The Pioneers of Modern Dance: My Firsthand Experience

Recently I was talking about the different teachers I had studied with as a young dancer between the ages of 15 and 21.  I hadn’t thought of it before in quite these terms, but I am old enough to have had firsthand experience with most of the shapers of modern dance.  These were amazing pioneers forging new traditions in dance from the 1920’s into the 1960’s and some beyond.  Here is a list of these pioneers and a few sentences describing my experience with them, in the order I met them.

Ted Shawn  (1891-1972) of Denishawn – He and Ruth St. Denis founded a company where a number of the pioneers got their first experience and opportunity to build long-term collaborations.  I heard Ted Shawn speak at Jacob’s Pillow when he introduced the program that I went to see when I was a camper at a nearby camp.  Jacob’s Pillow’s history goes back to 1933 when Shawn and his group of men did their first performance in a barn that still exists and is used for classes and performances today.  Here’s a link to learn more about the founding of Jacob’s Pillow.  The camp I attended was called Belgian Village and was located in Cummington, MA .  I was there on a scholarship teaching dance to the younger campers.  I can remember sitting in the Jacob’s Pillow theatre and being awed by both Ted Shawn’s inspiring words and an amazing performance that included modern dance, ballet and ethnic dance.

Martha Graham  (1894 -1991) – I first met her at the age of 15 when she came to Pittsburgh for the premiere of her movie  A Dancer’s World, which you can watch on YouTube.  It is a wonderful introduction to her and her technique.  Jeanne Beaman, my modern dance teacher in Pittsburgh, hosted a reception for Martha following a private showing of the film.  I have a clear memory of being introduced to her and her encouraging me to come to NYC and take the Xmas course even though I was very young. I did go a year later, and from that time on, Graham technique was my favorite way to train. That was not the only time I had classes directly with her.  She taught a week of classes at the six-week summer program at the American Dance Festival which I attended twice. There were also occasions when she taught at the New York studio.  She, the technique she developed, and how she choreographed her pieces were a major influence on me!

Helen Tamiris  (1902-1966) – I auditioned for her in 1958 at Perry-Mansfield Camp and was accepted into a piece she choreographed during the three weeks she was there. Martha Clarke and I were the only two younger-than-college-age dancers who were part of her piece Dance for Walt Whitman. (I’ve written before about Tamiris and Dance for Walt Whitman; here is a link to that blog. The fact that Tamiris recognized my abilities reaffirmed my commitment to be a dancer. She also influenced significantly my understanding of choreographic elements.  Currently Elizabeth McPherson, a member of Avodah Dance Ensemble during seven of the years I directed the company, is working on a book about Tamiris.  When Elizabeth spent three weeks at the artist residency program  I hold at my home, we spent many hours talking about Tamiris, and it was great fun for me to learn new things about her life.  I was so glad that we were able to stage some of Tamiris’s choreography when Elizabeth set Tamiris’s piece Negro Spirituals for the Avodah Dance Ensemble.

Charles Weidman (1901-1975)I was part of a class he taught in kinetic pantomime at the American Dance Festival at Connecticut College in 1960.  He staged a demonstration that we performed in a Festival program.  It was during one of his rehearsals that Martha Hill, the chairman of the dance department of Juilliard, saw me rehearsing and remembered me from an audition I had taken for Juilliard about six weeks before. She found me after class and asked me to reaudition.  I hadn’t made that first audition, but she felt I now would get into the school.

Photo from Connecticut College, 1960, of the Charles Weidman piece I was in. I am the dancer on the left. I do not know who the other two dancers are.

Martha Hill  (1900- 1995) – I mentioned in the last paragraph that she encouraged me to reaudition for Juilliard, which I did about a year later.  While I didn’t have a lot of direct contact with her while I was at Juilliard, the program that she developed at Juilliard and my two years as a student there shaped me as an artist.  The tools and ability to focus on my “art” carried over from dance to painting and filmmaking. I have tremendous respect for the role she played in the development of dance education in colleges.  Elizabeth McPherson has written an excellent book about her, and here is a link to a blog I wrote about the book.

 Louis Horst (1884 – 1964) – I took my first of three composition classes from him in the summer of 1961, at Connecticut College.  In Pre-Classic Dance Forms, he encouraged me to continue with him, even though I wasn’t yet a student at Juilliard. I did so (as a special student), continuing to take his second-year course, Modern Forms.  By mid-semester I had become a full-time student at Juilliard.  The following year I took his third and final formal course, Group Forms.  I loved his classes.  His demanding insistence that we follow the clear form of different musical dances instilled a discipline and focus on how I used movement in dance pieces. His second-year course began a long appreciation of art and how much we can learn from different periods of art history.  A good example of how this later influenced me can be found in how I used a painting as a basis for I Never Saw Another Butterfly. Here’s a link to a blog where I go into detail about this.  Last fall, Nancy Bannon was here on an artist residency working on a play about Louis Horst and Martha Graham, and I learned lots of interesting things about Louis’s life.  She shared with me a wonderful book by Janet Soares about Louis that I look forward to reviewing in an upcoming blog.

There are two pioneers from the period that I didn’t get to study with directly although I did study with their disciples.

