Author: JoAnne Tucker

Touring in the United States – Part 1

JoAnne Tucker / / Avodah's Early History, dance liturgy, New York Company, Touring

I had planned to write this week about Avodah’s international tours, and workshops I led outside of the U.S.  But as I was thinking about that I became curious about how many U.S. states Avodah had performed in, and what I remember about touring in the U.S.  So for this blog and the next I am going to write about our domestic touring, in general terms, and include a few fun pictures, before turning my attention to international trips.

First of all, the Avodah Dance Ensemble visited 29 of the 50 United States, either performing or giving workshops — usually doing both. Some states we visited on just one tour and others with multiple tours. For me touring was one of the fun parts of directing the company and I kept in mind several things related to touring as I directed the company.  

I made sure we continued always as a small company that could fit into one car or at least a minivan.  I owned a minivan and we often rented one when we flew on tour.  I purposely kept it that way for two main reasons: economic in that we would only need to rent one vehicle when necessary, and my own personal minivan would work when possible; and personal/professional in that having only 5 to 7 personalities to work with (that included me) made sense to me.  I also made sure we were never gone more than about 10 to 12 days.  Even when we toured to the West Coast we left, for example, on a Thursday, had two weekends away and returned on a  Monday!  On our long tours to places like California and Florida we often had several full days off when we could sightsee and relax.

So what was it like.  When it was a one-day tour and I was using my own car we had a meeting place.  That place depended on where we were off to. If I had to drive through NYC (from New Jersey) then the meeting place was often in the West Village by the Washington Square Subway stop so that it was easy for the dancers to get to.  If I wasn’t going through the city and we were heading west or into South Jersey then we most often met close to where I lived, particularly when I lived in Jersey City.  I don’t remember any incidents where anyone was more than a little late. That is in sharp contrast to some times when we were taking an airplane.

Two particular times stand out when we boarded a plane and not all the dancers had arrived in a timely fashion at the airport.  For one flight to Sarasota, Florida one of the dancers simply wasn’t there when they started boarding the flight. So I left her ticket with an airline agent!  We boarded and clearly other passengers became aware that we were missing someone because when the dancer arrived at the last moment just before they were getting ready to close the doors, most of the plane applauded her. I don’t remember why she was late.

Then there was another trip when the percussionist (not our regular Newman who was always very prompt) did not make the plane at all.  Again I left his ticket and he did arrive on a later flight.  There was also a time when there was a blackout in NYC and there was an element of suspense about whether everyone would get to the airport on time, but if my memory serves me correctly we all did.  

Need I say these situations cause a certain level of anxiety, and I am so glad to report that over a nearly thirty-year period of touring those are the only incidents I have to share.  

Now, once on tour,  what is it like!  Well for short day trips we generally spent the day in the facility rehearsing, with one food trip out unless we had requested food be provided for us.  Grocery stories were a favorite for those day trips because we could each find something there to our liking to take back.  The rest of the day was spent adjusting the dance pieces to the performance space.  Often it was easy for spacing when we were performing in a theatre because the surface was flat and it was just determining which wings to go in and out.  The challenge there was often setting lighting.  Since Avodah didn’t have a stage manager, it was up to me to work with the lighting technician or crew in the theatre both determining what lighting was available and setting it for each piece.  My guideline was to keep it as simple as possible yet have it be effective for setting the moods of the pieces.  The most memorable lighting situation I ever had was in an outdoor festival in Long Island when it rained fairly hard and I was sitting under an umbrella in the rain in a lighting booth out in a field,  calling the cues for the performance.  Maybe we had one or two people in the audience and the dancers luckily were on a protected stage.  (Kezia says it was one man, there were puddles on stage, and the dancers were terrified I would be electrocuted.)

For both theater performances and when we integrated dance into the Friday night service I usually ran the sound.  

Picture taken at CAJE conference (Coalition for the Advancement of Jewish Education) where I am running the sound and the dancers are performing on a stage. 
 
Beth Millstein ironing a costume for a Friday night service while on tour. Avodah was an ensemble onstage and off; everyone ironed, mended, hauled and helped as needed.

A great deal of the time on a Friday afternoon we were preparing to integrate three pieces into the Friday night Shabbat service.  That meant spacing the three pieces on the bema (raised platform where the service is led). Now that could be a real challenge for several reasons: first of all, the bema usually was not just one level – often there were steps that led to different levels; second, its shape was not at all like the rehearsal studio we were used to; and third, it often took a lot of persuading to get most of the furniture off the bema so we would have maximum space for dancing.

Kezia (left) and Deborah Hanna on a break on tour.  We were rehearsing for a Friday night service and the preschool playground provided a perfect place for a break.

Each of these three reasons presented its own unique challenge and each had memorable moments for me.  First of all, levels.  I was always amazed at how the dancers could quickly adjust to so many different levels and manage literally to dance up and down the stairs.  One challenging bema was in South Orange, New Jersey and the dancers in the company in the early 80’s did a most amazing job with the many steps. While most of the company had gone back to the city after the Friday night service, Rick Jacobs (then in rabbinic school) and I stayed to lead a workshop with some teenagers.  We were no longer in the main sanctuary but rather in a smaller chapel.  As I was talking and demonstrating I managed to slip and fall down the maybe two steps.  The next thing I knew, Rick was falling down the steps, because he said as he fell, if the director falls then the dancer follows suit.  The kids laughed and I felt like a total idiot having watched the way the dancers negotiated the steps the night before!!

Irregular shapes were more common than not, and particularly challenging were long skinny bema’s where the dancers had to figure out how to negotiate in 6 feet what was designed to be done in 18 ft.  They did an amazing job.  Sometimes they made different adjustments in performance than were planned in rehearsal.  I never got upset because they consistently found clever ways to adjust to each other.  I was the only person aware and loved to see how they solved these last-minute, new, on-the-spot choreographic changes.

