JoAnne Tucker shares her experiences in dance from directly a modern dance company to leading movement activities for women in prison and domestic violence survivors.
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:
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.
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 TheDance 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 TheDance Edit’s one-liners often motivate me to click on the link to learn more.
TheDance Edit and Facebook posts by friends are my main resources for keeping up with dance news. I look forward to hearing suggestions from you.
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.
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.
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 Alchemyof 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.
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 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.
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.
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.
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.
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 ManriqueHere I am, with energy and a slimmer look, leading some guests on a walk on the labyrinth. Photo by Ed Needham
In the last blog , I reviewed this informative book. In this blog, I will share thoughts, insights and new awareness that I gained from reading the book. In May of 2004, I moved from New York City, leaving my role as Artistic Director and choreographer of The Avodah Dance Ensemble, a small modern dance company that I founded in 1974. I often went back to NYC, at first twice a year, enjoying catching up on some dance, especially with dance companies I already knew. Luckily, I spent the summers through 2009 in Steamboat Springs, Colorado, where Perry-Mansfield Performing Arts Camp is located. Linda Kent, then Director of the dance program, brought many up-and-coming modern dance artists to Camp and I thoroughly enjoyed seeing performances and sometimes watching classes and rehearsals. With COVID and the move to Costa Rica, I have only made one trip back to NYC, and that was in June 2022. Of course, over the years I followed dance by reading articles and reviews in various online newspapers such as The New York Times, paying attention to Instagram, Facebook posts, Dance Magazine and other online sources. This is not the same as being intimately involved in dance on a day-to-day basis, as I was before. In writing this, I am amazed that it has now been just over 19 years since I made a major life change. Reading Milestones in Dance in the USA caught me up to date in some dance trends I was not aware of and reminded me of dance experiences I hold dear in my memory.
Before getting into specifics of the book, I also want to point out that reading the book made me aware of how limited I was in exploring the full range of dance happening around me in NYC. I stayed pretty focused on mainstream modern dance while occasionally attending a ballet performance or the latest Broadway musical. Milestones in Dance in the USA let me know about dancers, companies and trends that I had had only limited knowledge about, although they had been happening around me. There were also areas in the book where I simply had no knowledge at all about what happened in that genre of dance.
I wonder if others have experienced being passionately involved in a career and realizing (either at the time or later) how focused their attention has been on their particular niche and how unaware they have been of trends going on around them. Having retired 19 years ago, I wanted to catch up on “new” happenings. It is good to read a book like this and fill in some of those spaces.
I begin by sharing some information I got from the very first of the 10 chapters, “Native American Dance and Engaged Resistance.” The chapter was written by Robin Prichard, who begins with a dedication honoring “my ancestors, the Tsalagihi Ayeli, also known as the Cherokee . . . and the original inhabitants and stewards of the land on which I wrote this article.” She is a choreographer and Fulbright Fellow who undertook a cross-cultural choreography project between Australian Aboriginal and contemporary Dance and has taught at several colleges in the United States and Australia.
The article opens with information she will expand on:
Native American dances are the oldest continuing dance traditions of the North American continent, containing unparalleled diversity in content, meaning and practices. . . . The story of Native American dance tells a distinctly American story of Indigenous lifeways, followed by slavery, genocide, and forced assimilation, as well as resistance and renewal.
She points out how dance held a venerated place in North American cultures as a carrier and creator of knowledge and lifeways during the 15,000 years before European ships “ran aground on the continent.”
The fact that Native Americans use dance to resist assimilation and continue their culture is demonstrated by the concern of the federal government and the hundreds of official restrictions and bans on dance that “the federal government produced in the decades between 1880 and 1930.”
She goes in depth into one dance in particular, The Ghost Dance, describing how “it was meant to bring an end to White colonial rule and restore Native Americans, who would be joined by their ancestors to live peacefully on earth.”
Dance was not just a leisure activity; rather it served as a way “to stay Native American, to continue essential lifeways, and to survive into the 20th century.” In contrast she shared how Wild West Show (a category of shows) used “Indians” doing dances and horseback riding to appear as symbols of the past.
