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.
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.
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 GardenKezia Gleckman Hayman in In the Garden (“The cooing of the dove . . .”)
When we planned on moving to Costa Rica, we had no idea of all the challenges we would face within the first 6 months of living here. I’m not talking about the adjustments to a new country, which we would have had moving at any time, or the surprise fire and earthquake. What I mean is COVID 19 and the heart failure that Murray is going through. Those are two things that are dominating day-to-day life and could not have been predicted back in November when we made the decision to move. A year ago this time, Murray and I were in the Tetons at Jenny Lake Lodge, and while we couldn’t do long hikes, Murray could do short hikes of a mile or so. Sometimes it is a challenge now for Murray just to walk from room to room and or spend 10 minutes walking in the garden.
View in our garden behind a tree that Murray walks to slowly.
And then there is COVID which has made it impossible for family and friends to visit. The borders are closed and it is unlikely that people from the U.S. will be allowed in anytime soon. We have no plans to return to the United States, as we feel safer here. So there is a real appreciation that we are able to communicate via FaceTime and Zoom, because no one knows when we will be able to do so “in person.”
Nearly every day here in Costa Rica, I find myself experiencing the four basic emotions that I sometimes explored when I led movement workshops. Sometimes one dominates more than another but generally in the course of any day I experience all four. They are: happy, sad, angry, scared. Dance and sometimes art have been wonderful vehicles for me to work through my feelings and in the process find appropriate outlets for my emotions. As I write this I am challenging myself to see what I can do here particularly using art as my means.
A few hours after writing these first two paragraphs a strong emotion began to surface so I got my watercolor pencils out and began expressing my feeling on paper. Soon the emotion began to pass and instead a deep fascination with the design elements dominated. Over the next day or so I totally enjoyed creating a small abstract design that had started with strong emotional feeling.
Watercolor exploring an emotion, June 20, 2020. Created by first using watercolor pencils and then adding water and other watercolors.
For years when I led movement workshops, exploring emotions through dance was often an important part of the program. The activities were carefully structured so that everyone in the group was safe both from getting caught up in the emotion and from interacting with another person in an unsafe way.
Confining space is a good tool to use. Ask each person to draw an imaginary circle around themself that gives them about three feet to move. For the duration of the exercise they are to stay inside their personal circle. Give them the following instructions, one at a time, giving them several minutes to improvise each one: 1) They are frustrated and angry at being confined to the space; 2) They have retreated to this space because they are afraid during a thunder and lightning storm; 3) They are very sad and this small space is safe play to express their sadness; and 4) It is during COVID 19 time and they have just received great news on their cell phone while outside with a friend practicing social distancing.
With an adult or teenage group, start by making a large circle. One person goes into the center of the circle and makes a shape (with their body) that expresses one of the four emotions. They hold that pose, while another person goes into the circle making a complimentary shape (relating to but without touching the first person) that also illustrates that same emotion. The first person leaves and the next person comes in making a shape of the same emotion, and so it continues with one person entering and another person leaving. This activity can be expanded by having the participants still enter the circle one at a time, but allowing a few participants to remain in place in the center at once, thus creating a larger “sculpture” of the given emotion. (If doing this, make sure participants take positions that can be held comfortably for a few moments.)
And of course exploring emotions can be taken to a whole different level as it was in the composition class that I took from Pearl Lang at Connecticut College Summer Program in 1960, where for the six weeks I created an anger study and a laughter study. Working from gestures, much as I had done in my first composition class with Helen Tamiris, the gestures were expanded into phrases and the phrases built into sections with Pearl coaching and insisting everything be believable. I remember being very excited to perform one of the studies in a Saturday workshop.
Recently we included exploring emotions as part of a film we made with women from a domestic violence program in Santa Fe. The film includes both leaders with a dance background and women who are exploring movement improvisation for the first time. Here’s a link to view it.
I feel so fortunate to have had practice in finding ways to express my emotions and not become overwhelmed by them. Indeed we are in very challenging times and we need to use all the resources we can!