Ah… getting the rabbis to move the furniture for a Friday night service could be challenging. Sometimes, especially on return visits, it was easy but the first time could be difficult.  Unfortunately, I had lots of experience with that, starting with the very first performance of In Praise before there was even a formal dance company.  It took major negotiations to get most of the furniture moved and the Rabbi’s podium was never moved.  A few years later when a Rabbi announced that the podium was not moveable, Rick Jacobs (still in Rabbinic school)  and I simply showed the Rabbi how the podium could easily be moved over to the side and the wires adjusted so the mic worked from there.  The Rabbi wrote, in an evaluation to the Jewish Welfare Board that had arranged the booking, that the director, JoAnne Tucker, was quite professional but aggressive, in seeing that the company got what they needed.  I laughed when the evaluation was shared, knowing exactly what was being referred to.  The Rabbi and that congregation did become a regular booker of Avodah and we returned to participate in a Friday night service for nine years and never had a problem getting the furniture moved again.

Toward the end of the time I was touring, in around 2002, we had the most challenging Rabbi situation.  The Rabbi felt sure the best place for us to perform was in the back of the sanctuary, with the congregation looking over their shoulders to see us, because it was a level, large space.  Well that was totally ridiculous as it was clear no one would see any of the dancing.  I must have spent over an hour negotiating with him, and it was only when I quoted scripture to him and promised that we would not go up to the most sacred space where the Torahs were,  that he relented and I was able to stage the repertory on the other part of the bema so that the congregation could see us.  It amused me quite a bit that here it was thirty years after the earliest performance and I was still negotiating with Rabbis to be able to dance on the bema.  It’s no wonder that I began to feel it was easier to work in prisons!!

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Celebrating Light and Darkness

JoAnne Tucker / / Art, Costa Rica, Movement Workshops, Personal Life

I am writing this on December 21, the winter solstice, in Atenas, Costa Rica.  When I lived in the United States this was the darkest point in the year and also the point where each day began to get brighter until June 21.  Living in Costa Rica the shift is very small.   For example, there is just about a half-hour difference in sunrise and half-hour difference in sunset over the full year.  So the range is about an hour difference maximum for the year, compared with nearly a five-hour difference in Santa Fe, the last place I lived. I am not a morning person.  For as long as I can remember I have loved to stay up late, often getting a burst of creative thinking or loving to watch a movie and just relax, sometimes going to bed around 2 AM.  Now that doesn’t work so well here, as the mornings are so beautiful.  Murray loved the mornings and often got up shortly after sunrise while I continued to sleep.  Perhaps I will experiment a bit more, seeing if I can go to bed earlier and get up earlier to enjoy the morning –  maybe seeing if I can turn my internal clock around and be creative first thing in the day. 

One of my favorite activities that I did in dance workshops, for participants ranging from young children to adults, was to explore ideas related to light and darkness.  Often we used a line from Genesis to get things going: “And G-d separated the light from the darkness.” (Genesis 1:4) There are so many easy and wonderful ways to quickly motivate movement with this line of text, and activities for this line as well as other suggestions can be found in the book I co-authored with Rabbi Susan Freeman called Torah in Motion: Creating Dance Midrash which I am pleased to say is still available on Amazon.com. (Link to book.)

For today’s blog I want to focus on how I relate to light and darkness at the present time!!  First of all I find things to celebrate about light and darkness in nature and in my art.  I also find a negative side. When the light is too bright I find it very uncomfortable.  Darkness can be scary at night, especially with strange noises.  On the other hand darkness can be very comforting.  A dark night allows us to see the stars more vividly and there is a wonderful joy in that.  The few times I have been up to see the sun rise there is something very welcoming and satisfying in that.

When I first studied art at the Art Students League in NYC I was required to do charcoal studies of gradation from very dark to very light and then look carefully at the model and start with the darkest shadow first.  I still use this concept when painting.  I am beginning to explore watercolor and am learning to decide where the lightest point might be and to leave the paper paint-free with the white showing through.  This came in very handy when making some holiday greeting cards where the white became a very important part of the design as illustrated in the photo of this holiday card.  

Greeting card I created this December
A favorite painting I created in 2009, in which I particularly like how I used
light and darkness.  I am pleased to share that this painting sold in Santa Fe back in 2011 and continues to be one of my favorite paintings mainly because of the contrasts in it

I close wishing you a very happy holiday season and hoping this coming year will be a healthy and creative one for us all as we explore our new normal. For me, I might focus on enjoying more of the daylight here in Costa Rica, maybe welcoming the sunrise, finding opportunities to be creative in the morning and learning to go to bed earlier!!  And then again my body and mind may just not want to change, no matter how good it sounds.

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In the Month of Kislev

JoAnne Tucker / / New York Company

This time of the year holiday dance programs are the norm, with The Nutcracker dominating the scene, from local civic ballets to New York City Ballet’s outstanding production.  For a long time I wanted to choreograph a holiday piece.  The story of Chanukah I always found problematic so I knew I had to find something different than a retelling of the original story.  I was really excited when I found a delightful children’s book from the oral tradition by Nina Jaffe, an award-winning author, folklorist and storyteller on the faculty of the Graduate School at Bank Street College of Education. 

This review in Kirkus shares the charming story:

Mendel the peddler and his hard-working wife are so poor they can’t buy a single potato for Hanukkah but, miraculously, their daughters fall asleep contented each night after smelling the delicious aroma of latkes emanating from the home of Feivel the merchant. Feivel is outraged: they must pay for “taking the smell of my food right out from under my nose!” The wise rabbi decrees an appropriate fine: putting the village’s Hanukkah gelt in a bag, he shakes it—“We have paid for the smell…with the sound.” Feivel reforms; the two families reconcile.

https://www.kirkusreviews.com/book-reviews/nina-jaffe/in-the-month-of-kislev/K

I found this a perfect story to set to movement and eagerly contacted the author to ask permission.  She was thrilled and immediately put me in touch with her contact person at the book’s publisher who was easy to work with, and we quickly came to an agreement allowing Avodah to create a dance piece based on the children’s book.

