to keep myself in shape.  Dr. Nancy Smith, the head of the FSU dance department, was very welcoming and even helped by providing rehearsal space.

Reflecting back on those first few years in Tallahassee I realize I had come a long way from the first year as a faculty wife when I felt alone, unable to find a job. In fact in an article in the Tallahassee Democratdated September 1, 1974 I am quoted as saying “It was really bleak. I couldn’t find a job.  Nothing happened for a year, and I was going berserk.”

I did focus on writing my dissertation, and I was lucky that my major professor had moved from the University of Wisconsin to Florida State University’s Drama Department.  I was able to return to the University of Wisconsin and defend my dissertation in 1973 officially becoming Dr. Tucker. Now there were two Dr. Tucker’s in our household, Murray with his Ph.D. in Economics and I with mine in Theatre/Speech Communication.

I was also learning how to create my own opportunities and by the fall of 1974 I felt totally a part of the community with various dance projects besides Avodah and plans underway to build my own dance studio.

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First Out of Town Performance: “In Praise” in Pittsburgh

I grew up in the Jewish Reform Temple of Rodef Shalom in Pittsburgh when the esteemed scholar Dr. Solomon Freehof was the senior rabbi there.  As I mentioned earlier, his book had influenced the creation of In Praise.  He was a bit intimidating for me and it was the younger Rabbi, Dr. Walter Jacob, that I got to know as a teen at Rodef Shalom and who in fact married Murray and me. Rodef Shalom has had a prominent history in the development of Reform Judaism in the United States and here is a link where you can learn more.  At some point on a visit to Pittsburgh probably in the summer of 1973 I mentioned to Walter what I had been doing in Tallahassee and he suggested bringing In Praise to Pittsburgh.  Hum… that seemed really a neat option as the sanctuary of Rodef Shalom was inspiring and elegant and it would be a challenge to set our piece on the bema as part of a service.

One of Rodef Shalom’s weekly services was on Sunday morning and Walter suggested that as the ideal time to weave In Praise into the service. Since I still had dance contacts in Pittsburgh, I decided that I would use local dancers and Irving could work with the professional choir that sang regularly at Rodef Shalom.  During the summer of 1973 I had also spent time visiting my good friend and former Pittsburgher Lynne Wimmer, who had joined the Repertory Dance Company (RDT) in Salt Lake City, Utah upon her graduation from Juilliard in 1968.  I decided I wanted to take a two-week workshop RDT offered and do some hiking and hanging out with Lynne.

Before I continue with In Praise in Pittsburgh, let me give you a little bit of background on my friendship with Lynne.  Both of our families, along with Murray’s, belonged to a Swim Club in Pittsburgh and we hung at the pool.  Lynne and I got to know each other then and particularly when I had moved back to Pittsburgh to marry Murray following two years at Juilliard. Lynne was then going into her junior year.  She was very serious about her dancing and I suggested that she audition for Juilliard in her junior year and if accepted she could take summer school and skip her senior year. I knew this was possible since a classmate of mine, Martha Clarke, had done exactly that.  Anyway Lynne auditioned, got in and entered Juilliard that fall.  We have kept in contact over the years both as friends and dance collaborators.  There will be other blogs I will be writing in which Lynne plays an important part.

When a date was set with Rodef Shalom I reached out to Lynne to see if she could join me and perform in In Praise.  Since the date was in January when RDT was touring in the Midwest she was able to take a week’s leave of absence and perform with us.  I don’t remember how exactly I got the other five dancers, and I only recognize one other name:  Martha Amper, whom I had worked with quite a few years earlier when she was in high school. (I’ll definitely do a blog on the poetry program I did with her and 6 or 7 other students back in 1965.) Most likely, I reached out to my Pittsburgh modern dance teacher, Jeanne Beaman, and asked her for suggestions.  I had studied seriously with Jeanne all through high school and am deeply grateful to her for the strong training and inspiration I received from her.

It was great fun and challenging to spend the week in Pittsburgh working with the dancers, teaching them sections of In Praise, and making adjustments to the choreography to fit the bema which was long and narrow.  The sanctuary seats a total of 1200 (900 on the first floor and 300 in the balcony) and I was particularly aware of wanting to take in the full congregation during a quiet solo I did to the prayer “May the Words of My Mouth.”  Lynne helped me with the solo, coaching me to fully extend my hands in several key places. That really helped and in a receiving line after the performance (it’s a tradition that the Rabbis form this line and any invited guest speaker join them) a number of people asked to see my hands, remarking how big they looked on the bema.  THANK YOU LYNNE!! IT WORKED!!

JoAnne Tucker and Lynne Wimmer on the bema, in front of the ark at Rodef Shalom. Photo by Morris Berman for the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette.

In a recent phone conversation with Lynne I asked her what she remembered about the performance. She shared that she had a funny feeling dancing on the bema, as she had grown up in a conservative congregation and it felt strange to be dancing on the bema as if on a stage.  Her comment did not surprise me at all and over the years the approach I had of integrating dance into the service was both welcomed and questioned.  Martha Graham’s classic comment that “wherever a dancer stands is holy ground” has resonated for me since I was a teenager and so why not dance on the bema.

Irving arrived mid-week and as he worked with the professional choir the piece began to flow together.  Choreographic changes and music timing were polished and in a letter following In Praise Dr. Jacob wrote, “Until I watched you work with the dancers individually in the morning and on Wednesday evening, I had no idea how much detailed preparation was necessary.”

Top picture: Irving playing the piano while we work out a musical coordination.

Bottom picture: Irving working with the professional musicians.

The costumes shown in the above picture of Lynne and me were just too busy for RodefShalom’s elegant sanctuary. Something simpler was needed and so white leotards with matching white skirts and beige tights underneath became the new costumes for the piece.  The male dancer wore a white tank top with brown tights.

Nice publicity in both the Pittsburgh Jewish Chronicle and the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette provided a filled sanctuary for our January 27thservice. I remember very vividly that as the music began for In Praise and we were in place in the aisles, the sun suddenly burst through the long stained glass windows providing the most amazing lighting.

A week later in the Jewish Chronicle, Milton K. Susman wrote about his experience, in his column entitled “As I See It” (February 7, 1974):

In these days when spiritual uplift is as rare as birdsong in January, one savors the experience at Rodef Shalom Temple last week when the Congregation offered a service in the guise of a dance cantata titled “In Praise.” It was a moving and meaningful occasion in that the cantata was a highly religious tableau without resort to religious formalism.

            “In Praise” infused the litanies of the “Shema,” “May the Words…” and “Thou shalt love the Lord, thy God…” with the grace and beauty of movement against a musical background that set the mood and etched every emotion.  This innovative approach to prayer has the virtues of perspective and the quickened pulse, for the observer can hardly escape the encompassing effects of sight and sound on those supplications that are as familiar to the worshipper as his living room.