When we were living in Tallahassee back in the 1980’s with young children, Maggie helped to take care of Julie and Rachel after school while I was busy at The Creative Dance Center. Later she would dance in The Avodah Dance Ensemble. We lost touch with each other for a number of years. Then a few years ago she moved to Santa Fe and we reconnected. She and her husband Bill were helping us as we got ready to leave for Costa Rica. Maggie had bought some of my art and was enthusiastic about both my art and Murray’s photography. Over the years Murray and I had created quite a lot, and after making it available for sale in Santa Fe, we weren’t sure what to do with what was left . In some discussions with Maggie and Bill the idea emerged that she and Bill would take the remaining collection with the instructions “to use it to benefit The Peaceful Project,” a non-profit organization whose mission is meaningful to us.
The Peaceful Project’s mission is “to inspire individuals to foster peaceful relationships based on personal responsibility, collaboration, and leadership.” Here’s a link to their website. (https://www.thepeacefulproject.org)
The original plans were to do a special fundraiser where our art would be available for sale. Instead, it is being done virtually! Here what Maggie has sent out:
You may have received an email asking you to save a date in April for a special fundraiser for The Peaceful Project, The Art of Peace. Instead – with our current world of social distancing – we are going to get the ball rolling right now and do a part of it virtually! This will open up the event to an even wider audience than those who could attend a live event in Santa Fe. Instead of distancing, connect with art!
This all began when friends JoAnne and Murray Tucker generously
gifted me with a delightful collection of JoAnne’s art and Murray’s
photography. Their instructions were “to use it to benefit The
Peaceful Project”. So we are!
We have now been in Costa Rica for just over six weeks. The first four were particularly challenging. We furnished our house with the basics, deciding not to get fancy or spend lots of money. We learned how to pay our bills, estimating colonies to dollars so we could understand the cost of things in a way we were used to. We are still figuring out how to manage our house and the swimming pool with its solar heating and infinity design which still remains a puzzle to us. During these first four weeks I often woke up with, and experienced at other times, a huge knot in my stomach. The last few weeks I have begun to get back to painting and that has made a major difference. Particularly the past week I have made it a point to have at least two hours a day devoted to my quiet creative time, mainly painting but sometimes writing. The knot in my stomach is rarely there now. Yes, regular meditation helps some too. For me something additional happens when I am using my creative voice. Fears, concerns, planning all drop away and I become one with my painting, just as I did with dance.
I am aware that I am experimenting right now, not sure what style, medium, or subject matter will dominate. The views from each room in our house are breathtaking. When I think about what I want to paint I have tons of choices. Where to begin… what to key in on… how to simplify and yet capture the spirit of what I am seeing — these are some of the thoughts that are going through my mind. Of course, at this point all that is important is that I show up and just see what happens — no criticism, just being present and finding the creative voice.
For years I have taught and encouraged teachers to find their creative voice, and guided them on how to help children keep their creative energies, which seem to drop off around 4th grade. When I lead workshops for teachers I particularly focused on the research of E. Paul Torrance and the wonderful way he defined elements that make up the creative process. He also developed creativity tests. I am thinking that it will be useful to remember some of Torrance’s ideas as I explore my creative voice in this new chapter in my life.
When I first became familiar with Torrance, he drew on J.P. Guilford’s thinking and defined creativity as having 4 components – fluency, flexibility, originality and elaboration:
Fluency. The total number of interpretable, meaningful, and relevant ideas generated in response to the stimulus. 2. Flexibility. The number of different categories or shifts in responses. 3. Originality. The number of unusual yet relevant ideas and the statistical rarity of the responses. 4. Elaboration. The amount of detail used to extend a response. (From Ellis Paul Torrance – The Father of Creativity by Sergey Markov, June 2017) https://geniusrevive.com/en/ellis-paul-torrance-father-of-modern-creativity/
Sergey Markov’s article is excellent and I learned lots of new things about Torrance. I recommend reading it if you have a strong interest in creativity theory and testing. For the purposes of this blog I just want to say I will be exploring and guiding some of my painting by keeping these ways of thinking in mind. Of course… it will be important for me to not get caught up in an intellectual way but rather to simply explore and not judge.
I’ve completed one 9” x 12” oil focusing on one of the plants in a realistic way.
First Painting
Now I’m working on another painting and am approaching it by doing a larger scene but with less detail and looking at it as large blocks of colors. It’s also a 9” x 12” board.
My second painting. Is it complete?