Doris Humphrey (1895 -1958)  – Her name is associated with Charles Weidman (they formed together The Humphrey-Weidman Company) and with Jose Limon (she mentored him when he was her student, and when she retired from her own company, she became Artistic Director of his Limon Company).  I took classes in Limon technique at Juilliard and sometimes had a class directly from Limon.  Although I wasn’t fond of the technique, I loved Limon’s choreography as well as pieces that I saw of Humphrey’s.  In particular, Humphrey’s Water Study (1928), The Shakers (1931), and Passacaglia (to Bach’s Music) are among my favorites.  Passacaglia was revived at Juilliard during the time I was there.  I am so glad that I got to see Jose dance in The Moor’s Pavane along with Betty Jones, Lucas Hoving and Pauline Koner.  Some of his other pieces that have created a lasting memory are There Is a Time and Missa Brevis.

While I did not study directly with Humphrey, her philosophy and writing did have an influence on me, such as her movement exercises of fall and recovery.  “She called this the arc between two deaths.  At one extreme an individual surrenders to the nature of gravity; at the other, one attempts to achieve balance.” (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Doris_Humphrey).  Her book The Art of Making Dance (1958), which I read several years after it was published, was also helpful to me, and it was a regular reference book in my library.  I keep in mind to this very day her statement that the last seconds of a piece of choreography are most important.  For me, that reminder carries over to all art forms.

Hanya Holm (1893 – 1999) One of the dancers that she strongly influenced, Don Redlich, choreographed a piece that I was in while a teenager in Pittsburgh.  It was interesting working with him, but I don’t remember anything unique about the experience that I can trace back to Holm.  I do remember loving her choreography in My Fair Lady which I saw shortly after it opened with Julie Andrews and Rex Harrison in 1956.

Writing this blog has felt like a journey down memory lane.  I am grateful to have experienced firsthand so many of the modern dance pioneers.  I welcome readers who may have worked with some of them to share their experiences in the comment section.

[print_link]

A Visit to a Costa Rican Art Museum Triggers a Fascination with Mascaradas

On February 17th Art House Atenas owners Anna Matteucci and Felipe Keta lead a small group of Expats to San Jose to visit two museums: The Jade Museum and the Museo de Arte Costarricense (MAC).  It was a delightful, interesting day.  My favorite exhibit was called Valle Oscuro (dark valley) by painter Adrian Arguedas Ruano at the MAC .

As one enters the museum, Arguedas’s bold colorful paintings greet you.  A few of his sculptures catch your immediate attention too.  The works fill a large gallery room and three smaller adjoining rooms, mostly picturing masked community members along with unmasked figures.  While some young children are painted wearing small masks of animals, others are wearing distorted, grotesque, large masks, and still others are depicted wearing large heads mounted on torsos making them look larger than life.

Felipe Keta talking about the artist in front of one of Arguedas’s paintings!
One of my favorite Arguedas paintings. I love the grandma in the center being surrounded by community participants, which captures the intergenerational life that is very important in Costa Rica.

All the paintings of Valle Oscuro were done between 2020 and 2022.  On the artist’s website I learned about his fascination with masks:

Arguedas is a native of Barva de Heredia, a small town known for keeping the traditions of making popular mask parades. In his childhood, he found artistic inspiration through the figure of his great-uncle, named Carlos Salas, who worked sculpting the clay to prepare the base that would later serve as a mold to create the original traditional masks, made with paper.  Salas had a powerful influence on the artist inspiration and artwork. https://www.adrianarguedas.com/bio.html

Doing more research, I learned that the mask tradition dates to pre-Hispanic time, when the aboriginal people made and used masks for various purposes. They were first used at funerals in two different ways: first, they were used by whoever led the mortuary procession so they appeared to have a higher power to lead the deceased to the other world, and second, they were given to the deceased to identify his role in the tribe.   Shamans and chiefs also made special use of the masks as part of their rituals.  These special masks are known as Mascaradas.

Today, in Costa Rica they are still part of community celebrations, and much to my delight I had an event in our town of Atenas where mascaradas were a highlight.

A friend on Facebook posted about a fundraising event on the full moon for a local church that included  food, music, dance and mascaradas. The evening was called “Lunada Bailable,” and I loved the poster.

 

I went with some cousins who were visiting from Pittsburgh, and we had a wonderful evening.  Music piped through a large sound system contributed to the festive quality of the event.  I was surprised to hear a Spanish version of “If I Were A Rich Man” from Fiddler on the Roof. When it got dark and the moon was shining bright, six local dancers began the formal entertainment. While not professional, they put all their energy into their routines.  They waved their skirts and used scarfs as props.  It was fun to watch one youngster, about age 4, who pretended she had on a long skirt and delighted in following their movement.

This was my favorite dancer to watch. She always had a smile on her face, dancing with lots of enthusiasm.

The closing event was the Mascaradas, with children from ages toddler to maybe 5 or 6 years old, wearing masks and dancing, joined by older boys and teenagers with full body masks!  The older kids liked to come over to the tables of the audience that surrounded the performing space, and pretend to scare us.

It was a special evening for my cousins and me to be a part of this community event.  I think we were the only ExPats attending.

Three photos showing the Mascaradas in action.