            “In Praise” gives to prayer a whole new dimension of joyfulness and humility and for a lot of days to come the afterglow of Florida-based Dr. Irving Fleet’s music and Dr. JoAnne Tucker’s choreography (she is the daughter-in-law of former Pittsburgh sportscaster Joe Tucker) will remain as a kind of haunting benediction.

            Those who went and witnessed have to be grateful to the Alexander A. and Cecilia Bluestone Music Fund for making the cantata possible and to Dr. Walter Jacob, rabbi of Rodef Shalom, for surrendering his pulpit to a happening that was couched in velvet.

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“In Praise” – Integrating Dance into a Sabbath Service

It is 1972.  I am sitting in a hospital room in Tallahassee, Florida visiting Irving who has recently been hit in the eye with a tennis ball.  His eyes are covered but he is alert and expected to be fine.  His wife Anita has called and suggested I visit him as she is off to some kind of meeting and thought he might enjoy company.  It is several weeks after Tradition and we haven’t gotten very far in any thoughts of what kind of musical we might collaborate on.

Irving asks me, “What do you think about God?”  I make a face and am glad his eyes are covered.  “I don’t think much about God,” I reply and then continue, explaining I don’t find much meaning in going to temple or sitting through most services.  It just doesn’t connect for me.  He suggests something like well… it is maybe the music that resonates for him.  Before the visit is over we have decided to explore parts of the service in music and dance.  Well that is a bit of a surprise for me… but I’m not opposed.

Over the next few weeks we begin to study the parts of the service, and we think the “Barchu”might be a good starting place.  We discuss the moments in our own lives where we feel close to “God.”  I find it is hard for me to write this 45 years later because my feminist nature no longer includes the word “God” in it.  Even the words “Goddess” or the Jewish word for the feminine side of God – the Shekhina – don’t really reflect my current thinking. Most likely I would express the idea that it is in dance, and in being an artist, that I connect to a deeper place in myself and to others.  That said… let me get back to sharing where I was at in 1972.

It soon became apparent that the ideal premiere of our dance/music “cantata” based on key parts of the traditional Jewish service would be for the dedication of a new sanctuary for Temple Israel planned for the following spring.  That would give us plenty of time to develop the piece and to rehearse with members of the congregation and community.  Together we developed a libretto and then Irving got busy writing the music and I got busy choreographing.

It had been quite a while since I had performed so I soon began taking classes again. Florida State University’s Dance Department proved to be an ideal place to get back in shape. Unfortunately I thought I was in better shape then I was and leaped a bit too high and in the landing severed my Achilles tendon.  It proved to be just a few months’ setback and luckily I had driven myself to the hospital in time so that surgery was avoided and I was able to have the repair done by a foot-to-thigh cast.  During this time I remember working with two young community members, Brian Berkowitz and Terri McOuat, in the family room of our house, choreographing for them, from my place on the sofa, a duet that became part of the “Barchu” section expressing the love between two people.  Once the cast was removed, I had excellent physical therapy and got back to class… being more realistic about my technical dance ability.

Brian Berkowitz and Terri McOuat rehearsing duet from In Praise. Photo by Tallahassee Democrat, 1973

The program notes shared our thoughts:

In Praise is our statement in music, dance, and words of some of our feelings about God and the spirit of Judaism.  We have selected essential parts of the traditional synagogue service as our framework.  In the “Barchu” we see God in man and nature. The “Shema” depicts the strong historical roots of Judaism. “May the Words of Our Mouth” is a moment of personal prayer.  The “Adoration” expresses mankind’s search for self-understanding and fulfillment.

Eight members of the Temple community sang in the piece, including Irving’s wife Anita and my husband Murray.  Reuben Capelouto, Tevye from the production of Tradition, along with Irving’s brother Edwin also were part of the chorus. Some 40 years later, one of the singers, Alicia Novey (now Alicia Smith), sent me an email that she was living in Santa Fe where I now live.  We are now good friends, each having changed in our individual ways from the time of In Praise yet feeling a very strong connection to each other.

Four dancers joined me.  All four had limited dance training but total enthusiasm and willingness to participate.

There were many things I learned from this experience that served me well as I continued with Avodah.  The first thing was how hard it was for a rabbi to change the furniture on the bema.  And for dance to work we need space to move. After much discussion it ended up that we did two performances of In Praise.  The first performance – for the actual dedication ceremony – limited furniture was moved.  However, a week later we had a clear bema so that the dance was larger and could be fully seen.  Over the years of integrating dance into the Friday night Reform  service this became a regular challenge.  I got better and better at finding ways to reassure the various rabbis that rearranging the bema would be OK (and that it would be best if temple officers were not sitting directly behind kicking dancers in a tight space) and that the congregation would accept the temporary changes.  I even learned to quote Biblical text about sacred space to make my point.

Ten months later an article appeared in Reform Judaism (which went to all congregation members of Reform temples throughout the United States) describing the performance:

Tallahassee Congregation Dedicates

 New Sanctuary with Creative Dance Cantata

 The dedication of a new sanctuary is a joyous and precious event requiring a ceremony to fit the occasion.

Temple Israel of Tallahassee, Florida, dedicated its new house of worship with a magnificent dance cantata entitled “In Praise.” The work, conceived and written by Dr. Irving Fleet and Dr. JoAnne Tucker, dramatically proclaimed its authors’ feelings about God and Judaism. “Who is God?” asks one character. “God is some precious moments,” comes the reply.

The cantata was part of a regular worship service at the temple, enhancing the service through song, dance, and narrative.  Beginning with the Barchu, the call to worship, the sights and sounds of a singing chorus, piano and organ, four dancers, and musical soloists lifted the congregation above the everyday into the spiritual realm:

          From God comes all of life.
          He is everywhere and everything
          He is some very precious moments—
          The sound of the woods,
          The sun and the rain,
          The sounds of a voice,
          To feel and to touch.
          Praised be the Lord forever and ever.

 Dance segments of “In Praise” portrayed such themes as love for nature, the love of a man and a woman, and the tenderness of the mother-child relationship.  Other highlights included an affirmation of the oneness of the Jewish people:

          Through all ages
          A scattered people.
          These words bind us together,
          These words carry us through the years.
          And a hope for real concern among people:
          May the time not be distant
          When we see ourselves,
          When we know each other.
 

Anyone interested in recreating this work may write to Temple Israel….

And write they did.  Over the next year we received about 50 letters.  I think we were both stunned by the strong interest.  In the next blog I will write about our first performance out of town, in my hometown, Pittsburgh.