In an earlier blog I wrote about the encouragement I got from my Mom in being creative, and the model she provided by completing a lovely watercolor of her dog just three weeks before she died at the age of 90. Certainly Genevieve Jones’s creative dance classes were a wonderful guide, as was my work in creative dramatics with both Dr. Barbara McIntyre and Dr. Joe Karioth.
For now the creative time is helping me settle in Costa Rica and truly see and appreciate the beautiful landscape we are surrounded by. Indeed, the beauty of our location was one of the guiding forces that brought us here and it could be so easy to get caught up in the overwhelming process of adjusting to a new country and forget that. The two hours of my own quiet time, sometimes in writing and mostly in painting (as non-verbal creativity is more target to me), is so important right now.
End Note (written Thursday night, March 12) This blog was written last weekend. Since then, our community of Atenas has been experiencing major fires due to the heat and high winds. On Tuesday, Murray and I had to leave the house in the late afternoon because the smoke was so intense and large flames were very visible and close to our house. Luckily so far we have been spared any damage. We returned last evening and most of today was spent cleaning. Creative endeavors sometimes have to be put on hold and I am reminded of Rollo May’s hierarchy of needs. Life is certainly a balancing act. After posting this blog this morning on Sunday, March 15th I am going to spend several hours painting. It is not just an option… it is a necessity to keep my balance!!!
Just a few weeks ago we opened A Day of Action Against Domestic Violence in Santa Fe, with a Native American acknowledgement and blessing. It was a ritual to acknowledge that we, here in Santa Fe, are living on Tewa Ground. Tewa refers to the language spoken by the six pueblos located adjacent to the Rio Grande River in Central and North Central New Mexico. All attending were invited outdoors, and Teresa Candelario, a member of the Yaqui Tribe from California, blew the conch in all six directions as we gathered into a circle. She acknowledged each direction, traditionally done by facing east first, then south, continuing west, north, above and below. It was a powerful way to start our day, and that evening when I got home I found myself reflecting on the ceremony and remembering a project with The Avodah Dance Ensemble that goes back some twenty-three years.
In the fall of 1996 I explored with two outstanding Native American actresses/dancers/directors a project exploring Native American rituals, particularly related to direction and the shaking of the lulav and etrog as part of Sukkot. The two women, Muriel Miguel and Murielle Borst-Tarrant are mother and daughter and members of the Kuna and Rappannock nations. Muriel Miguel is the founder and Artistic Director of Spiderwoman Theatre, the longest running Native American women’s theater company in North America. She also has a strong modern dance background having studied with Alvin Nickolai, Erick Hawkins and Jean Erdman. Her daughter Murielle Borst-Tarrant is a playwright, performer and director.
Working with the two women and Avodah company members Elizabeth McPherson and Beth Millstein we began exploring the use of directions in Native American tradition and in the Jewish holiday of Sukkot. While we did several informal performances and workshops it remained a “work in progress” and was never fully realized as a dance/theatre piece.
What stands out most in my mind from the experience was how we began each rehearsal. Muriel Miguel shared with us that they always began rehearsals or performances by calling their ancestors into the space with them. It was a way of protecting the working space. They welcomed us to face each of the four directions and invite whoever came to mind to protect and join us on this creative journey. I found this most interesting and actually very potent. I was a bit surprised who came to mind. Sometimes I welcomed a grandparent, a childhood rabbi that had died, an outstanding creative artist from our dance tradition or a biblical character into the rehearsal room with me. We did this each time we had rehearsal and sometimes it was the same ancestors who joined me and sometimes it was someone new and different. At the end of the rehearsal it was important to thank them for helping us, and let them go.
Several years later I was leading a workshop at Hebrew Union College and invited the participants to face each direction and welcome their ancestors into the session. I did the exercise too and when I finished and came back to my place in the circle I had the most surprising feeling that the room was suddenly very crowded with lots of people I had never met. The next day I happened to run into one of the rabbis on the HUC faculty who commented that he had looked in the chapel where we were dancing the previous day and the room felt so full and crowded. Humm… I thought about the exercise we had done the day before but felt it was wise just to agree with him without saying anything else!!!
At another workshop when we were dancing Exodus 15:20 “and all the women went out after [Miriam] in dance with timbrels,” I asked the participants to become the women going out after Miriam, but to replace Miriam in their imaginations with whomever they were following in their own lives. This proved to be insightful and another variation of acknowledging our ancestors as we had done with Muriel and Murielle!