 

 

All photos in this blog are by JoAnne!

[print_link]

Thoughts after Streaming a Memorial for Dance Critic Jack Anderson

Whenever The Avodah Dance Ensemble held a performance in New York City, we sent out a press release to the dance critics.  We were always hopeful that one of the three critics from The New York Times – Anna Kisselgoff, Jennifer Dunning, or Jack Anderson – would cover our event.  While we were not always covered, we often were, several times by Jennifer Dunning and once by Jack Anderson.

In early January I received an email inviting me to a memorial service for Jack Anderson. He had died in October at the age of 88. I am not sure what list I was on that resulted in my receiving the invitation, but I was fascinated by some of the information in the notice, particularly that he was a poet besides being a dance historian and critic. On January 27th at 4 in the afternoon I streamed the memorial held at St. Peter’s Church, Lexington Avenue, New York City.  His poetry was read by different people throughout the service. Among the speakers was Anna Kisselgoff, who in a feisty voice shared what he didn’t like and that he had often been asked to go on the staff of The New York Times but preferred to freelance.  Three dance pieces were woven into the service: a solo from Antony Tudor’s Dark Elegies performed by a soloist from the New York Dance Theatre; a piece by Baroque Dance; and a lyrical trio of liturgical dances by Dance @ Saint Peter’s.

After the memorial I wanted to learn more about Jack Anderson, so I turned to the obituary in The New York Times which opens with, “He brought an all-embracing enthusiasm to about 4,000 articles for The New York Times on modern dance, tap, ballet and practically every other genre.”  His first article was written in 1978, and his last published piece was an obituary of Anna Halprin in 2021.  Here’s the link to the New York Times obituary if you want to know more about Jack Anderson.  https://www.nytimes.com/2023/10/22/arts/dance/jack-anderson-dead.html

Next, I found myself going through my digital files to find the review he had written about the Avodah Dance Ensemble.  He reviewed a concert we gave at Hebrew Union College on May 31, 1997, which included pieces inspired by two poets: Primo Levi and Yehuda Amichai. Now that I know Anderson was a poet, I understand why he might have been assigned our concert to review. While it was a short review, it was a solid one, beginning with acknowledging the space we were performing in:

“The sanctuary of the Hebrew Union College, Jewish Institute of Religion, a high, wide hall with walls of light wood that help make it look radiant, is used for concerts as well as for religious services.  It was a fine setting for Avodah.”

A few other passages I liked and was able to use in publicity:

“Ms. Tucker choreographed clear patterns that could be adapted to performance spaces of many kinds.”

“ ‘Shema’ effectively contrasted relentless pacing, representing concentration camp regimentation with  outbursts, symbolizing the prisoners’ turbulent personal feelings.”

I was glad to get the coverage, although I wish he had commented on the dancers, as they gave an excellent performance.

In December of 2023 I had read a reference to the fact that there were no longer any full-time dance critics on the staff of major newspapers.  In fact, in 2015 an article appeared in The Atlantic entitled “The Death of the American Dance Critic.” At that time there were two full-time critics: Alastair Macaulay at The New York Times and Sarah Kaufman at The Washington Post. Neither of them is now on staff at either paper; now all reviewing is being done by freelance writers.

As I continued to explore options for reading dance reviews, I came across a Facebook page named “Dance Critics Association.”  It has 647 members with regular posts.  There used to be an active Dance Critics Association that was founded in 1973, but the last time it showed any life was around 2007-2008.  Perhaps the FB page is now their only outlet.  The good news is that it is very active, filled with lots of daily posts.

When I was director of The Avodah Dance Ensemble, getting good press and publicity was important for us.  To be able to have a good quote to use in a press release or on our website was important to build our audience and to get bookings. I am glad I could honor Jack Anderson by streaming his memorial and by writing this blog.  I want to honor and express gratitude for all the dance critics and writers who continue to review performances and write about dance.

Screenshot of scrapbook page.  Fun to see our review was directly under another review of the New York City Ballet by Jennifer Dunning.  Much easier to read the review by clipping on this link:

 

[print_link]

Keeping Up With What is Happening in the Dance World

It’s been nearly 20 years since I retired as director/choreographer of The Avodah Dance Ensemble and left New York City to begin a new chapter of my life.  I still very much want to know what is happening in the dance world.  At first, I made regular trips back to New York City, attending concerts and meeting with my dance friends.  Gradually the trips became less and less frequent, and since living in Costa Rica for four years, I have only made one trip back.  Even though I paint and write, my true passion is still dance and it is important for me to keep up with what is happening in the dance world.  For this blog I want to share with you a few ways I have been doing this, and welcome you to suggest other ways.

COVID proved to be helpful because various companies offered events online. Now there are less of those, although Jacob’s Pillow continues to have some.

A daily email I get Monday through Friday has been extremely helpful, and I want to highly recommend it.  It’s called The Dance Edit, and it announces “the news moving the dance world.” It is a publication of DanceMedia.com which includes Dance Magazine, Dance Teacher, Pointe and other monthly magazines. They have weekly newsletters along with The Dance Edit (which they call a petit daily newsletter).  I love The Dance Edit because in just a sentence it describes a news item in the world of dance, along with a link where you can read more about it.