JoAnne in the “May the Words” solo from In Praise. Photo by Evelyn Walborsky

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How the Avodah Dance Ensemble Got Its Name

It’s late summer 1974 and the events of the past two years are serving as motivation to find a structure to expand and formalize what clearly feels like the right direction for my dance talents at this time. I think I want to start a non-profit organization with the mission of expressing Jewish liturgy, text and history through dance and music.  Several people, among them my musical collaborator Irving Fleet, have agreed to be on the board and we already have a lawyer who is donating his services to get us going.  Now we need a name.

For two years Irving and I had been studying the Jewish Siddur (prayer book) as explained by the very prominent Rabbi Solomon B. Freehof, who had also been my childhood rabbi. His book The Small Sanctuary had been a wonderful introduction for us. Also helpful were discussions with Rabbi Stanley Garfein, of the Temple in Tallahassee, Florida where both of our families were members at the time.  One section of the Yom Kippur High Holiday service intrigued me because it was a retelling of Jewish history from creation to the sacred rituals done on Yom Kippur by the High Priest before the destruction of the Second Temple. It is called the Avodah Service and the word Avodah means “work” in modern Hebrew and “sacred work” in Biblical Hebrew.  In a meeting with Stanley he shared that the word was often used in a phrase: Avodah Sh’Balev meaning work of the heart!  All uses of the word Avodah fit for me.  Being a dancer and running a dance company is indeed WORK.  And in the context of what we had been doing for the previous year it felt like sacred work and work of the heart.  So the new organization would be called Avodah and the dance company The Avodah Dance Ensemble.  Adding the word Ensemble was especially important to me. Kezia just reminded me that I wrote about this in a 1989 Avodah Newsletter:

Back in 1974, when wrestling with a name for a dance company, I especially chose to include the word “ensemble” with Avodah. Ensemble—“a group of complementary parts that contribute to a single effect” – was the goal I had in mind, where the members of the dance company would balance each other and contribute dynamically to creating unity.

And indeed this proved to be very true over the years with an amazing group of dancers, musicians, writers, visual artists and storytellers sharing their talents.

But back to the beginning. My husband Murray and I moved to Tallahassee, Florida from Washington, DC in the summer of 1970.  Murray taught at Florida State University while I focused on settling the kids (then 1 ½ and  3 ½ years old) and writing my dissertation.  It was good fortune that my major professor from the University of Wisconsin, where I had done all my course work and taken exams, had also relocated to Tallahassee accepting an appointment in the Theatre Department.  Writing the dissertation was lonely and required all my perseverance skills and I was very glad that Joe Karioth was able to still work with me even though he was no longer on the Wisconsin faculty.  A year later I returned to Madison, to defend my dissertation entitled “The Use of Creative Dramatics as an Aid in Developing Reading Readiness with Kindergarten Children.”  Perhaps I will write more about Wisconsin and the work I did in Creative Dramatics, which naturally included a lot of creative movement, at a later time. Once the dissertation was done it became clear that there weren’t many academic teaching opportunities in Tallahassee and I would need to forge my own path.

Loving to teach and work with children in creative dramatics and movement, I focused on how I could build upon those interests.  With the encouragement and support of a friend, Carolyn Davis, I approached Temple Israel about whether I could direct dance and drama activities as part of their religious education program, and also use space in their building to teach regular modern dance and creative dramatics classes. And that is what I did and how I was asked by the sisterhood to be director of a mini-musical they wanted to do based on Fiddler on the Roof.

I agreed as long as I had a good musical director.  They had someone in mind right away.  I have saved the program from the mini-musical named “Tradition” and here is Irving Fleet’s bio:

Irving Fleet, our musical director, is an orthodontist who has always had a big interest in music.  He played the piano frequently as a student in Tallahassee schools and in college as a soloist and recitalist.  He was the first organist of Temple Israel and started playing for the congregation even before the present synagogue was built. He last appeared in Tallahassee as piano soloist with the Tallahassee Symphony Orchestra in 1963-64. Presently, his biggest area of interest is composing, and he has written a number of songs for voice and piano pieces. 

“Fiddler on the Roof” has always been a favorite show of mine, ever since I saw it on Broadway during its original run.  I have also always felt close to the production because I knew two original cast members. Sammy Bayes, a townsperson who later played the fiddler, was at Perry-Mansfield Performing Arts Camp the same summer I was there and we had both been in a piece choreographed by Helen Tamiris. Sue Babel, who played Grandma Tzeitel, had been at Connecticut College Summer Program in Dance the same summer I was there.

With the script having been adapted to run about half of the time of the original show, Irving and I faced our first task: casting the production.  Lots of members of the community showed up and I was particularly taken with Rueben Capelouto’s audition for Tevye.  Irving agreed that his audition was great but was worried about the fact Rueben stuttered.  I was shocked … I didn’t know him outside of just meeting him for the audition and he never stuttered in auditioning for Tevye.  Others also kept cautioning me that he would be a poor choice.  My instincts kept saying that he would be perfect and so he was cast and indeed he was quite wonderful.

Rueben Capelouto as Tevye.  Photo by Evelyn Walborsky

“Tradition” proved to be a wonderful community success and gave me an excellent opportunity to get to know members of the community.  Many of them would continue to play a role in Avodah’s history.  For example, Marianne Mendelson, a high schooler at the time, played one of Teyve’s younger daughters.  Years later, while living in the New York area, she became Avodah’s treasurer for a number of years, a supporter of the dance company and a very good friend.

In going through my files to write this blog I found this poem which I read to the cast and which best describes what this experience meant to me.

When rehearsals first began
There were shouts… cries
Sarcastic utterances
“I can’t do that
I’m not a professional
She’s crazy
I’ll never learn my lines!”
Expression of fears and apprehensions of the task that lay ahead.

We’ve come along way from those first weeks
Lines have been learned
Characters developed
Scenes added
Change after change made
Always our goal clearly in sight “A production to make the congregation proud.”

As director, the bulk of my task is done
Thursday nite, after final dress
I sat down, reflected
And made these notes
No matter what the final outcome, applause great or small,
There are certain thoughts which I have to share with this cast.

Each and everyone, from page turner, technical crew, villagers to Tevye,
Deserves praise for a job well done
Often I’ve been harsh
Critical and outspoken
Free with criticism
But limited with praise
Trying to fulfill my role as director, to push you as far as you can go.

The talent within this group is overwhelming
Beyond expectations
A challenge to work with
And watch develop so far
So.. to my professional crew, a special Equity card for everyone here.

Before reading the inscription on each of these cards
One last thought to share
Building a production
Creating a show
Is learning to live with each other, helping one another to do their very best.

We have each had our moments
Tempers lost
Frustrations and tensions revealed
Perhaps out of such moments, we’ve learned to grow
To know more about ourselves and how we get along with others.

For me, this experience has had many rewards
A creative challenge
A chance to use my skills
But most important of all
I’ve grown to feel at home here, in Tallahassee, to know and respect each one of you.