It is interesting to note that on each night of Sukkot it is a custom to invite “invisible guests” into the Sukkah along with “visible ones.” Usually this meant biblical characters.
Another Sukkot custom that seems to have a parallel with Native American tradition is to include a prayer for rain as part of the last day ritual of carrying the lulav and etrog.
Part of the beauty of Sukkot in many places is to be out among the changing leaves. So I have selected as the visual for this blog a fall leaf pastel painting that I did.
Shortly after the creation of Sisters, Rabbi Norman Cohen suggested Avodah create another dance midrash piece based on the Akedah portion of Genesis (22: 1–19) where God commands Abraham to offer his son Isaac as a sacrifice. The Joseph Gallery of Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion was planning an exhibit of paintings by Frederick Terna called “Articulation of Hope: The Binding of Isaac.” Norman thought an Avodah concert featuring a new piece based on Terna’s paintings would be excellent to include in the series of programs related to the Exhibition. I had mixed feelings about focusing on these lines of text as they were very difficult for me to relate to. I agreed and we set the date for December 13th, the last of the programs so I could wait until the paintings arrived at the college and I could see Terna’s visual interpretation.
About a week before the opening, Norman called to let me know that the paintings had arrived and suggested I walk through the gallery with him to look at them. This would also give me an opportunity to discuss the text with him and gain some more insight into these critical lines that play such a strong role in Jewish life… not only read when that portion of the Torah is read but also read on the High Holiday of Rosh Hashanah (Jewish New Year).
As I walked through the gallery, studying each painting carefully I was struck by the strong role of the angels and the ram that is finally sacrificed instead of Isaac. A painting entitled An Offering Set Aside shows the ram as an egg in a womb of perhaps an angel. Once I saw that painting I thought I might have a place to begin.
In my file I found a brochure that HUC-JIR created for the exhibit that includes a biography of Terna and a scholarly essay written by Norman on Frederick Terna and the exhibition. Norman notes:
Drawn to the piercing questions of the Akedah, Frederick Terna has wrestled with this text for many years. As a Holocaust survivor he has found in this story one vehicle to deal with his own life experiences and to express deep-seated emotions in a most creative manner.
Norman also refers to the one painting that had the most poignancy for me in beginning the creative work on the piece.
An Offering Set Aside reminds us that from the very outset of creation, the ram, the salvational vehicle and through its horns, the symbol of the messianic, is waiting. Programmed into human existence from its inception is the potential for redemption.
When I left Norman that day after seeing the paintings, I had a hunch where the new piece on the Akedah would begin. I also was impressed with Terna’s paintings which while sometimes showing the pain and suffering of the text also had a softness and nurturing quality to them using feminine colors. Perhaps that could calm my uncomfortable feeling of creating a piece on text that I found extremely puzzling and which did not have a woman’s voice in it at all. It was a story of a father and son with Sarah, the mother, not even mentioned.
In reflecting back on developing this new piece on just nineteen lines of text from Genesis I realized it brought together elements that both challenged and inspired me. It required that I do research and make sure I was aware of traditional midrashim as well as contemporary thought. It involved collaboration with Rabbi Norman Cohen, an outstanding scholar; Mark Childs, a cantor I had just worked with in creating “Let My People Go,” and a wonderful group of dancers. And then there were the paintings of Frederick Terna to inspire and point me in new directions.
When I looked at traditional midrashim on the nineteen lines it was fascinating to me to see that the phrase “after these things,” which is part of the opening line of text, had lots of midrashim. Hum… we could work with this in dance… indeed what were “these things” that might have caused God to put Abraham to such a test as to sacrifice his son?
I had also recently read a book called The Thirteen Petalled Rose: A Discourse on the Essence of Jewish Existence and Beliefby Adin Steinsaltz. In the book he talks about angels in Jewish text, suggesting that each is a manifestation of a single emotional response or essence. Angels were an important part of Frederick Terna’s paintings and so Steinsaltz’s words became particularly meaningful for me as I prepared to meet with the dancers and begin work on the new piece.