The end of this detailed and well-written chapter focuses on Powwow Dances which developed into “the largest expression of Native American culture with hundreds each year across the USA and Canada.” She points out that “Powwow dance and music have been present at every major Native American civil rights protest of the 20th century.” Specific dances that are part of the Powwow are described, such as: The Round Dance, “a social dance of friendship in which every person is encouraged to join,” and The Jingle Dress dances, which have become “visible manifestations of Indigenous healing in both Native America and Black Lives Matter protests.”
She summarizes:
Resilient and adaptable, dance reinforces social, cultural, psychological, economic, and political ideals. Intertribal dance celebrates widely shared Indigenous Institutions and values while also continuing tribal-specific dance cultures.
She ends with a poem by Alcatraz poet Cheryl Ann Payne:
The layers and layers of concrete could not
stop the flowing of spirit between the Land
and her People
We danced the Spirit back into the Land
Hannah Kosstrin’s chapter on “Dancing for Social Change in the 20th and 21st Centuries” stood out for me because as a choreographer I shared this desire for my work. She begins:
When people dance with the goal of making the world a better place, they are dancing for social change. Social action drove many choreographers in the United States of American during the 20th and 21st centuries. Occurring on the concert stage and in community settings, dance for social change includes: work that engages social problems to change people’s minds or inspire them to enact change; work that offers viewpoints other than culturally dominant ones; and community-based dance efforts for empowerment and liberation.
She goes on to give specific examples:
The workers dance movement (1920-1940’s) for workers’ rights, egalitarianism and anti-racism. She gives many examples including discussing the work of Anna Sokolow, Sophie Maslow, Jane Dudley, Charles Weidman, Pearl Primus, and Katherine Dunham.
Choreographing Postwar Change to “make audience members feel like they are witnesses to onstage atrocities that inspire them to take action.” Anna Sokolow’s piece Rooms is cited for how it depicts feelings of isolation and alienation.” Donald McKayle’s Rainbow ‘Round My Shoulder shows the plight of Black men on a prison chain gang. Alvin Ailey’s Revelations is about representation and opportunity. Some of Jose Limon’s works foreshadowed the Chicano Movement and mentored Native American students. Eiko and Koma in 1991 “embedded dances within specific sites in calls for environmental justice.” Anna Halprin and Liz Lerman used “dance practices to bring communities together mobilizing the Jewish concept of ‘tikkun olam,’ healing the world.”
Mobilizing Sexualities began in the 1980’s when choreographers began making autobiographical dances. “Many mobilized their gender and sexuality identities for social change through representation and collective action.” Bill T. Jones and his “first life and artistic partner Arnie Zane” were leaders in this movement. Arthur Aviles, “a choreographer of Puerto Rican heritage . . . puts dance at the center of queer social justice community building.” Jennifer Monson and Elizabeth Streb, Lesbian choreographers, displayed queerness through how they used movement rather than themes.
Storytelling for Justice beginning in the 1990’s and continuing to 2020’s made pieces about historical injustices using their communities’ stories for social action. Jawole Willa Jo Zollar’s Urban Bush Women is an example of using Black Women to make pieces important to Black Women. H.T. Chen, in the NY area, and Minh Tran in Portland, challenged anti-Asian sentiment in their work. There are mixed-ability dance companies using dances with multiple physicalities that provide opportunities for dancers whose bodies do not fit the norm of what is thought of as the dancing body. Three Black American choreographers, Kyle Abraham, Camille A. Brown and Jennifer Harge, create works related to the Black Experience in the 2010’s to 2020’s. Discussion of the works of two current Indigenous choreographers, Rulan Tangen and Patrick Makuakane, illustrate storytelling for sovereignty and environmental justice. Jody Sperling, who danced on sea ice in the Arctic in 2014, is included, as well as Mexicanx-American artist Fabiola Ochoa Torralba’s work calling for climate recognition and rights of people on society’s margin.
This is an intense chapter filled with lots of information. It resonated with me because I was familiar with so many of the choreographers and pieces that are mentioned, and it was interesting to see them put in this context. I, too, found that a lot of my interest in choreographing pieces had an underlying call for social change.
The last chapter I want to share is by Joanna Dee Das: “Challenging the Distinction between Art and Entertainment: Dance in Musical Theater.” Musical theater holds a passionate place in my heart, as I have been involved in both directing and choreographing community productions and am an enthusiastic Broadway attendee. I was curious what new things I would learn from Dee Das.