Live music was perfect for this piece. A trio of three musicians was just right —  percussionist (Newman Taylor Baker),  clarinetist and vocalist.  In addition to the four company members (each of whom played numerous characters), I added several children.  One of them was the daughter of Lynn Elliot, a former Avodah dancer.  

While the piece didn’t have many seasons of performances, the ones it did have were very satisfying, and I am glad to share the following pictures. 

From l. to r. Carla Armstrong and Beth Millstein creating their own percussion dance by playing with pots (Photo by Tom Brazil)
From l. to r. Kezia and Beth as the two children enjoying the smell of the latkes beneath Feivel’s window (Photo by Tom Brazil)
Elizabeth (on the right) as the Mom taking care of her children (l. to r. Beth and Kezia) (Photo by Tom Brazil)

 
Kezia, as shaking the coins for Feivel (Elizabeth) to hear as the townschildren react and mimic.  
(Photo by Tom Brazil)

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Lovesongs and Lullabies

JoAnne Tucker / / New York Company, Sephardic

Over two months ago I had begun writing about the Sephardic program we developed and toured with Rabbi Ray Scheindlin. Then came the intensity of caretaking and losing my longtime  partner, and when I did write again it was turning my attention to the immediate.  Now, although still very much in a stage of not knowing what is normal or routine, I find myself glad to return to remembering and reflecting on the last of the three works that were part of the Sephardic program.  This piece was called Lovesongs and Lullabies.  

I have always felt so honored and blessed to have wonderful dancers to work with, and Lovesongs and Lullabies was a set of four songs in which each dancer could be featured in one song and then all the dancers could join together in the last one. The three featured dancers, Elizabeth McPherson, Beth Millstein Wish and Kezia Gleckman Hayman all continue to be special friends who I am so glad are still very much a part of my life.  

The motivation for this piece came from finding a wonderful set of Sephardic Love Songs and Lullabies.  Wikipedia has a helpful description of Sephardic music.  Here is the beginning paragraph and then an excerpt from a later one.  If you would like to read the whole section along with links to a lot of Sephardic artists, click here. 

Sephardic music has its roots in the musical traditions of the Jewish communities in medieval Spain and medieval Portugal. Since then, it has picked up influences from Morocco, Turkey, Greece, Bulgaria, and the other places that Spanish and Portuguese Jews settled after their expulsion from Spain in 1492 and from Portugal in 1496. Lyrics were preserved by communities formed by the Jews expelled from the Iberian Peninsula. These Sephardic communities share many of the same lyrics and poems, but the melodies vary considerably. 

The language of these folk songs was Judaeo-Spanish or Ladino, a mix of different Old Spanish dialects and Hebrew. Much like Yiddish in Eastern Europe, Judaeo- Spanish was spoken by Jews in Spain and Portugal in addition to the languages
of public life, which at the time were Arabic and Spanish.

I really loved the four songs I found. I wish I could remember the artist singing them but I can’t,  and while I found some of the songs (particularly Nani Nani) on YouTube they were by different artists.  They all had feelings of longing, sadness and softness to them.  The opening piece featured Elizabeth McPherson,  remembering and longing for an absent lover.  Kezia and Beth joined her for a lovely trio in parts of the piece.  The second piece is to the well known lullaby Nani Naniin which the Mom is singing her sadness to her child.  Beth Millstein is the Mom lulling her imaginary baby.  Another dancer is kneeling, holding a piece of fabric as if it were a baby. As the piece progresses, Beth takes the fabric from the  kneeling dancer and uses it sometimes as the baby and sometimes as a way to vent her frustration. By the end of this section her movement has become intense and the image of the baby is lost, replaced by the pain of wanting her husband to return.

Continuing in this theme of longing for a lover (or a home/land/life) no longer present, Kezia’s piece opens with a long diagonal cross of deep lunges with arms to her side.  Gradually arms are added to the traveling lunges as she faces in different directions as if reaching for the memory she aches for,  and she is joined by Beth and Elizabeth.  Contractions to the floor are added to this section which continues with variations of the longing lunges.

The transition into the last section has Kezia picking up the fabric which had been used in the second section and putting it as a shawl around Beth. Beth portrays a bride entering the mikvah. A mikvah is a bath used for the purpose of ritual immersion in Judaism, including sometimes by a bride before her wedding.  The other dancers join Beth, preparing her and blessing her as she enters the imaginary mikvah.  Walking into that imaginary water she slowly immerses herself and then stands up with a tenderness and strength.  

Luckily we have a video of one of the performances, which helped to refresh my mind.  I was surprised by my reaction as I watched, mainly that the dramatic longings the dancers portrayed came through so clearly even on my small laptop.  And once again I am reminded of how beautifully Kezia, Beth and Elizabeth danced both individually and together, contributing to the company growth.  What a joy it is to still be in touch with them nearly thirty years later. 

Luckily we have several very lovely pictures from the piece and I conclude today’s writing by sharing them. 

From l. to r. Beth Millstein and Kezia Gleckman Hayman  (Photo by Tom Brazil)
Beth Millstein as the bride in the final section with Elizabeth and Kezia. (Photo by Tom Brazil

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Transition: News, Art and Personal Life

JoAnne Tucker / / Costa Rica, Personal Life

There is no way of escaping the use of the word “transition” when you turn on the news.  It is extremely disturbing how there simply is not the normal process of one President passing the baton to the next. The citizens of the U.S. are left in a state of suspension, a most uncomfortable feeling. And yet in a way that is its own form of transition. An abrupt sudden change.  And with this kind of transition in the midst of a pandemic the potential is there for unnecessary deaths and much pain.