Here’s a sample of some items that intrigued me:

Choreographer Christopher Gattelli taught Timothée Chalamet to tap for Wonkaand says Chalamet “worked his butt off.” (Dance Spirit)

The National Ballet of Ukraine is embarking on a 10-city Canadian tour, raising money to bring aid to Ukrainian families, and giving the dancers a chance to show their country’s resilience. (Pointe)

Beyoncé’s Renaissance World Tour dancer Kevin “Konkrete” Davis Jr. shares how he got the gig, his favorite part of the show, and more. (KQED)

Remembering Maurice Hines’ wide-reaching legacy as a song-and-dance man. Hines died last week at the age of 80. (The New York Times)

Misty Copeland hasn’t performed onstage in three years—and though she plans to return eventually, she’s looking towards the next chapter of her career. (BBC)

Sarah Kaufman, the Washington Post dance critic who was laid off in 2022, leaving just one full-time critic job in the U.S., on why dance criticism is important. (Maryland Theatre Guide)

 Dance Data Project’s 2023 U.S. Dance Festivals Report reveals that 50% of the works presented at dance festivals this year were choreographed by women. (Dance Data Project)

As you can see, there is huge diversity in the type of articles that The Dance Edit shares.  There are always one or two pieces from its sister publications Dance Magazine and Dance Teacher.  I am pleasantly surprised at the variety of sources that have published articles about dance, and The Dance Edit’s one-liners often motivate me to click on the link to learn more.

The Dance Edit and Facebook posts by friends are my main resources for keeping up with dance news.  I look forward to hearing suggestions from you.

Below is the screenshot of The Dance Edit home page.

[print_link]

A Sijo Poem for the Winter Solstice

I was introduced to the Korean sijo in a recent poetry class I took.   The teacher mentioned it along with haiku and invited us to explore one of the forms.  Since I spent some time last year writing haiku and creating watercolors to accompany text, I was intrigued to delve into this new form I was hearing about for the first time.

What is sijo?  The Poetry Foundation provides a place to start:

A Korean verse form related to haiku and tanka and comprised of three lines of 14-16 syllables each, for a total of 44-46 syllables. Each line contains a pause near the middle, similar to a caesura, though the break need not be metrical. The first half of the line contains six to nine syllables; the second half should contain no fewer than five.

While the form is not as well-known as haiku, a little more research found some treasured classics translated into the English.  This one by Yun Seon Do (1587 – 1671) particularly caught my attention.

You ask how many friends I have? Water and stone, bamboo and pine,
The moon rising over the eastern hill is a joyful comrade.
Besides these five companions, what other pleasure should I ask?

There are regular writing contests for haiku and groups that meet in both the United States and Japan writing and sharing haiku.  There is not as much activity happening with sijo although I did discover that the Sejong Cultural Society has a writing competition.  The Sejong Cultural Society’s purpose is to “advance awareness and understanding of Korea’s cultural heritage among people in the United States by reaching out to the younger generation through contemporary creative and fine arts.”

In the past few weeks I have written several sijo.  I liked the fact that sijo were often shared as songs, sometimes with drum accompaniment.  Soon I was thinking of simple choreography that might fit one of the poems I had written.  Why not explore writing sijo and creating dance movements to accompany the words?  I had fun doing just that.

This sijo is for the winter solstice.

 December darkness descends: fewer hours of sunlight.

Energy emerges from friendships — reach out to each other —

Recognize your inner light: open your heart with joyful love!

And here is a link where you can see the movement.  I invite you to do the simple movement with me.  https://vimeo.com/895910726

When I shared my sijo and movement with the poetry class, one of the members asked if she might share it with her church group.  I was very touched by the request, and that was part of my motivation for figuring out how to video it to share with others.

When I was working with haiku, I created over thirty haiku with watercolor illustration and selected some to share online in this blog.  https://mostlydance.com/2023/03/24/an-experiment-writing-haiku-with-accompanying-watercolor/   While I haven’t decided yet whether to create a series of sijo with accompanying movement, I am intrigued by the idea.

In Costa Rica, being so close to the equator, we only experience a small change in the balance of light and dark each day.  This particular year I am feeling the darkness more.  Let’s light candles and call forth our inner light to remind ourselves that each day after the winter solstice there will be a bit more light. 

[print_link]

Episode 33: The Universal Dancer Podcast – I’m Interviewed by Leslie Zehr

Leslie Zehr is a wonderful host and interviewer, and even though this was my first podcast, she immediately put me at ease. We had a delightful, fun conversation where I was able to share my journey from dancing as a toddler while my grandmother played the piano, through my dance education at the Graham Studio and The Juilliard School, to the creation of the Avodah Dance Ensemble.  Her questions enabled me to discuss the transformative power of dance, as we explored how dance is a method of empowerment and healing in women’s correctional institutions, and how it led to filmmaking and in particular the film Through the Door: Movement and Meditation as Part of Healing with domestic violence survivors.

Each month since January 31, 2021, Leslie has produced a different Podcast, all designed to inspire “a community of like-minded souls seeking to understand the cosmic dance of co-creation through the sacred arts.”   She wants to expand minds, ignite creativity and explore something new and something old.