Irving and I had great fun working together.  We seemed to challenge each other to be more creative, complementing each other’s skills.  By the end of the two-performance weekend we were talking about writing an original musical theater piece together, for which I could be choreographer and director, and he could be composer and musical director. Next week I’ll write about where we went next!

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Being a Part of the Detroit SheTown Film Festival Family

I am starting to write this blog on an airplane on the way home from the Detroit SheTown Film Festival.  I had planned to move on to writing about the early days of Avodah and life in Tallahassee in the 1970’s but that will have to wait until the following week.  Healing Voices – Personal Stories is the non-profit I founded (and am a part of) that makes films related to domestic violence.  We have been very honored to be in over seven film festivals.  Each one has its own unique character, and WOW is the only word I can use to express the SheTown Festival and how honored we are to have had “Jeannine’s Story” a part of it.

Over the past several weeks you have been reading about Jeannine and the role she played in Let My People Go and other Avodah Dance Ensemble activities.  During the years I was in New York City I never could have imagined that I would be co-directing and producing films or that Jeannine would be the focus of one of them.  How Healing Voices was formed and its history will have to wait until another blog.  For right now I want to share how we came to do a film on Jeannine and what this weekend was like.

Once or twice a year I get to New York City.  Planning my fall 2015 trip I noticed on Facebook that Jeannine and her partner Larry were doing a cabaret act at the same time I would be there. I shared this with my good friend Linda Kent, whom I enjoy spending time with in NYC, and we decided to catch the performance.  And what a wonderful evening it was.  Afterwards I had a few minutes to visit with Jeannine. She asked me what I was up to and I shared that I had formed a non-profit film company making films about domestic violence survivors.  Jeannine quietly said, “I have a story to tell you.”  My heart sank… that is not what I want to hear from a friend.

Jeannine shared her story with me and I knew we wanted to film it.  Our goal is to show how survivors have reshaped their lives overcoming abuse.  We arranged for Jeannine and Larry to come to Santa Fe.  They generously performed in a fundraising event which we filmed. Jeannine included two of her original songs as part of the evening and we were able to include them in the film. The next day we filmed Jeannine sharing her story. It is now a ten-minute film.  We have submitted it to a few festivals and were thrilled to receive news that it would be in the Detroit Shetown Film Festival which was held last week from September 13th– 16th.

Lindarose Berkley, a board member of Healing Voices and a co-producer, decided to go too. When we go, we do it at our own expense as we want to keep all the very generous donations strictly for filmmaking.  I was lucky to have frequent flyer miles to cover this trip.

I am thrilled to report this was an amazing experience filled with warmth, networking, outstanding films, and good audiences. This was the first year of the festival, under the excellent leadership of Mandy Looney and Mike Madigan. All of the entries had to meet at least one of the following criteria:

“A female lead actress/role
A Female-centric Story/Documentary Issue
Female Director, Director of Photography
Female Screenwriter, Editor
Female Producer or Co-Producer”
From Detroit SheTown Film Festival website.

We understand that there were over 300 films submitted from all over the world.  We were honored to be among the ones chosen. I decided to submit because we met their criteria and Jeannine grew up in Detroit.  When we got the email notifying us that our film had been selected, we were thrilled.  Of course, among the first things I did was to call Jeannine and see if she could join us.  Alas, it was a busy time for her in New York so she couldn’t

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Filmmaker’s Badge for the Festival

From the touring days of Avodah, I learned to reach out to see if I could get more “bookings” in the area — in this case, chances to meet with people in the domestic violence community in the Detroit area.  Much to my surprise it took only one call to Michigan’s Coalition for Domestic and Sexual Violence.  Speaking with the Executive Director, Sarah Prout Rennie, I explained why we would be in Detroit and that we wanted to learn more about the services that the community offered as well as share a little about Healing Voices and how our films could be streamed or downloaded free of charge from the Internet. She immediately put us in touch with Scott Zochowski, Membership, Marketing and Fund Development Manager. He suggested a lunch on Friday to meet and learn about what services are available for victims/survivors in Detroit.  And what an outstanding group of dedicated individuals Scott brought together.  We learned about La Vida, an organization focused on serving the Hispanic Community.  The two young women from La Vida were filled with such enthusiasm it was indeed very refreshing. A new staff member of the Coalition had just left a job as director of the Michigan Asian Indian Family Services.  Another woman was on the staff of the Detroit Shelter and another person focused on diversity training in the field of Sexual Abuse. It was a very informative, lively lunch and Lindarose and I look forward to keeping in touch with those we met. They were thrilled to learn about “Jeannine’s Story” as well as the other films we made.

Poster for the film. Here’s a link where you can watch the film.

We had arrived Thursday, the night before, for the Festival’s Opening Night Party. Before we headed to the party I was a bit worried that Lindarose and I would feel like the grandmas there, many years older then the other filmmakers.  Much to our delight there was a lot of diversity, including in ages.  That evening we met three people in particular that we would hang out with the next several days.

Friday night began with an opening panel of four women film directors and they excellently covered a lot of ground focusing on the challenges of being a woman in an industry so dominated by men.  Following the panel, a selection called “Taste of the Festival” kept us laughing and crying.  From the first to the last film, we watched intently.  My favorite was a documentary about a group of women actors/comedians from Toronto called HerBeaver: Behind the Bush. We continued to meet more filmmakers and I loved how supportive each one was and interested in what others were doing.  We enthusiastically attended each other’s showing blocks.

The next day started with the documentary block, and how honored we were to be a part of it. Following the showing of 8 documentaries, the filmmakers who were in attendance were invited up for a Q and A. We each introduced ourselves. One of the questions we were asked was how long a documentary should be.  I answered by going back to composition classes at Juilliard, particularly with Louis Horst who so clearly insisted that each dance movement had to relate to the theme we had introduced at the beginning of the study.  That is one of the guiding things for me – that as we edit the transcripts of our films and build the storyline, we need to stay focused on the purpose of the film.  In Jeannine’s case it was really important to make sure that the arts, and in particular music were clearly woven throughout as that is so much a part of her healing.

As we attended more sessions we continued to be held spellbound at the incredible films and deepen our friendship with other filmmakers.

I look forward to following the careers of two young filmmakers.  Kennikki Jones just completed her MFA in Film from Florida State University and her film Help Wanted was included in the Opening Night: Taste of SheTown.  A Call to Action directed by Krisilyn Frazier struck a strong note for me in her use of modern dance movement interwoven between the speaking of a Holocaust survivor and a professor from the University of Michigan.