As a choreographer my goal was to make a piece in which the transitions were seamless.  One section flowed appropriately into the next.  2020 is a year of major transitions for me with each one challenging me in a new way.  They are not seamless like a good piece of choreography nor are they sudden and abrupt.  Hints of what comes next have helped prepare me.  In reflecting I have had three major personal transitions and experienced a fourth, worldwide transition.   I share some of my thoughts on each of these. 

The first major transition, which I have already written about, was when Murray and I decided to sell our house in Santa Fe and move to Costa Rica, buying a house in Atenas.  Learning how to live in a new country, run a house with a beautiful garden and learn Spanish are indeed challenges in themselves.  Things got more complicated when Murray’s health problems continued to surface after we had been here just two weeks.  And they continued, except for the month of April, until the end of October when he passed. Now I am transitioning to being on my own. In the midst of all of this, COVID-19 changed all of our lives and we all made a rapid transition to learning how to use FaceTime and Zoom as our major ways of connecting with each other.  

Murray and I were very fortunate that neither of us had a major illness that required much caretaking of the other during the 56 years we were together.  While Murray had been diagnosed with heart issues quite a few years ago he did not have a serious incident until just a few weeks before we were due to leave for Costa Rica.  The doctors OK’d our plans to continue our move to Costa Rica after Murray responded well to a pacemaker.  

From mid-February to mid-July I gradually transitioned into my role of caretaking.  It was challenging for both of us because Murray loved his independence and it was very hard for him to be in a wheelchair needing help to get around. We had help during the day with our full-time house manager/driver/cook who developed a wonderful relationship with Murray (which will be a separate blog). We also had a nurse’s help for a few hours several days a week.  But from 4 pm to 9 am and on the weekend we were on our own and often liked that quiet time together.  Since Murray needed help to and from the bathroom at night I learned how to function on interrupted night-time sleep.  A conscious decision was made by Murray that he did not want to go back to the hospital and I supported that 100%.  In Costa Rica, doctors still make house calls and lab technicians come to the house too so that made things so much easier. 

So many times we expressed our joy and relief to be in Costa Rica and not the U.S. at this time with COVID changing things so much in the U.S. and not so much here.  We were very careful.  Murray did not go out of the house at all after mid-July and I only went to the grocery, pharmacy or bank.  Most of all Murray was able to continue enjoying our beautiful garden here.  And when he was indoors all the rooms have large windows treating his eye to one beautiful section of the property after another.  One of our favorite views was (and still is mine) looking out to the butterfly/hummingbird garden we put in where there had been a non-functioning Jacuzzi.  In particular, the butterflies were very regular visitors.  A gradual transition was progressing as Murray’s concentration and strength weakened and I had more caretaking roles. Given the option of having the nurse here more, especially on the weekend or after 4, I chose not to take it for several reasons. There was a peacefulness of just us being here together and I could keep things more normal.  That’s not to say there weren’t frustrating moments for both of us or that I didn’t sometimes feel overwhelmed.  

View from the bedroom window of the broken Jacuzzi that we turned into a garden.

We really missed family and loved the group Zoom calls with our daughters and grandchildren.  Murray so cherished and looked forward to them.  Yes… it would have been super if family could have been here but, like all the world, we were and are adapting to new ways of living because of the pandemic.  And over and over I felt and feel deep gratitude that Murray could transition in our home in a setting of sheer beauty.   

 Via Zoom we were able to have a meaningful memorial for him.  It was organized by our daughters and granddaughter, with a slideshow that brought both smiles and tears to me.  Led by my next-door neighbor growing up, who shared playing in the Allderdice High School Orchestra with Murray, the memorial had a very personal touch.  Although alone in Costa Rica, I felt so much love and warmth during the service and from feedback afterwards.  I am very grateful that our daughters and granddaughter went forward with this at a time I was just plain exhausted.

Now it is a month later and I am making another transition.  It is filled with a combination of missing Murray and the grief that goes with that, along with lots of questions. Most of the questions are just that… open questions which will take time to explore and for me to figure out.  They center around how I want to structure my daily life, from when to eat, what to eat, and what my body rhythm is.  How do I want to structure my creative activities?  Except for writing this blog (and not as regularly as I wanted to; I love and want to get back to the once-a-week schedule), I haven’t painted much [or done other creative work] at all.  So much time is spent with paperwork after a person dies, and while a lot has been accomplished there is much more to do.  That too is a major part of the transition.  

Some things are becoming clearer.  Meditation is playing a bigger role each day and I am finding it very meaningful to start each day with a half hour of meditation followed by some journal writing.  Being part of a Buddhist book group has also become important.  When asked whether I plan to return to the U.S., the answer is I have no plans [to move back] at this time, but down the road when perhaps there is a closer-to-normal lifestyle I will look forward to some visits.  I will keep a legal address in the U.S., and maintaining the ability to vote and stay connected is important to me.  I am glad to be continuing to work on a film begun nearly two years ago, on men’s experience of domestic violence and what services are available to them.  There is still much to be done related to domestic violence, and our film company Healing Voices – Personal Stories is very important to me.

The haunting question with no answer is why I feel so connected to being here in Costa Rica and what my purpose is here.  I feel so fortunate to be living in such a beautiful setting that Murray and I fell in love with a year ago.  His presence is very much here, from the papaya tree he planted from seed in March, which is now producing papaya,  to our careful selection of just some minimal furnishings.  For right now I am settling in and the answers will emerge.

The Papaya tree that Murray planted from a seed in March.
A close up of the papayas forming on the tree.