In her introduction she poses some interesting questions and states the purpose of the chapter:
If George Balanchine can create “Slaughter on Tenth Avenue” and have it called entertainment when a part of the musical On Your Toes (1936) and art when performed by members of the New York City Ballet in 1968, then we must question the root of this art/entertainment distinction. Musical theater choreographers operate under a different set of constraints than those working in concert dance, but those constraints lead to creative work that is no less worthy. This chapter will demonstrate how race, gender, and ideas of artistic independence, originality and authenticity shape how dance is classified.
She shares how dance in early musical theater had two influences, European ballet extravaganzas that began in the US in the 1860’s and the Africanist aesthetic of Black American social and theatrical dance. The first major transformation of Broadway dance was in 1921 in the musical Shuffle Along where dance became central to the “energy and motion of a Broadway show.” There was such a reaction to this all-Black cast and all-Black creative team that The Ziegfeld Follies of 1922 had a number called “It’s Getting Dark on Old Broadway.”
Interestingly, Martha Graham in 1930 referred to existing theatrical dance as a “handmaiden of music, of drama, even of costumes and stage sets and equally obscene in their lack of artistic integrity.” Dee Das points out how this led to an inauguration of concert dance as separate from Broadway entertainment. It was not only the dancers that expressed this division, but also critics of the period such as John Martin, Edwin Denby and Clement Greenberg.
That separation didn’t mean that ballet choreographers or concert dancers didn’t become involved in Broadway productions. George Balanchine is one example; Katherine Dunham is another who “blurred the Broadway/concert dance, entertainment/art lines.”
In the 1940’s there were many examples of crossover between modern dance and Broadway. Helen Tamiris choreographed Up in Central Park and Hanya Holm did Kiss Me Kate. At the same time there was also a movement to make “ordinary jazz routine” have power. As choreographer Robert Alton says, “I have exactly six minutes to raise the customer out of his seat. If I cannot do it, I am no good.”
Of course, most of us are familiar with how Agnes de Mille influenced Broadway dance in Oklahoma! and Dee Das reminds us that “de Mille’s choreography in Oklahoma! furthered the plot and developed characters’ emotional arcs.” Following de Mille, Dee Das points out that Jerome Robbins became the “standard-bearer for musical theater choreography” and he enjoyed success on both Broadway and in the ballet world. He is known for musicals such as Peter Pan, West Side Story and Fiddler on the Roof, and for being both the director and the choreographer of shows.
In the 1970’s and 80’s Michael Bennet, Gower Champion and Bob Fosse were important figures in Broadway choreography. Fosse followed Jerome Robbins’ pattern of serving as both director and choreographer and developed his own style, which is pointed out as a “cynical depiction of female sexuality.” An example is given in “Big Spender” from Sweet Charity where the women “thrust their pelvises jerkily and aggressively.”
The next trend wasn’t until the 1990’s when George C. Wolfe as director, and dancers Gregory Hines and Savion Glover brought a trio of musicals that showed an “African aesthetic of tap dance and its capacity to carry history and memory.” For example, in Bringin ‘Da Noise, Bring in ‘Da Funk, “the story of the survival of “the beat,” as expressed through tap dance, became the metaphor for the Black experience in the United States . . . .”
The Avodah Dance Ensemble worked with Children Living in Temporary Housing. One year we arranged for the group to attend a performance of Bring in ‘Da Noise, Bring in ‘Da Funk. In the front row of this photo (dark shirt, light pants) is Elizabeth McPherson, editor of Milestones in Dance in the USA. I took the picture.
The chapter goes on to discuss how choreographers and dancers continue to cross over between the different dance worlds. In the very successful Hamilton, premiered in 2015, Andy Blankenbuehler created a “parallel physical score,” where dance moved seamlessly throughout the musical. The style of movement is unique, fitting each of the scenes as “he combines various forms of hip-hop with musical theater’s ballet/tap/theatrical jazz . . . . ”
Dee Das concludes the chapter by pointing out that the question needs to shift to “how musical theater dance’s kinesthetic contributions balance with other aural and visual media to communicate with audience members and create pleasure.”
While certainly all the chapters deserve mention and held my interest, these three had particular appeal. All the chapters in this book are well researched, and I have only given you a taste of the scholarship each author brings to their topic. This book is an outstanding resource not only for dance history courses but for those individuals who want to explore dance in the United States from a variety of perspectives.