And then there were two seasoned professionals that we look forward to keeping in touch with too. Lynda Reiss has been a TV prop master best known for her work on shows such as Stranger Things and True Detective.  She is now transitioning into the role of Director and what a great start she is off to with Ready to Go, about a man on his way to put his cat down.  Eileen Kearny won best actress in the festival for her role in House Rules which she wrote, produced and starred in.

Thank you Mindy and Mike for putting together such an outstanding women’s film festival. And we very much cherish being a part of the Detroit SheTown Film Festival family.  And to Jeannine, thank you for sharing your story so that it can help others to heal.

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Photos from “Let My People Go” and Tamiris’s Piece

This week’s blog features a series of photographs that we have not shared before, related to “Let My People Go” and Tamiris’s “Go Down Moses.”  To Avodah alums: if you have any photos that you would like to share please scan and send them for future Mostly Dance posts.

Tanya Alexander’s strong performance of Tamiris’s “Go Down Moses.”

Photo by student at Smith College.

Lisa Watson’s striking line in a rehearsal photo of Tamiris’s “Go Down Moses.”

Photo by KeziaGleckman Hayman.

Another excellent cast of Let My People Go:  Steven Washington (solo photo) and (left to right) Beth Millstein Wish, Cantor Judy Seplowin, Steven, Elizabeth McPherson, Adrienne Amstrong.  Photos by Kezia Gleckman Hayman.  Kezia remembers that she took these photos at a rehearsal in New York, as this cast prepared to go on tour.  When the company returned, they surprised her with a copy of The Sentinel newspaper from Carlisle, PA (Feb. 19, 1993), which had run the photo of Steven on the front page of their weekend entertainment guide, and additional photos in an inside spread about the company.

Sometimes it’s fun to see your program posted on a marquee – this one in Portland, Oregon.  Photo by JoAnne Tucker.  (Kezia says, “Loretta is typically beautiful and dramatic, while I look like I’m preparing for a three-legged race.”)

Touring with Avodah required its own kind of adaptability and sense of humor.  Here, JoAnne directs rehearsal in the midst of a college flea market.  Photo by Kezia Gleckman Hayman.

Enjoying a rare chance to sightsee in the magnificent Colorado mountains:  (left to right) Deborah Hanna, Ida Rae Cahana and Christopher Hemmans.  Photo by Kezia Gleckman Hayman.

As beautiful as any choreographed duet:  Newman Taylor Baker and Loretta Abbott, in Colorado.  Photo by Kezia Gleckman Hayman.

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A Special Visit with Louis Johnson

It was exciting to be contacted in 2015 by a filmmaker doing a documentary on Louis called Up in the Air.  We had several phone conversations and he let me know that Louis was doing well and living in the Amsterdam Nursing Home, across the street from St. John the Divine in New York City.  Louis had told him about Let My People Go and he wanted some more information.  Learning where Louis was, I resolved that I would go and visit him on my next trip to New York City.  I let other Let My People Go cast members know that I would be visiting Louis and invited them to join me if they were able.  So on a Friday afternoon in September of 2015, Newman Taylor Baker, Loretta Abbott and I had a wonderful visit with Louis.

One of the first things Louis asked was, “How is that little girl who did the article on me doing?”  And he said how much he loved that article.  Here’s what he was referring to.

______________________________

From Avodah Newsletter, February 1999 (by Kezia Gleckman Hayman)

INSIDE VIEW:  AN APPRECIATION OF LOUIS JOHNSON, CHOREOGRAPHER

Avodah’s newest piece is Make a Change, co-choreographed by Louis Johnson and JoAnne Tucker. Ten years ago, this pair created Let My People Go, and it was my lucky privilege to be part of the original cast.  JoAnne and Louis equally have shaped both these pieces, but for my limited purpose here (and with JoAnne’s encouragement), I have temporarily cropped the picture to include only Louis.  Choreographers can sometimes adapt their working styles to suit each particular forum or group of performers; I have not had the fun of observing Louis in any of his other extensive and varied professional encounters, but please allow me to share an insider’s fond view of Louis Johnson as choreographer for Avodah.  –KGH-

            “It still works,” says Louis, sounding amazed each time he attends a performance of Let My People Go.  His bewilderment would surprise anyone hearing him, because it is his own work about which he speaks.  But then Louis is a modest guy.  The community member chatting and laughing with Louis recently at Snug Harbor, and being praised for his gusto as a community performer with us, might have known that Louis is the Director of Dance at the historic Henry Street Settlement in New York City, but our conversationalist probably had little idea that he was talking to an artist who regularly sets pieces on the Dance Theatre of Harlem, Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater and other dance companies of similar distinction.  Could he guess that Aretha Franklin counts on Louis to stage her shows or that Michael Jackson does Louis’s moves in the movie The Wiz?  Would he know that Louis was a pioneering African American male dancer to appear with the New York City Ballet in Jerome Robbins’s Ballade and on Broadway in Damn Yankees (choreographed by Bob Fosse)?  No.  Because Louis never boasts about his accomplishments, never “name drops,” never even volunteers information about his work.  When Louis is talking to you, child or adult, his focus is entirely on you, whether he’s hearing about other work you’ve done or he’s worrying that you’re not wearing a winter hat.  This complete attention to the present moment – this “commitment” – is precisely what Louis expects from his dancers and what makes Let My People Go“still work” after 10 years.

A young Louis Johnson in performance (note the arms and head!). Photo from http://iforcolor.org/louis-johnson/. (Photo did not appear with original Newsletter article; it has been added for this blog.)

The late choreographer Antony Tudor observed wistfully, about the generation of dancers who came after the early casts of his dramatic ballets, that the trouble was, one could hardly find “bad dancers” anymore.  What he meant, Louis would understand.  Neither, obviously, would want untalented dancers, but a Tudor ballet is not about how high a ballerina can fling her leg or how many times a male dancer can spin in a pirouette.  Louis, I confess, has a weak spot for high kicks and multiple turns, fast feet and gymnastic feats, but he doesn’t tolerate any of that if there isn’t passion behind it.  And more important, he can shape the proper intent, context and force that can make a low leg appear as spectacular as a high kick.  Louis preaches sincerity, whirlwind energy, rhythm and dynamics, theatricality.  He can demonstrate it, too.  Belying his generously round appearance, Louis can explode from his seat and execute movement with a terrific quickness of feet, a piercing sharpness of focus, a beauty of timing and a ham-it-up grin that is incomparably endearing.

You can get a whole education in theatricality by watching Louis work.  Whether it’s a small detail of pacing or spacing, an adjustment of focus, the insertion of a “trick” to make the audience smile – every tiny bit of molding makes a significant change for the audience’s eye.  Louis may indeed be concerned with the guts of his dancers, but he is simultaneously able to view the packaging through super-sensitive internal opera glasses that transform him into an audience member seeing the piece for the first time.  Allow me to share a glimpse of the way this approach actually presents itself in rehearsal, however.