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In the Garden: A New Piece Inspired by a Medieval Book of Poetry

JoAnne Tucker / / Art, Sephardic

Seven years after Sephardic Suite, I created two companion pieces for that work, to be part of a program commemorating the 500th anniversary of the Spanish Inquisition.  While the Inquisition began in 1481, it wasn’t until 1492 that the Jews were actually expelled from Spain.  Many Jews had converted to Christianity, but in the first twelve years, more than 13,000 Conversos (Secret Jews) were put on trial. Then all Jews were expelled from the country.   Five hundred years after the Expulsion, it looked like there would be a lot of programming marking that anniversary and I was inspired to develop more repertory.  I knew that I wanted to collaborate with a scholar and found the perfect person, Rabbi Raymond Scheindlin.  

Rabbi Scheindlin is Professor Emeritus of Medieval Hebrew Literature at Jewish Theological Seminary. He specializes in medieval Hebrew poetry with a special interest in Spain and other regions of Arabic culture. Please check out his website to learn more about this outstanding scholar and the numerous books he has published.  I was particularly fascinated with his collection of poetry in Wine, Women, and Death: Medieval Hebrew Poems on the Good Life.

I learned that Jewish poets of medieval Spain combined elements of the dominant Arabic-Islamic culture with Jewish religious and literary traditions to create a rich new Hebrew literature.  In the book Wine,Women and Death, Rabbi Sheindlin presents the original 12th century Hebrew poetry with his own melodic translations. The poetry that he translated is part of the golden age of Jewish culture during the Middle Ages where Muslims ruled and Jews were accepted into society.  Jewish religious, cultural and economic life flourished.

In the book, Scheindlin talked about gatherings that would happen late into the night in beautiful gardens where poetry would be recited.  I remembered my first trip to Granada with Murray in the late 1980’s and how I had fallen in love with the Alhambra Palace and garden in Granada.  I envisioned the new piece of choreography happening in this setting.  Many years later, long after choreographing the piece In the Garden I was able to spend two weeks wandering and sketching in the Alhambra garden while Murray attended a Spanish school in Granada.  It is a very special and beautiful place, both the garden and the surrounding architecture.

Two sketches that I did in the garden at Alhambra in Granada!

Inspired by Alhambra, I had great fun creating In the Garden in collaboration with the four dancers in the company at the time:  Kezia Gleckman Hayman, Beth Millstein, Elizabeth McPherson (and one other dancer whose name I choose to omit … that may be another blog).

Adding one more piece that I will describe in the next blog, we created a new program to tour with Rabbi Scheindlin.  We titled the program “Breezes from Andalusia: Dance, Spain and the Jews.”  

Among the tours I remember with Rabbi Scheindlin are two with unique memories, and Kezia recalls that Rabbi Scheindlin’s perspective contributed, with insight and good humor, to those experiences.  Our recollections:

In one community, Rabbi Scheindlin got into a discussion of Halacha (interpretation of Jewish law) with the rabbi, not concerning anything in the service, but in an attempt to come to our rescue as hungry artists at a post-performance dinner at a local restaurant.  When the menus arrived, we were told by our hosts that we could only order kosher food because the rabbi kept kosher.  The restaurant was not kosher, but it did have some fish and vegetarian dishes, which would be permitted. We pointed out to our hosts, respectfully, that two of the dancers were not Jewish and several of the rest of us did not keep kosher.  We also pointed out, gently, that we had all had a long day of travel and rehearsal and performance (likely with another demanding day to follow), and we thought some might be hoping for meat for dinner.  Despite Rabbi Scheindlin’s efforts to debate the Halacha of the moment on our behalf, we were still told that we all had to eat “kosher.”  In all the years of touring this was the only time JoAnne ever encountered this situation.  Another unique moment of the same evening was that because our hosts invited us to go to dinner, they also wanted to reduce our per diem.  We had often been entertained but no one had ever wanted to deduct our per diem before.  JoAnne prepared to object, but when she asked the amount and heard it was only $5 per person, she just “went with it.”

Rabbi Scheindlin’s touring perspective was interesting to us in other ways, as well.  His wife was a professional singer, and he expressed significant surprise at our performance-day routines.  We learned that the singer would be vigilant about resting her voice on a performance day.  Rabbi Scheindlin remarked repeatedly about the fact that we, in contrast, would rehearse for hours on the performance day, sometimes even traveling on that day as well.  In addition, each performance would be in a new, vastly different setting, requiring extensive spacing adjustments to the choreography.  It happened that one of the tours with Rabbi Scheindlin took us to a Florida congregation with one of the most challenging bemas in the company’s history, with ramps and various levels.  As the dancers went methodically through each piece under JoAnne’s direction, experimenting and constantly restaging movements and formations to accommodate the architecture, Rabbi Scheindlin, who was sitting next to JoAnne during the rehearsal, asked her whether the dancers would really remember all the changes they were making.  JoAnne assured him that the dancers would remember about 95% of the changes, and that she would have a lot of fun seeing how they would spontaneously solve the 5% they forgot. 

JoAnne says she will always stand in awe of the amazing way that Avodah dancers learned to adapt very quickly to the most unusual spaces.  Kezia says she will always be amazed by how JoAnne never scolded a dancer for making any mistake, and indeed, often shared a good laugh about how we “thought on our feet.”

From l. to r. Beth Millstein and Elizabeth McPherson in In the Garden
Kezia Gleckman Hayman in In the Garden (“The cooing of the dove . . .”)

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Sephardic Suite: A Controversial Piece

JoAnne Tucker / / dance liturgy, New York Company

It was always exciting when I received an invitation to choreograph something new for an event.  That’s what happened in 1985 when my home congregation, Temple Emanuel in Westfield, NJ, asked me to create something for a Sephardic Evening they were planning.  It would include a dinner and then a Friday evening Shabbat service.  We were also busy developing new repertory for a fall season in New York at Hebrew Union College, so I knew that not only would the new piece receive a performance in October at Temple Emanuel, but it would be part of the November concerts.  While the company at that time consisted of one man and four women I decided this piece would be just for the four women.  Little did I know, as I first started working on the piece, that it would prove to be controversial.