Leslie is a sacred arts teacher, workshop leader, mentor and author of two books, The Alchemy of Dance and The Al-chemia Remedies.  While she was born in Peru and educated in the United States, she lives in Egypt, where for more than 30 years she has supported women “to reconnect to the Divine Feminine within through the mysteries of ancient Egypt.”

The Podcast series covers a range of subjects. Some examples are: Let Your Yoga Dance; Sacred Self Care Chakradance; A Roundtable Discussion of the Importance of Movement and Dance in Children’s Lives; and Japanese Butoh.

While the Podcast is not done live, Leslie does no editing, so I knew that I had to be as clear and focused as I could be.  When the interview was over, we had a few minutes to check in about how it went.  I expressed my gratitude to Leslie for her warmth, and we both agreed we had fun sharing together.  The interview is available to listen to as a podcast and to watch on YouTube.

Link to Podcast Platforms:

https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/leslie-zehr/episodes/JoAnne-Tucker–Author-of-Torah-in-Motion-Creating-Dance-Midrash-and-the-Mostly-Dance-Blog-e2cdonl

Link to YouTube: https://youtube.com/live/7KP8B3mATwU

Screenshot from YouTube. I like this moment because you can see we are both having fun!

 

 

 

The National Symphony of Costa Rica

What a delight to open my email on September 26 and see a flyer of an upcoming event for Friday, October 20th in San Jose.  Democrats Abroad were inviting members to an open rehearsal of The National Symphony of Costa Rica in the National Theater.

I was excited because one of the challenges I have faced living in Costa Rica is finding stimulating cultural activities that are in English or at least don’t require knowing Spanish as a prerequisite to enjoyment.  I RSVPed, filling out the form with both my Passport Number and Temporary Residency number, which were required for attendance.  As the days grew closer to the event, the chance to be transported by beautiful music was indeed a very welcome relief in these difficult times.

I had never been in the National Theater and so the time spent waiting in the lobby before the doors opened was very special.  We were surrounded on three sides by beautiful classical sculpture.

Once the doors opened, we were escorted into the orchestra part of the auditorium.  My friend and I decided to sit as close as we could, in the fourth row just behind where the musicians had left their instrument cases.

Carl St. Clair, the Conductor and Orchestra Director, welcomed us while behind him musicians were still busy tuning their instruments.  St. Clair has an impressive background, having studied conducting with Leonard Bernstein at Tanglewood.  He has conducted various symphonies throughout Europe and the United States.  Since 1990 he has been the Musical Director and Conductor of the Pacific Symphony located in Southern California with performing venues in Irvine and Costa Mesa, CA.  In 2013 he was appointed Principal Conductor of the Costa Rican Symphony.

He conducts with his whole body, and as a choreographer I loved watching him.  I could sense the music flowing through his veins.  It was also very meaningful to be able to hear — in part Spanish and part English — his notes to the orchestra, and then to hear the improvement when they replayed a section of a piece.

The program was varied.  The first piece, which he carefully rehearsed, requiring repetition of quite a few sections, was by a Costa Rican composer, William Porras.  The piece, written 25 years ago, is called Rhapsody for Orchestra and is dynamic and dramatic.  The composer was at the rehearsal, and after the orchestra finished working on the piece, the musicians were given a break and St. Clair introduced us to Porras.

Although we were not aware of anything unusual during the rehearsal, I learned a few days after the two performances that the performance that evening had marked the first time in the 83-year history of the symphony that a woman, Rebecca Medrano Munoz, was the concertmaster during an official season concert. The Costaricatimes reviewed the Friday night performance:

The theatre’s air was thick with anticipation as Medrano, with a bow as her baton, led the orchestra through an unforgettable night. It was a performance she had dreamt of and practiced for all her life, a magnum opus that reverberated with hopes, dreams, and extraordinary talent. The audience, wrapped in the symphony’s grandeur, embraced the landmark moment with applause as stirring as the music itself.  https://www.costaricantimes.com/a-striking-crescendo-costa-ricas-national-symphony-sees-first-female-concertmaster-in-official-season/75460

The rehearsal continued with Brahms Double Concerto for Violin and Cello, Opus 102 with soloists Fernando Munoz (violin) and Alvaro Gonzalez (cello).  St. Clair especially rehearsed the transitions between soloists and orchestra.  My heart soared listening to this beautiful piece.

St. Clair going over one of the transitions with Gonzalez, the cello soloist.

The program ended with two playful pieces by Ravel, Mother Goose Suite and Bolero.  In Bolero, it was particularly interesting to watch the drummer, whose chair was moved  directly in front of the conductor, and who keeps a continual beat throughout. St. Clair stopped the piece several times to check with an assistant in the back of the auditorium to make sure the drum and the orchestra were properly balanced.

Following the rehearsal, the 45 of us in attendance had lunch at the Alma de Café located in the National Theater.  We had preordered our lunches, and they did an amazing job getting each of us what we had individually ordered.

Thank you, Democrats Abroad in Costa Rica, for sponsoring this event.   It provided a wonderful break from the distressing world news.

All of photos by JoAnne.

[print_link]

 

Can you go home again?