Unlike some choreographers who enter the studio with a complete set of steps that the dancers are to reproduce, Louis does not. Unlike his co-choreographer JoAnne, who expects her dancers to collaborate in creating movement but who nonetheless enters the studio with a fairly clear structure and movement assignments to be fulfilled, Louis does not.  Louis enters the studio, dedicates himself to the current rehearsal (he has invariably raced over from some other consuming appointment) and proceeds to balance himself at a point hanging between that audience’s eye and the soul of the piece.  This most delicate perch is characterized outwardly by a faraway squint and substantial stretches of silence.  Then there is quite a bit of vague blocking, during which dancers plot out designated spots like human chess pieces, usually with the assurance, “Don’t worry about how you’re going to get there.”  Then Louis points to one dancer and directs, “Do some kind of big leap thing down to this corner.”  The dancer, new to working with Louis, and having only one second to think, does a lovely traditional grand jeté across the floor. “It’s not BALLET class,” Louis booms.  “Give it some dynamics!  Get your arms UP! Look up! (He demonstrates strikingly.)  Do it again, please.” Dancer goes back and does a magnificent, electrifying grand jeté with non-ballet arms.

This arm business is a signature trick of Louis’s, I’ve found.  Louis is actually fond of ballet vocabulary, but his means of conquering its sometimes academic effect is to use the arms and head in an upward shout of exultant energy.  This is so characteristic of Louis’s work that when I came into a rehearsal for Make a Change recently, I found Tanya, a dancer who at that point had only rehearsed with Louis a few times, reviewing material with another dancer and reminding, ”That leap is with Louis arms.”

But back to our modified ballerina who has just done the spectacular leap.  “Gooood . . . that’s good” Louis murmurs.  Pause.  Long squint.  Long pause.  “Can you do that again and play a trumpet at the top of the leap?”

I am kidding about the trumpet.  But the essence is accurate.  Added to the first simple request, just when the dancer might be caught off-guard by Louis’s reassuring hum of “Good,” comes a challenge to do something the person has possibly never done before and probably never expected to do on a stage.  Working with Louis, you learn to revel in the quick laugh of shock and then “go for it.”  Trust is indispensable in this process.

After the “trumpet” scene will follow the putting together of one small phrase of non-stop, nearly frenzied movement. It will be triple-high energy and slightly flashy, and we will repeat it endlessly as Louis squints and refines details.  The next day we will not be able to walk up stairs or sit down.  At the end of the 2-1/2 hour rehearsal, when some choreographers would have set at least five minutes of constant movement, we have the dance equivalent of the 100-meter dash and lots of walking around.  Are we worried?  Not a bit.  Besides appreciating the luxury of not being pressured to learn excessive material quickly, anyone who has worked with Louis has come to trust him entirely; by the performance (though perhaps not much before), we’ll have a finished piece, and it will all work theatrically.  At the next rehearsal, Louis will claim, in partial truth, not to remember most of what was set.  But at the change of one detail, he’ll cry out, “Didn’t you twirl that trumpet when you picked it up last time?”

Rehearsals will continue, a bit muddled, with thinking periods, and lots of squinting, and refreshing laughter, and eventually, almost magically, there will be a full piece.  The completion of this stage is like the magic button on the pinball machine.  Louis is catapulted to the “polishing” stage.  Suddenly he is like a firecracker or the embodiment of an exclamation point, his arms shooting out right, left, up, as his voice punctuates, “Bop!  Vap!  MOVE, people.  Make us love you!”  And here we are at the core.  Louis is not a choreographer enmeshed in movement studies.  His choreography sets out to communicate. His movements speak.

Sometimes this means, for example, that the male dancer in Let My People Go must convincingly convey with his movements the panic of a slave trying to escape. But this is a basic example – even when powerfully done, it is only a generation or two beyond mime.  The unique force of Louis’s choreography is that even when movement appears to be eons removed from gesture, it still speaks.  In his movements, Louis captures the rhythms, the inflections, the pauses and overlaps, humor, compassion, confusion and speed of human conversation.  When he tells a dancer, “Sell it!  Take your moment,” he is reminding the dancer that for that brief paragraph of movement, he or she is the one having the most intense conversation with the audience.  “Your movements have to SAY something,” Louis insists.  The script is in the movements he has choreographed. But it is ultimately Louis’s gift as a director that clinches his talent as a choreographer, because it is through his extraordinary coaching that his dancers are brought to eloquent delivery of those lines.

Always, ultimately, the product is an entertaining presentation with an urgent soul.  Yes, Louis can put on a gruff voice and say sternly, “People, don’t talk while I’m talking,” as we try occasionally to interpret pointed instructions that are in utter conflict with other pointed instructions.  But five minutes later, he’ll say pseudo-confidentially, “You’ve got to let dancers solve these problems themselves – you know, dancers are smart.”  And ten minutes later, this man of renown in the world of dance and theater will turn to his cast and with quiet seriousness ask each member, “Do you think this is working?”

Yes, Louis, it’s working.  Ten years from now it will still work.

______________________________

Now back to the 2015 visit.  We had planned to have lunch together and since Louis is wheelchair bound, I thought we would be able to find a place in the neighborhood.  But that wasn’t what Louis had in mind.  He definitely wanted to go to a restaurant that was a cab ride away on West 125thStreet, a favorite of his, and just like when creating Let My People Go, there was no way to say “NO” to Louis.  So with instructions from staff at the Nursing Home, off Newman, Loretta and I went.  Our first challenge was finding a taxi that would accept a wheel chair.  Finally one stopped for us and it was with incredible determination that Louis was able to move himself from the chair to the cab’s seat. The driver was quite wonderful and told us how to call for a van cab where Louis would be able to stay in his chair.  We did that after lunch and it made it so much easier for him.   It was indeed a very special lunch and I am so glad to have this picture of us taken at the restaurant.

From L to R:  Newman Taylor Baker, Loretta Abbott, Louis Johnson, JoAnne Tucker.

I had no idea that would be the last time I would see Loretta.  Several months later she had a stroke.  For a short while she was at the same nursing home as Louis (where she played the piano daily) before returning to live on her own.  A true theatre person, she was already involved in rehearsals for a new production when she passed away on June 5, 2016.  Kezia was able to get to a memorial held for her at George Faison’s Firehouse Theater, the very place where she had been rehearsing the new work. Later we would have our very own small and intimate gathering, put together for us by Jeannine Otis at St. Mark’s Church in New York in October 2016.  Here we are gathered around Loretta’s picture. Missing from the photo is Beth Millstein Wish who had joined us earlier.

From L to R:  Kezia Gleckman Hayman, Newman Taylor Baker, Larry Marshall, JoAnne Tucker and Jeannine Otis.