It would be an interesting journey working with the four dancers to create the piece, and both Norman Cohen and Mark Childs had agreed to collaborate and even perform in the first performance. Luckily I have a video of the final rehearsal for the performance, which I will refer to in the next blog on this piece. I also have two other videos of the piece: one that is done five years later and a third that was done eight or nine years later. As I watched all three videos one evening I was struck by how a piece evolves over time — from when Norman Cohen and Mark Childs were part of the piece, actually moving on stage with the dancers; to a performance with a cantor alone singing and narrating the story; to the dancers handling singing, chanting text and narrating as they move. I will share more about this over the next several blogs.
Before closing this blog I want to share more about the painter Frederick Terna. The program for the exhibition of his paintings on the Akedah includes a section that he wrote:
About twenty years ago, leafing through one of my old sketchbooks, I came upon a drawing that resembled a person wielding a knife over a smaller figure. It made me pause and I wondered who I feared or who I had wanted to kill. Searching for an answer and not finding one, I wondered about the prototype, the archetype. Abraham and Isaac came to mind. I opened a new sketchbook, put aside the old one, and proceeded to play with the idea.
He continued to explain the relationship of his paintings to the Holocaust:
During World War II, I spent more than three years in German concentration camps. Painting around the theme of the Akedah has become one of my ways, though not the exclusive one, of dealing with those years.
I was curious if Frederick Terna was still alive; since he was born in 1923 he would be 96 now. I Googled and found that he is indeed alive and he had an exhibit at St. Francis College in Brooklyn Heights, NY in the winter of 2017.
On a website called The Ripple Project there is a wonderful interview of him that is called “A Lesson in Civility” and I quote from it. Here’s a link to read more and see some recent photos which I hunch are from about 2017:
A writer from the Ripple Project asked Fred what he thought of the Presidential election. His response is described:
He closed his eyes for [a] second, as he often does before he begins to speak, as if to enhance the drama. Tilting his head right and with a wry smile said: “I’m disappointed, confused, and surprised but not worried. Dictators don’t last, it’s against human nature. We just need to keep our civility.”
As the discussion continued:
Fred responded in a deeper tone, the smile was gone: “When we were in the camps, facing death, humiliation, starvation, anger, not knowing if we will live another 10 minutes… we still kept our civility. We always knew the Nazis wouldn’t last, it’s against human nature. It doesn’t matter what the Nazis did to us, how much they screamed and yelled at us. When we were alone in the room, at night, we were civilized. We knew that our civility is the key to survival, our humanity and civility will outlast the Nazis. It might take a month, a year or ten, but it will outlast them.”
I am indeed very humbled and inspired by both the paintings and words of Fred Terna. Civility is something for all of us to keep in mind each and every day.
In 2003 when my husband and I were thinking about moving from the New York area and I was becoming aware that I no longer had new goals for the dance company, I treated myself to classes at The Art Students League on 57thStreet. Later I’ll write more about my beginning studies in art. I knew it would be important to keep creative energy going in my life. Today I am excited to share how dance and art came together. Just a few weeks ago (on Saturday, January 12th), I led a movement workshop at the Community Art Gallery here in Santa Fe. It came about as a result of having a painting in the show “Exquisite Corpse.” The show was for the 10thanniversary of the gallery, and to be eligible to participate, you had to have been juried into one of their themed exhibitions.
A floral painting of mine had been in an earlier show so I emailed back the form saying I wanted to participate.
The painting that I did for “Viva Flores” in 2013 that made me eligible to participate in the 10thAnniversary Show “Exquisite Corpse.”
The program for the 10thanniversary show describes the intent and motivation:
Exquisite Corpse is an historic parlor game in which participants create one of three components of a figure drawing: head, torso and legs. 130 participating artists created one of those distinct sections. When assembled together, these sections will create an exhibit that unites the disparate parts into singular figures. Each artist’s section is priced individually at $150, and buyers have the opportunity to create their own combinations. ….. What better way to celebrate ten years of building innovative programming hand-in-hand with the community than to have a decade of artists together build a collective work of art.
When I got the return email in the spring, saying that I had gotten the body part of the “head,” I did a big sigh and was glad that I had all summer to work on it. The painting wouldn’t be due at the gallery until the beginning of October. Our instructions were that the piece had to measure 30” wide by 10” high. Well at least that gave me room to put things around the head! I am not good at portrait drawing even though I did do a 5-month program in Santa Fe with the outstanding teacher Anthony Ryder in 2009. In fact it was during those 5 months that Murray and I fell in love with Santa Fe and decided that we wanted to move here and make it our permanent year-round home.