That is the question coming to mind for me right now.  By “home,” I mean my spiritual home.  There have been times in my life when I have experienced transcendence, by which I mean losing my sense of self, and becoming one with the moment and people I am interacting with, so that the moment exceeds the ordinary.

This has happened to me when I have been dancing or improvising, mainly dancing as part of liturgy or in an improvisation based on a Torah portion.  And it hasn’t happened very often.  It has also occasionally happened with a simple improvisational exercise like mirroring when the person whom I am partnering and I become one.

When I was performing, it happened only after I really knew the choreography so well that I didn’t need to think about the movement or the space I was in.  I remember a performance one Sunday morning at Rodef Shalom in Pittsburgh where I had been coached by a good friend and fellow dancer, Lynne Wimmer.  We were to be part of the morning service, integrating our piece of In Praise into the liturgy.  I had a short solo, following the silent prayer, to the liturgy “May the Words of my Mouth.”  Lynne had coached me to fully use my hands in each movement phrase and as I reached out in a circle to the congregation.  This was an opportunity to take everyone in and reach to the back row. That morning my performance transcended how I usually did the piece, and at the same moment, the sun poured in through the stained glass windows.

As director of the company, I often saw when a dancer knew a particular solo or piece of choreography so well that they became one with the moment.  That was a joy to watch, and I felt my energy totally with them.

On one occasion, the transcendence happened when I was leading a Doctor of Ministry Class at Hebrew Union College and we were dancing a line of text from the Torah.  I don’t remember the line of text, and in a way it wasn’t important. It was the second class of a 12-week course, and I had decided to introduce the group to improvisational movement. None of the participants were dancers.  They were rabbis and ministers, open to experiencing something new but not totally sure about dance.  We began and continued for about 20 minutes without saying anything, sometimes moving alone, sometimes with one other person or with three or four people.  There was no music.  We were focused and intent on interpreting the line of text and interacting with each other.  At some point which seemed right, I said, “Let’s bring it to a close.” We did, and then quietly sat down.  No one spoke for a long time.  I didn’t want to break the silence.  We all knew we had become a total group together and that a spiritual experience had been had by all.  Slowly people began to express their feelings. I finally ended by saying that in the second class they had gone beyond my purpose in teaching the entire course.

As time progressed, as director of the dance company which was very much rooted in the Jewish tradition, I found that my original reasons for starting the company were fading.  My first reason had been that the prayers (particularly in the English translation) were difficult for me. I knew that they had been around for a long time and felt that maybe if I studied them and used dance to interpret them, I would find their meaning. In a way that did happen in the creative process when I and whomever I was collaborating with brought ourselves to the prayer. And some of the songs that had been written for the prayers stimulated and inspired movement.  Not understanding Hebrew was a plus. The original language seemed to fit the prayer, but for me, when the prayer was translated into English, that was where I had a problem and definitely still do.

The other main reason for starting the company had been to see if I could find the woman’s voice, particularly in the Torah. So for years I did what in the Jewish tradition is called creating “midrash.”

Midrash is an interpretive act, seeking the answers to religious questions (both practical and theological by plumbing the meaning of Torah……Midrash responds to contemporary problems and crafts new stories, making connections between new Jewish realities and the unchanging biblical text.  https://www.myjewishlearning.com/article/midrash-101/

I explored text, using dance to create midrash, seeking the woman’s voice in that text.  While it was great fun exploring in this way, and eventually co-authoring a book called Torah in Motion: Creating Dance Midrash, I began to feel more and more disappointed and discouraged to realize how patriarchal the Torah and prayers were, and I wasn’t satisfied with just adding a female biblical name to a prayer or creating a midrash on Sarah.  I learned from a rabbi friend of mine that in the 1970’s when the women’s movement in religion began in earnest, some women explored midrash and others found they needed a whole new study.  I realized I was now at the point of needing a new story.

When 9/11 happened in NYC, I lived just across the river, and the towers were part of my neighborhood. I was deeply affected by the event.  A few weeks later a friend took me to hear Thich Nhat Hanh at Riverside Church.  I was fascinated.  Here was a different way to look at your enemies.  During the fall, Sharon Saltzman, Joseph Goldstein and Sylvia Boorstein all offered workshops in NYC.  I liked what I was hearing and began a meditation practice.  I also liked the emphasis of sending wishes of kindness to all people – whether your family, or the person you have the most difficulty with– or as Thich Nhat Hahn would say, “giving your enemy a gift.”  It became increasingly hard for me to say the prayer for peace in Israel as there was no extension to wish for peace for all (non-terrorist) people.  I continue to be troubled by this.  Yes, I very much want peace in Israel and will pray for it; however I also will pray for peace for the Palestinians.  Real peace will only happen when both have peace and neither one has been conquered.

For nearly twenty years I have thought of myself as a BuJew (Buddhist/Jew).  I went regularly to dharma talks and often weekend retreats at Upaya Zen Center in Santa Fe.  I continued my meditation practice. During COVID I even increased my meditative practice, thrilled with all that was available online, especially at Upaya.  I was fascinated with The Hidden Lamp, “a collection of one hundred koans and stories of Buddhist women from the time of Buddha to the present day.”