Whenever I do a new piece, the first step is to learn as much as I can about the subject. I decided to explore how a Sephardic liturgical service might be unique. I learned that the oldest Jewish Congregation in the United States was Congregation Shearith Israel. It was established in 1654 in New Amsterdam by Jews who arrived from Dutch Brazil.  It was often referred to as The Spanish and Portuguese Synagogue.  I visited the Synagogue on the West Side of New York and was reminded that the architecture and placement of the speaker’s table was different than the synagogues I was used to where the speaker’s podium was in the front, on the bema near the Ark and Torah scrolls.  In Sephardic tradition the raised platform (the bema) is freestanding and in the middle of the sanctuary with seating for the men on both sides almost like theater in the round. As Sephardic congregations are Orthodox (at least as far as I know), the women usually sit upstairs in a women’s gallery or if it is a small synagogue, in a dedicated zone on the same level.

In addition to visiting Congregation Shearith Israel I was able to read some of the minutes related to the synagogue and was surprised by one entry written early in the synagogue’s life.  It seems that several women when they heard the noon church bells ring during the Saturday morning service would cross themselves as if they were in church. Aware of the history of the Jewish community in Spain and later in Portugal during the Inquisition I realized that these were deeply held habits to protect themselves from the Inquisition.  For 300 years from around 1480 to the early 1800’s Jews who lived in Spain, Portugal or their American colonies had to practice their Judaism in secret.  If they were found out they could find themselves in prison, be tortured or even receive a death sentence.  Many Jews left Spain and Portugal. A lot of those who stayed became New Christians, often referred to as Marranos or Conversos.  They had to be very clever in how they maintained their Jewish tradition.

As I was researching history and synagogue architecture I was also listening to lots of Sephardic music. I came across a cassette of music I liked and decided on three pieces from the cassette for the new work.  One piece was perfect for choreography that would be based on ritual movement typically done in the service, including bending, bowing, rising slightly on one’s toes and taking steps forward and back.  The four dancers would be standing two on one side and two on the other as if there were a speaker’s podium between them. At times they would exchange places and move around in a square-like pattern.  The second section of the Suite used Torah gestures of holding the scroll, unrolling and lifting it high so all may see the writing inside, and carrying it through the sanctuary.  The piece is very upbeat, filled with leaps of celebration and movements like those that might be done on the holiday of Simchat Torah, when Jews will often dance holding the Torah scrolls.  (The holiday marks finishing the last portion and beginning the first portion of the year-long cycle of weekly Torah readings.)  The last section of the piece would be to remember Marranos or Conversos (Secret Jews) by juxtaposing the candle lighting gesture with the crossing gesture.  The crossing gesture would be done facing forward while the candle lighting gesture of circling the flames with one’s hands and covering the eyes would be done mainly facing backward.

For the first performance, the piece was done on the bema and I am not sure whether it was done in the sermon spot of the service or just before the service started, following dinner.  What I do remember clearly was how upset Rabbi Charles Kroloff was about the crossing gesture being done on the bema. Either later that evening or the next day he called me into his office and shared that he just wasn’t happy about it.  We had a long talk and he agreed that the piece was appropriate because it was part of the history of Jewish life, but he just felt it wasn’t appropriate for the bema.  It was a valuable discussion and I am grateful that he was so honest about his reaction for it helped me to know how to prepare audiences when we presented the piece mostly in concerts.  Sephardic Suite became a regular part of our repertory but it wasn’t until 1992, the 500th anniversary of the Spanish Inquisition, that more Sephardic pieces would be created and we would collaborate with a Sephardic scholar. 

From l to r: Jean Ference and Kathy Kellerman in the 2nd Section of 
Sephardic Suite celebrating the Torah.

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Three Emails Related to Central Synagogue

JoAnne Tucker / / dance liturgy

Over this High Holiday season I received three emails from three friends living in three different places (Boston, Santa Fe, Poughkeepsie) referring me, sometimes with a link, to what was happening at Central Synagogue in New York City. The first one was a link to a beautiful tribute by Rabbi Angela Buchdahl remembering Ruth Bader Ginsburg.  I loved watching it for several reasons.  First of all I remember Angela when she was Associate Rabbi and Cantor at Westchester Reform Temple in Scarsdale, having been ordained as a cantor in 1999 and as a rabbi in 2001. She led services for students in the religious school and I remember one of the last things I did at Westchester Reform Temple was participate with the Avodah Dance Ensemble in a service she was leading. Now she is the Senior Rabbi at Central Synagogue, one of only a few women serving as leaders of a major United States synagogue. Even though she has been the Senior Rabbi since 2014, this was the first time that I saw her in action, and I loved the meaningful and beautiful way she honored RBG. Here’s a link to watch it. 

Rabbi Angela Buchdahl leading a tribute to Ruth Bader Ginsberg on
Rosh Hashanah at Central Synagogue (screenshot).

The second email sent me links to where I could watch the High Holiday services. This was from a friend now living in Boston who had once been a member of Central and was so glad that she could stream the services.  If you are a regular reader of this blog you know from the recent blog on 9/11 that I have moved away from attending services and find my spiritual life in meditating and exploring Buddhism.  I did appreciate my friend sending me the links, and in doing research for this blog I learned that back in 2013 Central Synagogue was streaming their services with over 20,000 viewers from all around the world.  This holiday season 49K watched the Kol Nidre service on YouTube!