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Make a Change: Collaboration with Community Members

Louis and I wanted to do another collaboration together and this time create a piece that would have space for community members to participate in both the choreographic process and the performance.  As we toured with Let My People Go throughout the United States and saw the enthusiasm with which communities were collaborating in presenting a performance we began to wonder what it would be like if they became part of the performance, creating a piece that engaged both the company and community members.

We had created a piece on one of our tours to the suburbs of Chicago in 1997 when the company worked with youth from New Faith Baptist Church in Matteson, IL and B’nai Yehuda Beth Sholom in Homewood, IL, spending the afternoon together.  Using the friendship between Dr. Martin Luther King and Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel as motivation, the piece, involving about 15 young dancers from the congregations, was titled Stand Up Take Action.

This experience showed us a beginning path to engage community with the company and so as the tenth anniversary of Let My People Go was nearing in the fall of 1998, we began work on a new collaboration which Louis and I called Make a Change.  Rehearsals got underway with dancers Beth Millstein, Tanya Alexander, Jessica Losinski  and Mark Walcott with original musical accompaniment by Newman Taylor Baker and Jeannine Otis.  We were all used to working together and so things progressed quickly and smoothly as we established set choreography with places where community members would join us.

Our goal was to create a piece about the energy it takes to make a difference – to explore the idea of change, with joy and celebration, and ask participants not what causes they supported, but rather what kind of energy is needed to make a change.

Performances were planned for January of 1999, first in Brooklyn’s Park Slope Jewish Center, then in Staten Island, and the official opening at our home base of Hebrew Union College. In Brooklyn six members of the Brooklyn Brownstone Coalition danced with the company in the piece.  The Staten Island performance was sponsored by Temple Israel and was held at the Music Hall of the Snug Harbor Cultural Center, billed as a community celebration in Dance and Song for Dr. Martin Luther King, on Sunday evening, January 10th.  An earlier announcement in the Staten Island Advance invited community members to participate.  They did not need professional training. They just had to be comfortable moving, and willing to improvise.  They also had to be available to attend two workshops earlier that week and the dress rehearsal at 3 p.m. on the performance day.

We were thrilled at the diverse turnout and enthusiasm of the 16 adult participants.  The workshops were great fun to lead and I found myself dancing up a storm too.

Community members at a rehearsal. Photo by Kezia Gleckman Hayman.

JoAnne demonstrating hambone. Photo by Kezia Gleckman Hayman.

Kezia in the Avodah Newsletter described our process:

First Louis and JoAnne built a structure for the piece, setting choreography on company members and leaving gaps for community participants. The dancers collaborated in creating their movements, and musicians Newman Taylor Baker andJeannine Otis created the entire musical score under Louis’s direction. Short phrases of movement from set choreography were then selected for teaching to community casts.  In a few workshops bringing together volunteers from a variety of groups in a given local community, JoAnne coached participants through guided improvisations to find their own movements expressing their heartfelt desire to “make a change.”

Kezia and Mark teaching a combination to community members. Photo by JoAnne Tucker.

We were also very fortunate to have a grant from The New York City Department of Cultural Affairs. The cultural challenge grant was matched by 90 individual contributors and the official opening of the piece was on January 28that Hebrew Union College.

Additional grants related to the project followed. The Tribune New York Foundation funded our return to Brooklyn’s Midwood High School to work with 11thgraders in a combined English and Social Studies curriculum focusing on ideas related to the new piece.  We also conducted workshops and performed for youth from temporary housing in Pleasantville, New York in a program coordinated by Mara Mills, Director of the Newman Theatre at the YW-YWHA in Pleasantville.

Later in the year we received a grant from The Irving Caesar Lifetime Trust. Lyricist and songwriter Irving Caesar (1895-1996) was known for his lyrics to “Tea for Two,” “Swanee” and the show No, No Nanette.  This grant enabled us to conduct a series of six workshops at two different New York City public high schools, culminating in the students’ joining the company in a performance at their school.

Just before writing this blog I watched a video of the Staten Island performance of Make a Change. Unfortunately the quality is very bad so I won’t be sharing it online. But let me describe a few things that struck me as I watched. First of all for this performance, the piece opens with Louis and me on stage.  We have a brief discussion about the work and then as we shout together, “Change!” the piece begins.  The 16 community dancers are wonderful, showing confidence in their parts, and working sometimes as a complete group and other times in small groups of four. When Newman first enters it is with a bold jump into the center of the stage and he plays “hambone” – usinghis hands on various parts of his body to create rhythms and different sounds.  The community dancers join him at the end.  Later we find Newman participating with the dancers, helping Mark to lift another dancer.

A key movement phrase to show determination to make a change is a series of small weighted jumps in a second position plié (the position shown in the photo led by Kezia and Mark).  The community members later join the company members in this phrase.  Louis set some wonderful balletic moments and even a bit of jazzy Broadway-show style movement.  Jeannine playfully enters and moves around the stage with original music she composed to the phrase “make a change.” In all, it is a fun, lively, interactive 10-minute piece.

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Bravo’s in California!!

It’s 1997 and “Let My People Go” is in its 9th year of touring.  We are preparing for a tour to Northern California and the cantor who has been singing with us is not able to continue so I need to find someone new.  The voice I keep hearing in my head chanting the Hebrew text belongs not to a cantor, but to Jeannine Otis.  Hum… that would be different– having an African American artist do the cantor’s role.  Why not!!

As mentioned in a previous blog, we first knew Jeannine both from her performance in Faith Journey, and from her work as an evaluator with the Cultural Arts Program that gave us a grant to run a program for children living in NYC temporary housing.  After that first grant, Jeannine accompanied one of our performances of Negro Spirituals, and we danced — with her accompaniment — as part of an AIDS memorial service at St. Mark’s Church in-the-Bowery, where she was (and is still) the Musical Director.  As Kezia noted in a 1997 Avodah Newsletter, “the whole company had fallen in love with Jeannine’s voice, her poise, her sincerity, her soul and her striking lack of ego.”

I asked Jeannine how her Hebrew was and if she was interested in joining the “Let My People Go” cast.  She said she was good at learning different languages for singing and that she would be willing to be tutored.  The first tutor didn’t work out but the second one did and Henry Resnick did a super job coaching Jeannine with the Hebrew text.  As rehearsal got underway I couldn’t have been more thrilled with Jeannine as part of the cast.

Our first performance was in Santa Rosa on a Sunday afternoon in February co-sponsored by Congregation Beth Ami and Community Baptist Church.  Either the day before or that morning we went over to Community Baptist Church to lead a workshop with teens from both congregations.  The leaders of the two congregations couldn’t have been more different.  One preached boldly in a vibrant African America Baptist style while the Rabbi from Congregation Beth Ami was quiet and reserved.  They got along beautifully and we noticed that later in the day when the Rabbi spoke before our concert he was bolder and livelier.  Fun to see how we can learn from each other.