This revolutionary book brings together many teaching stories that were hidden for centuries, unknown until this volume. These stories are extraordinary expressions of freedom and fearlessness, relevant for men and women of any time or place. In these pages we meet nuns, laywomen practicing with their families, famous teachers honored by emperors, and old women selling tea on the side of the road.

Each story is accompanied by a reflection by a contemporary woman teacher—personal responses that help bring the old stories alive for readers today—and concluded by a final meditation for the reader, a question from the editors meant to spark further rumination and inquiry.  https://wisdomexperience.org/product/hidden-lamp/

I even began attending special workshops led by Sensei Zenshin Florence Caplow, happening nine or ten times a year, that looked at a different story each time and then encouraged us to write, based on key words that stood out to us.  I did that for two years, and then one time while doing it I had an aha moment:  in a way, I was doing midrash on another patriarchal religion.

I felt sad and a bit lost again.  This was not my story either.  I continued my meditation practice but I found myself less motivated to attend dharma talks.  I still held onto much of the philosophy of loving kindness, mindfulness, and offering prayer to all people.

Then this High Holiday season, I streamed services from Central Synagogue in NYC.  I had streamed them before and liked them.  This year was different.  I had lost over 30 lbs.  and could move/dance again and so I found myself inspired by quite a few of the traditional melodies like Hashivenu and V’al Kulam.  These were prayers I had previously choreographed, and since I was at home alone, I got up and danced.  A feeling I hadn’t experienced for years returned.  A spiritual high.  Central’s service is filled with the most amazing music.  Led by Angela Buchdahl, who is ordained as both a rabbi and a cantor, the services incorporate an outstanding selection of music, and even if I still have problems with the prayers in English, the music takes me to a spiritual place I haven’t been for a long time.  The sermons by all Central’s rabbis are thoughtful, and the congregation is involved in social action – even a prison project.

During COVID, Central Synagogue streamed and was excellent at building a large online following.  They then formalized the online streaming with a program they call The Neighborhood (I thought of Mr. Rogers and his neighborhood when I first heard its name), where people can join and participate in additional programs via Zoom.  I surprised myself and joined right after the Yom Kippur service.  So, the question I opened with… can one go home again?  I think so, with a new awareness.  My thoughts are I am the person who brings mindfulness and meditation from a twenty-plus-year regular practice, to find transcendence in dance by becoming the prayer or text rooted in my Jewish tradition.

[print_link]

 

Odd Thing to Find on eBay

One evening, just a few weeks ago, I opened my email to find a short message from Kezia: “Odd Thing to Find on Ebay,” with an attached link.  (ebay.com/itm/354622198330?chn=ps&mkevt=1&mkcid=28.)  Of course, my curiosity was strongly triggered so I followed the link and was surprised to find a 1983 photo of The Avodah Dance Ensemble.  The photo was for sale from a company called Historic Images.

I immediately recognized the photo, as it was one of my favorites, taken by photographer Amanda Keglow, and I regularly used it for publicity for several years.  It was both amusing and surprising to find it on eBay and realize that it was considered a vintage object. I wondered how it got there, and notes on the back of the photo referred to a Jewish Community Center in January of 1983, and correctly identified the four dancers in the picture. It did not say which Jewish Community Center.  I wondered which tour it was.  Luckily, I had email addresses for, and had remained in contact with the four dancers who were in the picture, so I put together a group email to them: Rick, Lynne, Roberta, and Nanette, to ask if any of them might remember which JCC we performed at in January 1983.  It wasn’t long before I got an email from Rick: “JCC New Orleans??”

Aha… now I could easily check that information and learn more about the tour by going to the digital images of the ten volumes of Avodah scrapbooks now housed at the American Jewish Archives in Cincinnati.

The first thing I discovered was that the four dancers in the photo were not the ones on the tour.  Rick and Roberta were, but Lynne and Nanette were not.  I had contact information for Roberta so I immediately added her to the email chain.  Luckily, even though she had recently retired from her job, her IT person kindly forwarded my email to her.  I wasn’t so lucky with the other dancer, Dircella.  While I had an email for her and added her to the chain, it wasn’t until several weeks later that I researched and found her on FB, messengered her and got her correct email. The fourth dancer was Naomi, and I had not kept in touch with her.  I Googled and found that she had passed.

Naomi was a very gifted dancer, who had retired from the Jose Limon company when I was holding auditions.  She danced with us only briefly. I found her obituary very informative; here is a link to it:   https://www.inquirer.com/obituaries/naomi-mindlin-obituary-philadelphia-limon-dance-company-university-arts-20220920.html.

The tour began on January 21, 1983, in Birmingham, AL at Temple Emanu El.  Roberta’s mother had sung in the choir at this Temple.  Roberta was currently in Tallahassee, FL, where I was also living, so we drove to Birmingham together.  The other dancers were due to fly from New York and join us.  Their flight was late, but they made it in time for us to have a quick rehearsal.

Following the Friday night performance, which was part of the Shabbat service, our next performance was in Montgomery, AL.  It was my 40th birthday, and the dancers arranged for cupcakes backstage and sang “Happy Birthday” at some point during rehearsal.  Rick and I were staying in a lovely house, and we fondly nicknamed the owner “The Mayonnaise King of the South,” as I think that was his business and he must have talked to us a lot about it.  There was also a review of the Saturday night concert in the local Montgomery newspaper.  The review, by Judith Helms, commented on the “strong modern dancers” and said, “Kaddish with the accomplished dancer, Ms Mindlen as Soloist, was the most beautiful and powerful of the dances.”