The third email was from Kezia, editor of this blog.  She, too, remembers Angela from Avodah experiences, and through Central’s taped services, Kezia has been appreciating Angela’s extraordinarily insightful, beautiful and moving leadership for some time.  She had just streamed the Yizkor service, which included dance! Well that got my attention and so I decided to check it out.  I was glad I did.  Twenty minutes of dance was woven into the opening “legacy” part of the afternoon service which retells, as described by Rabbi Ari Lorge, the “Jewish story from creation to redemption.”  Included in this twenty minutes was reference to the traditional Avodah service of ancient times when the High Priest entered the Holy of Holies to present an offering.  That service has particular meaning for me as that was the name I chose for the dance company I directed for years.

The twenty-five minutes with narrative and song from Central Synagogue’s clerical and musical staff was performed by Jonah Bokaer.  Rabbi Lorge mentioned in his introduction that Central was taking advantage of the open space that they had created for the virtual services.  And he noted that dance has been a part of Jewish tradition since King David danced before the Ark. Of course there are lots of other references that could have been used.  The mood was set and a clearly strong technical dancer weaved through the space, narrative and song. It was a very sincere performance and I particularly liked the moments when he moved boldly through space.  Unfortunately Jonah was dressed in black and we often lost a lot of the movement as he blended into the shadows and poor lighting in various areas.  

Jonah’s background is quite interesting as he combined being a member of the Merce Cunningham Company from 2000 to 2007 with a degree in Visual and Media Studies at the New School.  He has won numerous awards and grants and is a frequent choreographer for Robert Wilson.  I watched a few videos of Jonah on YouTube and was struck by how much more interesting the movement was than what I saw in the service at Central Synagogue. I hope he will continue to explore using his talent as part of services and will bring his strongest creative talent to that setting.  Here’s a link that is currently on line to watch three minutes of Jonah’s dancing at Central. 

Always fun to open emails and get some surprises, as I did in the past few days.

Jonah Bokaer in the Yizkor Service at Central Synagogue (screenshot).

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The 19th Anniversary of 9/11

JoAnne Tucker / / Personal Life

This year, as September 11th approached, I found myself reflecting on the spiritual changes that were triggered by that day and how I relate to those changes now.  Are they still valid for me now? Was it a detour? Have my beliefs strengthened or changed?  This is not a normal year for me and I hunch it is not normal for anyone else.  The pandemic has impacted all of our lives in some way.  Murray’s declining health is also another factor and I am finding my daily life as a caretaker something very new and challenging.  And of course we moved to Costa Rica the end of January this year. So this is a good time to assess if I am on the right track with a philosophy-spiritual path that can be helpful.

The 70’s saw me exploring Judaism through dance, looking to find how I might relate to prayers that up to that point had held little meaning for me.  I found a sense of satisfaction by embodying the intent (or at least my personal intent) of the prayer through movement, at first in my own body and then later as a choreographer with the members of the company expressing my and their interpretation.  The 80’s focused a lot on exploring the Torah through what we called dance midrash.  A shift began toward the end of the 80’s and continued through the 90’s where the emphasis was in building bridges between communities, particularly the Black and Jewish community. Throughout all three decades I was looking for the feminist voice of the “divine.”  And I was beginning to have my doubts about whether I could continue to relate to doing midrash to find the feminine voice in Judaism.  So when 9/11 happened I was already questioning things a lot.

9/11 was itself especially traumatic because at that time we lived in Jersey City about three blocks from the river, directly across from the World Trade Center.  In fact we usually took the PATH train into the WTC and then either transferred to a subway or walked.  So WTC was very much part of our neighborhood.  On 9/11 I was home when the first plane hit.  Murray had gone into work early and was already through the WTC and at his job site.  Our daughter Rachel called me in a panic, worried about her father, as she knew the route he usually took.  I asked why and she told me to turn on the TV and briefly told me what happened. I told her Murray had left early but as soon as I heard from him I would let her know. Her voice was filled with panic, as she had been on one of the top floors when the WTC had been bombed back in 1993.  She remembered the long walk down to the ground.  Murray called in saying he was fine and I asked him to call Rachel and assure her he was OK, which he did.

Knowing Murray was OK, I walked down to the river and joined our next-door neighbor.  The second building was still standing and sadly we could see specks falling from the top floors.  They were actually people jumping.  And then we saw the building collapse.  Over the next days, smoke and a sharp strange smell were in the air.  People were reaching out to each other in a way that they had not before.  When we would see someone we knew even casually in our neighborhood, we would hug each other, glad to see we were OK. Everyone had their story to share about the day.

The Jewish High Holidays were around the corner and I will always remember the Rosh Hashanah Eve service where Rabbi Larry Raphael (of blessed memory) asked us to turn to someone we didn’t know and share where we had been on 9/11.  The buzz in the room was tremendous.  We wanted to talk to each other about our experiences.  Then he guided us back to the service and it became flat for me.  The prayers were not resonating.

Within a few weeks of 9/11 Thich Nhat Hahn came to town and a friend took me to a service he was leading at Riverside Church.  It was packed and there was something about the event that was nurturing and I began meditating more regularly.  I had been meditating before but hadn’t really gotten into doing any Buddhist reading nor did I know any of the philosophy.  My exposure had been through Jewish adaptations. Within the next month Joseph Goldstein, Sharon Salzberg and Sylvia Boorstein all led events  in Manhattan.  I attended all three and my meditation practice deepened.  

When we moved to Steamboat Springs there was a sangha there and on rare occasion I went. My next door neighbor was involved and we would often have meaningful discussions.  In 2009 when we moved to Santa Fe I didn’t do much at all until 2011 when my mother was very ill and I wanted to find something meaningful.  Jon Kabat-Zinn was speaking at the Upaya Zen Center and so I went to their Wednesday night Dharma talk and then signed up for a 4-day workshop Zen Brain: Consciousness and the Fundamental Nature of Mind. It was way over my head but I got a lot out of it.  Meditation and Upaya became more a part of my life.  I attended more workshops and for a while was attending the Wednesday night programs fairly regularly.  When we moved to the south side of town and Upaya was a further trip I rarely went, but I did continue a meditation practice sometimes alone and sometimes with Murray.