OK… since I was good at flowers I would do a self-portrait surrounding my head with tulips. I had just returned from a spring trip to New York City and had been admiring all the beautiful displays of tulips, particularly in lower Manhattan near where the ferry from Jersey City arrived. Since I was staying in Jersey City and taking the ferry in daily I had lots of opportunity to wander through the display and take photographs.
Slowly over the summer I developed the oil painting, particularly challenged with the self-portrait and loving doing the tulips. I dropped it off at the gallery thinking, “Well at least I completed the assignment even if it wasn’t very good.” They had rescheduled the opening and Murray and I had reservations at Monument Valley, a place we had long wanted to visit, and so we missed the opening.
The view from our room in Monument Valley.
A week later, after returning from Monument Valley, I got an email from the gallery saying my painting had sold. Wow… I was totally surprised. Murray was busy in his office and I went bounding in asking if he wanted to go see the show and go to lunch afterwards. We agreed and I had an hour or so before we would leave. For fun I googled the phrase “Exquisite Corpse” and the most amazing dance interpretation consisting of 42 choreographers, most of whom I was familiar with, came up. (One of the choreographers was former Avodah dancer Sidra Bell.) Each choreographer creates a phrase of about 10 seconds and the next choreographer opens his/her phrase with the last movement of the previous choreographer’s work. The video on You Tube was great fun and extremely well made.
When I got to the gallery I was thrilled with how Rod Lambert, the Community Gallery Manager, had put together the show. He was the one who selected which heads would go with which torsos, and with which feet, and he had done an amazing job. I was thrilled with how my head was arranged with two other pieces.
My self-portrait and how it was arranged with two other pieces in the Exquisite Corpse show.
When I congratulated him on how well the show was displayed, he shared how well the opening had gone, with enthusiasm from both the artists and other attendees. He told us that more paintings were sold at the opening than for any other show. At some point I talked about the video I had seen where 42 choreographers did their version of Exquisite Corpse. Immediately Rod asked me about my background and whether I would be interested in doing a dance workshop related to the show. He always arranged various kinds of workshops around the show and it would be fun to do a dance one since they rarely if ever had done dance. There was a small honorarium for leading the workshop. Of course I said yes and over the next several weeks, via email, we selected a date and I sent in my bio and a brief description of the workshop.
The workshop ended up being quite wonderful. While it was small,with only five participants, each person was totally engaged and brought something special to the group. My friend Regina (a professional storyteller)was one of the participants and she had brought a friend of hers who was also a professional storyteller. Of course at one point in the workshop Regina and I just laughed remembering that we started doing such things together when we were about six years old in her living room. (That’s another blog sometime down the road.) One of the participants was totally deaf. She read lips very well and when she didn’t understand something we wrote on a large piece of paper we had placed on the wall. She had a lovely quality of movement. Two other women came in a few minutes late, one a writer and the other a therapist who had a dance background. They quickly became a part of the group.
We used some warm up improvisational work to lead to the centerpiece of each person creating their own solo. (Since it was a small group and each person was very capable I changed the original plan of small groups creating a dance and instead asked each person to create a solo. That would have been risky with most small groups but not with this one.) I asked them to select a head, a torso and feet from any of the works; the parts did not need to be from the same arrangement. By the way, some of the works were sculptures, like the torso in the piece I was a part of, while others were photographs or paintings in any medium. The choreographers were then to imagine how the head, torso and feet would move with at least 2 movement phrases for each part of the body.
While they were creating their pieces, I put a blanket of percussion instruments out, bringing the energy of my favorite accompanist Newman Taylor Baker into the room. When we gathered back together, each person shared their solo and I accompanied. Then after exploring the instruments, one person selected the instruments they wanted for their solo and another person in the group accompanied them. Each workshop participant also took us to the pieces that had inspired their movements.
The results were super. Before ending we linked the solos together as the 42 choreographers had done, and then we all watched the video I had seen, and which I highly recommend. Here again is the link to watch it.
I left feeling a sense of completeness. Dance and art together shared with five totally present and creative participants!