I just finished reading this eye-opening book, and I had planned to write a review. As I begin to write, I realize there is more I want to say than simply to review an excellent book. In this blog I will point why this work was very much needed and how Dr. McPherson developed the collection. I’ll include a brief overview of the book. In my next blog, I will explore my reaction as a retired dancer/choreographer/artistic director, and note particular chapters that were important in helping me to better understand both the times during which I was very active in the dance world, and where things have evolved to now.
Let me begin by saying I have a friendship with Elizabeth McPherson, so as I continue this blog I will be referring to her as Elizabeth. Elizabeth performed for 8 years in the company that I directed. We have continued to stay in touch since then. I have written articles for the quarterly Dance Education in Practicewhich she edits. We presented a workshop on Helen Tamiris at the 2018 Jews and Jewishness in the Dance World conference. Recently she visited me in Costa Rica, spending time working on a biography of Helen Tamiris.
Milestones in Dance in the USA was one of two books that received the 2023 Ruth Lovell Murray award from the National Dance Education Organization (NDEO). In recognizing the book, the organization provided the following description:
Designed for weekly use in dance history courses, it traces dance in the USA as it broke traditional forms, crossed genres, provoked social and political change, and drove cultural exchange and collision. The authors put a particular focus on those whose voices have been silenced, unacknowledged, and/or uncredited – exploring racial prejudice and injustice, intersectional feminism, protest movements, and economic conditions, as well as demonstrating how socio-political issues and movements affect and are affected by dance. https://www.ndeo.org/Membership/Awards/Ruth-Lovell-Murray-Book-Award
In a blog that Elizabeth wrote for NDEO in February, she describes her extensive background in taking and teaching dance history courses at the undergraduate and graduate level. She points out that most of the focus in such courses has been on showing how US dance has grown out of Western European aesthetics, and as a result, “many important and influential voices in dance have been less acknowledged and sometimes even silenced.” Her current dance history course seeks to highlight these voices.
In this same blog, Elizabeth describes how she was approached to be the editor of the book:
In the summer of 2020, after doing a peer review of a book for Taylor and Francis-Routledge, I was contacted by the publisher to gauge my interest in creating a textbook on the history of American Dance. Routledge was developing a Milestones series. Each book would be an edited collection of ten essays on various topics related to the overall theme.
Cover of the dance history book reviewed in this blog.
Drawing on her new approach to teaching dance history, Elizabeth selected ten authors who matched the new focus of her dance history course. The diverse authors were all very qualified to write on their specific subjects.
There is no better way to share the depth of the book and the authors than to list the ten chapters:
“Native American Dance and Engage Resistance” by Robin Prichard
“An American Take on Ballet” by Dawn Lille
“Black Women Keep the Tempo: The Impact of Black Women on Jazz and Tap Dance in the USA” by Alesondra Christman
“Gendered Politics and the Female Dancing Body” by Julie Kerr-Berry
“An Exploration of Inspiration, Imitation, and Cultural Appropriation in Dance in the USA” by Miriam Giguere
“Dancing for Social Change in the 20th and 21st Centuries” by Hannah Kosstrin
“Challenging the Distinction between Art and Entertainment: Dance in Musical Theater” by Joanna Dee Das
“Postmodern Dance: Laboratory of Rupture” by Emmanuele Phuon
“On Black Dance and Postmodern Representation from Black Power to Afro-Futurist Performance” by Carl Paris
“From The Serpentine to The Renegade: Milestones in Dance and Media Technology” by Jody Sperling.
I found each chapter fascinating, well researched and filled with new insights into the world of dance in the United States. One of the outstanding features of the book is the Further Reading List that each author gives at the end of their chapter. The materials include books, films, and Internet resources. Following that are the specific References that relate to the chapter. If one’s curiosity is peaked, there are lots of options for getting more information.
The Appendix of the book provides useful information for the reader. This includes a detailed Timeline of US history and dance in the US, a Glossary, and a Further Reading List which has sections for Books, Films and Videos, Internet Resources, Articles, Exhibits, and Journals.
Elizabeth has edited an outstanding book, not only as a textbook for dance history courses but also as an excellent resource in any college/university library for humanities courses. I highly recommend Milestones in Dance in the USA to any reader interested in getting a diverse perspective of the range of dance activities in the US. I learned a lot and in the next blog will share some of the information I found particularly fascinating.
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