So where am I at with my practice.  The first several months here I did not meditate but lately I am returning to a more disciplined practice, finding it extremely helpful.  It is clear this is the spiritual path for me.  As I read more and participate in a Buddhist book group, I am finding so much that can help guide me at this time. I will always be proud of my Jewish heritage and love the years I spent studying and interpreting text and prayers through dance.  The very basic premise of Buddhism, of discovering how suffering can be transformed into peace, is appropriate for me at this time.  InThe Heart of the Buddha, Thich Nhat Hahn encourages us to “embrace your suffering and let it reveal to you the way to peace.”

Picture of Murray taken in Jersey City close to where we lived.  
We think this picture was taken in the early 90’s

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A Challenging Film Project

JoAnne Tucker / / Dance in Film, Healing Voices - Personal Stories

What a joy it is to now have Healing Voices-Personal Stories’s new film Out of the Shadow: Shining Light on Domestic Violence posted on Vimeo and our website.  This project and resulting film were more complicated than our earlier films. The idea for the film was brought to us by HV-PS’s board member Leona Stucky-Abbott and grew into a Day of Action Against Domestic Violence held on October 5, 2019.  Check out this website to see where events were held.  In this blog I write about the role that movement and dance played in the Day and in the film.   

One of the things we recommended for the Day of Action was a Die-In to remember and acknowledge the large number of women who have lost their lives to an intimate partner. As we began to share our idea with people, it became clear we needed to establish some basic guidelines for what we meant as a Die-In.  It was not to be a protest but rather a time to remember those women who have lost their lives!!  We gave a basic movement outline…. to have those women who were representing the victims enter first and lie down on the ground.  Other women (who did not want to lie down) and men then made a protective circle around them.  Once everyone was in place, all observed a minute of silence with no movement.  After the minute, with the cue of a chime, one woman began to get up, then help another person up, with the two acknowledging each other before moving on to help another woman up.  Once everyone was up, they affirmed, with dance and gestures, the celebration of life and the message that the violence has to stop.  

We did a demonstration film of our model and provided it to groups so they could get an idea of what to do.  We of course also suggested that they come up with their own ideas too.  You can watch the demonstration film here.  It was exciting to get the videos from the different groups and see what they came up with for October 5th.

We also suggested that each event plan something special to call attention to domestic violence.  I was thrilled that we ended up with three specific dances that play an important role in the film.  Two of the dance pieces were a part of the New York Day of Action held at St. Mark’s Church.  Regina Ress, who organized the NYC event, describes them beautifully in the film and I strongly urge you to watch it.  Briefly, one of the dances was performed and choreographed by Sonali Skandan, who has an East Indian dance company. It is about a courtesan who is trapped and longs to be free. The second dance, Ni Una Carmen Mas (“Not One More Carmen”), was performed by Ivanka Figueroa and choreographed by Gabriela Estrada who enthusiastically signed up to be a part of our Day of Action when we first announced it. 

Screenshot of Sonali Skandan taken from Out of the Shadow
Screenshot of Ni Una Carmen Mas, performed by Ivanka Figueroa 
and choreographed by Gabriela Estrada from Out of the Shadow

Trapped is the third dance piece featured in our film and its history is very interesting.  It is performed by Tiana Lovett with choreography by Lynne Wimmer.  Lynne Wimmer is the co-director and editor of Out of the Shadow and a longtime friend.  We have collaborated on lots of different projects. I suggested she read Leona Stucky-Abbott’s book The Fog of Faith.  Leona is a board member of Healing Voices – Personal Stories, which produced the film.  Leona also brought to us the idea of making a film related to how many women have died from domestic violence –  nearly double the number of men who died in combat from 2001 – 2012. (6,500 U.S. troops were killed in Iraq and Afghanistan while 11,700 women were murdered by intimate partners.)

Screenshot  of Trapped performed by Tiana Lovett with choreography by Lynne Wimmer

In a recent email, Lynne Wimmer wrote:

Leona, your brave, blunt autobiography of your terrifying experiences was what directed me to paw through a collection of old (and I mean old – reel to reel 1 inch tapes) videotapes and discover that the first dance I’d ever choreographed had some purpose besides history. I was fortunate to have the opportunity to work with such a talented, willing creature as Tiana. So, working on this project also sent me back into the dance studio as a choreographer for the first time in six years. I don’t know if I’ll ever venture there again, but it was a nice, short return visit to my former life.

Last year I visited Lynne and loved seeing her work with Tiana and how this very first piece she choreographed could have a wonderful place in the Day of Action or on its own.  As it turned out, Lynne beautifully staged a Die-In in a church as part of a Day of Action event organized by the Gun Violence Prevention Center of Salt Lake City, and later filmed Trapped. 

At some point as Lynne was editing she experimented with seeing how the Grimms’ tale “Old Rink Rank,” which Regina had told in NYC and which we had included (in a shortened version) in the interview we taped at Northern New Mexico College with filmmaker David Lindblom’s students, would work with her dance.  When she shared it with me, I thought, “Wow did that work!” and so it became part of the film.  Regina and Lynne are now thinking of developing this into a film of its own, and I hope they will do that.   It is always very special and fun to see things come together that were not necessarily planned.

To conclude, I honor Lynne Wimmer and the amazing job she did to take a series of photos and video clips from many different groups and edit it into this film.  Her artistic sensitivity, film editing skills, understanding of dance and the choreographic process took this film to a higher level than we imagined!!  THANK YOU, LYNNE.  

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