A packed audience from both congregations watched with intensity and enthusiasm and rapidly rose to its feet as soon as “Let My People Go” ended.  The six-member cast was superb.  Newman Baker, Kezia Gleckman Hayman, Carla Norwood, Jeannine Otis, Mark Walcott, and Lisa Danette Watson blended beautifully with each other, and the bravo’s and cheers they received were well deserved.

The Full Cast. Photo by Tom Scott.

We had a few days off before our next performance so we toured the wine country and then a few of us did mud baths at Calistoga.  Carla, in a memory of that Avodah tour, wrote of “sitting on the cliffs above the Pacific Coast at Point Reyes National Park, a detour from the nerve-wracking drive along California’s Highway 1.” (Kezia also remembers that she and Carla decided to explore some of San Francisco on foot, armed with a simple local street map.  They were proud of themselves, until they discovered that the map failed to indicate that some of their chosen streets were so steep they had staircases built into the sidewalks!)

Jeannine and Carla at Point Reyes National Park. Photo by Kezia Gleckman Hayman.

Lisa doing an attitude on the path at Point Reyes. Photo by Kezia Gleckman Hayman.

Other performances on the tour included Hillel sponsored programs at Berkeley and Stanford,and then Friday night at Congregation Sherith Israel in San Francisco, with the Jones Memorial Church presenting traditional music of South Africa and the African Diaspora.  I remember the spacing at Sherith Israel was challenging as the “bema” was narrow and yet with just an afternoon rehearsal the company made it their own. Cantor Martin Feldman and Jeannine sang together at one point adding another dimension.

Cantor Martin Feldman and Jeannine in rehearsal. Photo by Tom Scott.

I could (but won’t) go on and on about all the amazing performances and talented dancers and cantors who shared their gifts in this piece, and the communities that chose to come together to sponsor a performance, often with accompanying workshops or Question and Answer sessions.  I will mention that Jeannine continued to perform this piece with us after the California tour.  She had learned the Hebrew so well, and performed so beautifully, that an audience member once asked whether African American cantors are common.

Newman at the San Francisco airport before we headed home.

Photo: Kezia Gleckman Hayman.

Here are links to some excerpts of Jeannine in the Cantor’s role from a performance she did with us at a church outside of Chicago.

Excerpt 1: Moses you are standing on Holy Ground

Excerpt 2: “M’Chamocha” and “Hallelujah”

Excerpt 3:  End of the piece: Spiritual, “Go Down Moses”

To learn more about Jeannine visit her website.

 

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After School Program for Children Living in Temporary Housing

Thirty children, along with a few parents, arrived at our home base of Hebrew Union College–Jewish Institute of Religion (HUC-JIR) on West 4thStreet in NYC to spend several hours with the Let My People Go Company. For five weeks, twice a week they participated in 45 minutes of dance and 45 minutes of music education, as well as journal writing, dinner and other short activities related to Let My People Go. The program culminated in a special sharing for parents and invited guests, where the children performed, celebrated at a special dinner and went home with souvenirs including a Let My People Go T-shirt, a rainstick, and books (generously donated by Scholastic Press) about music and Harriet Tubman.

We learned about the Cultural Arts Program for Children Living in Temporary Housing from H.T. Chen and Dian Dong, as we rented rehearsal space for a number of years from Chen and Dancers in Chinatown.  They had received grants from the New York City Department of Cultural Affairs for several years and suggested we apply. We did and were thrilled to receive grants for the next several years until the program ended.  It was one of the most satisfying teaching experiences that we had.

Kezia shared some of the experiences of the first year in Avodah’s December 1995 Newsletter:

The talking drum shouted with anger and then whispered a secret.  The 12-year-old drummer had expressed her frustration clearly, without using a word.  Words might come later, too, in her journal, but right now the drum was more satisfying, simultaneously announcing her feelings while keeping the specifics private.

Think of all the emotions, the alarms, the summonses, the celebrations, the unifying rhythms, the messages –throughout history, throughout the world – that have been spoken by drums. Nor did the power of the drum escape the attention of those who feared it; just as slaves in America were forbidden to learn to read, forbidden to gather, so too, their drums were taken away.  But as the children who worked with our drummer, Newman Baker, would tell you, if you don’t have an actual drum in front of you, you always have one on you.  And these children would further demonstrate for you the variations in tone when you slap the top of your thigh, pat the side of it, or tap your knee, all while beating complicated rhythms on this “hambone.”

It was during these programs that we witnessed Newman’s incredible talents teaching and I am thrilled to report that Newman continued to share his talents with Avodah as a regular collaborator and today continues as my very dear friend.  You will be reading lots more about him as this blog continues.

Newman and Elizabeth teaching in a junior high school classroom.  We often had grants to bring programs into the public schools.

All the company members proved to be excellent teachers beautifully guiding the children in various activities.  For example, Loretta talked about Harriet Tubman and asked the children to go quietly from their lively school bus through a long lobby downstairs to their activity room as if they were fugitive slaves following Harriet Tubman on the Underground Railroad.   Loretta, of course, became Harriet Tubman.

Loretta Abbott leading the children in the final presentation.

The facilities at HUC-JIR proved to be outstanding for the program.  The large kitchen was ideal to make tasty and healthy dinners. Thank you, HUC-JIR, for making this possible. I learned that I could shop at BJ’s in Jersey City for large amounts of food at a reasonable price enabling me to add treats that the children were able to take home with them.  For the first year, a former Avodah dancer, Peggy Evans (then a professional clown), coordinated the cooking.  With classes, journal writing and eating together, the program flowed smoothly.

The Chapel at HUC-JIR was just perfect forthe dance classes and especially for the final presentation.

The director of the program for the New York City Department of Cultural Affairs was Rhonda McLean Nur. And much to our delight she sent Jeannine Otis to observe our work for the Department.  We had met Jeannine before, when she appeared in a program that we had shared with Faith Journey at HUC.    As we got to know Jeannine more, I kept thinking there had to be a way to collaborate with her.  (See the next blog for how this came to be.)

In the second year of receiving the grant and developing a very strong relationship with the children, I arranged a field trip/reunion for the staff and children to attend a performance of the Broadway show Bring in ‘da Noise, Bring in ‘da Funk.  While I don’t remember all the details of how we were able to pull this off, I believe the producers made special price tickets available to school groups for the matinee.  It was exciting to have Savion Glover and other cast members talk to the children after the show.

Our field trip to see Bring in ‘da Noise, Bring in ‘da Funk.

Reflecting back on these unique teaching opportunities my heart again fills with the joy that we received from the children.  They were eager and hungry to learn from us, and their enthusiasm brought out the very best in our teaching skills.

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