We were up early Sunday morning to drive to New Orleans, where we performed at the Jewish Community Center that evening.  And that is where the photo on eBay was part of the publicity for the concert.  What stands out in my memory of that performance was that the technician running the lighting board left in the middle of one of the pieces, either to go to the bathroom or have a cigarette, and left me not only to call the cues but to figure out how to handle the light board.

After an intense three days with performances each night in a different city, the rest of the tour was easier.  Monday was a day off, followed by a performance on Tuesday in Baton Rouge.

On Friday night we were part of the service at Temple Beth El in San Antonio, and having had  some days off, we were refreshed for the performance.  We also had some very nice home hospitality and got to enjoy a bit of sightseeing in San Antonio.  A piece that Rick Jacobs and I had collaborated on, M’Vakshei Or, was a featured part of the service.  That week’s Torah portion was Beshalach from Exodus which tells of the Jewish people’s crossing of the Red Sea.  M’Vakshei Or had set choreography that opened and closed the piece.  The middle section was an improvisation based on the week’s Torah portion.  It was always great fun for me to watch these improvisations.  I remember vividly Rick leaping off the bema and dancing up the aisle, bringing to mind the traditional midrash of Nachshon who, while others hesitated, boldly jumped into the water, helping the waters to part and the community to follow.

Our final performance was in Galveston, Texas and I remember how wonderful it was that after the performance we got to hang out in a hot tub and relax.  Rick, Naomi and Dircelia flew back to New York City, and Roberta and I drove back to Tallahassee, during which trip we experienced a pretty intense rainstorm.

It has been very meaningful to me to keep in touch with dancers who shared their talent with Avodah.  So let me catch you up on what the dancers mentioned in this blog are currently doing.

Di Rodin (Dircelia) lives in Hawaii and is the owner of Dance Movement Academy and K-Bay Gymnastics.

Lynne Elliot is a graphic designer living in New York City.

Nanette Joslyn King is a retired lawyer living in California.

Rick Jacobs (Rabbi) is the president of the Union for Reform Judaism based in New York City.

Roberta Behrendt Fliss was former Director of Production for Young Arts and now has her own company, Moonstone Management, and lives in Florida.

I close with these lines that Rick shared as part of our email exchange:

In my current role I’ve been back in many of the congregations and JCCs that we performed in.  People still talk about our performances and services.  Grateful for all the hearts Avodah opened.

And here is the original photo, from the Avodah Scrapbook:

From l. to r. Rick Jacobs, Lynne Elliott, Roberta Behrendt, Nanette Joslyn. Photo by Amanda Keglow.

[print_link]

Chopping in the Kitchen

If you are a regular reader of this blog, you might have noticed that I haven’t been writing as much as usual. The last two blogs were a review of a book, and they took a lot longer to write than other blogs.  The second reason is that I have been doing a lot of dancing in the kitchen!  Chopping, sauteing, spinning around and chopping some more.  The chopping seems to go on and on forever.  The reason behind this is I am now eating a totally plant-based diet.

Here are some bowls of chopped veggies and beans ready for an eggplant recipe.

In March I noticed some swelling in my ankles, and I decided to do some research on the best way to eat in order to keep my health good and strong.  Everything I read led me to a vegan way of eating.  I did that for about a month with some help from an English-speaking general nutritionist here in Costa Rica, who had only some idea of what a good vegan diet is. I decided to get my blood tested.  I wasn’t pleased with the results and soon began to realize I was eating too many processed vegan products. So I searched for a doctor either here in Costa Rica or online who could help me with the proper way to go on a vegan diet.

Much to my delight I found an excellent doctor, Dr. Miranda Graham, who calls herself a VeganMD and lives less than an hour from my house.  I have learned so much from her.  My first visit was in person.  She suggested using Cronometer, which is a website for a computer (or there is an app for the phone).  I am under her account, where I log in, and she monitors what I am eating and makes suggestions. There is a free version one can use on their own.  It has been very helpful.  For example, I love it when she says my Vitamin A is too low, so make sure I add some carrots to my daily diet.  I am now at the point where I can look at my food page and see the kind of foods I need to add in my diet for dinner to make sure I am getting all the nutrients that I need for the day.

The result is that my blood work has improved, I have more energy and I weigh less.  I don’t think of this as a diet.  Rather I think of this as my new lifestyle.  I am enjoying finding new recipes and trying different foods.  There are so many wonderful resources on the Internet.  My favorites are https://foodrevolution.org,  https://www.drfuhrman.com, and https://www.forksoverknives.com.

Living in Costa Rica makes plant based eating easy, as there are always lots of fresh fruits and vegetables available.  Each Thursday I enjoy going to the Feria (Farmer’s Market), and as a regular, I always get a friendly greeting from the various vendors.

Shopping at the Feria del Agricultor de Atenas. Photo by Manrique
Here I am, with energy and a slimmer look, leading some guests on a walk on the labyrinth. Photo by Ed Needham

[print_link]