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.
While days on tour were demanding, with long hours spent in the performing space whether it was a synagogue or theatre, we occasionally had time to sightsee or just have a day off to relax! Most of those times were wonderfully refreshing, and right now I only remember one tour in which I was so exhausted I barely communicated with the dancers and was just glad to have time alone. This stood in strong contrast to most of the time when we had fun planning what we would do and enjoying each other’s company. With a small company and only one car, having a congenial group was important.
As this blog continues I’ll be sharing my experiences. I enthusiastically invite others to send their favorite memories of days off while on tour with a dance, theatre company, or music group You can just send a sentence or two or have fun writing a fuller “but brief” description. Pictures are always welcome. I’ll put some memories together for a community guest blog. You can share either anonymously or with your name.
One of our most frequent day-off decisions was whether it was best to stock up on food from a grocery store or plan to enjoy a restaurant meal (or a combination of both). (Kezia’s favorite description was from Ida Rae Cahana — that touring was “all about packing, unpacking and foraging for food.”) I can remember lots of meals where afterwards we would pass the one check around the table (‘cause many places would not do separate checks) and each person would calculate what they owed and also put in an amount for a tip. I learned to be a better tipper from those trips, as some of the dancers had been or were waitpersons and understood how important a good tip is!!
Quite often to keep costs low we did home hospitality. Some of these were wonderful experiences where we met people who became friends and contributors of the company through the years. Occasionally, hosted experiences were unpleasant but most of those times a dancer was not alone at a house, so the dancers could support each other and keep a sense of humor about the experience. On one such occasion, Kezia and I were in a house where a five-year-old child kept intruding into our space and asking repeatedly if he could see me naked because he wanted to see a fat person without clothes on! Yes I was heavy and the first time it was kinda funny but soon it became annoying. Kezia (though appalled) helped me keep my sense of humor on this occasion.
Our housing could be all extremes — from mansions to dorm rooms with a mattress on the floor and limited sheets/blankets. Luckily the mattress on the floor only happened for one night at a college booking. One time I spent a few nights in the home of the CEO of a cruise ship line in a beautiful separate guest house overlooking the water in a gated community in the Miami area. I remember a time when two company members stayed in a home that had actual Picasso works.
In the early days of the company one of my favorite trips was to Savannah, GA with Irving Fleet. We were there to stage In Praise as part of the service at Temple Mickve Israel and there had been wonderful publicity. We had the morning off and were wandering on a tour on Riverwalk which runs along the southern edge of the Savannah River, and we entered a touristy jewelry store mainly consisting of beads where you made your own necklace or bracelet. The person behind the counter got very excited and said something like “Oh I recognize you… you were in today’s newspaper!”
The California tours always provided a few fun days off. Once when we were in the Santa Rosa area several of us drove up to Calistoga and I did my one and only mud bath. Calistoga was an interesting small town at the end of the well known Napa Valley, home to hot springs, mud baths and wineries. I remember it as quaint and fun just to walk/drive around. I didn’t like the mud bath too much but was glad I had tried it!
Sometimes we went for gentle hikes or had a beach day or hung around a pool. On a Colorado tour we did a circle drive west of Denver that took us up to a snow-filled pass that had only recently been opened.
What follows next are some of my favorite day-off pictures. A few of them have been in earlier posts!! Some are new.
From an Avodah scrapbook. On the left is Kezia relaxing under a tree and Beth Millstein on the beach, both taken on a Florida tour.Colorado tour when we took a circle trip into the mountains west of Denver. From l to r Loretta Abbott, Newman, JoAnne, Deborah and Cantor Ida Rae Cahana. On a California Tour from l to r. Deborah Hannah, Beth Bardin, Kezia, Susan FreemanRick Jacobs and Bea Bogorad volunteer to be part of a demonstration on our day off tour of Universal City on an early California tour.
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!!
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.
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)
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
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.
One of the main political talking points a year ago was how to reform U.S. immigration policies. Today it is overshadowed by COVID-19. Yet it is still a very important theme because immigration is a fundamental building block of the United States, and the current administration does all it can to block entry to the country. As director of the Avodah Dance Ensemble, I became fascinated with the Jewish immigrant experience to the U.S. In 1985 I came across a book called Chaia Sonia, written by Don Gussow, describing the journey he and his family made to the U.S. (arriving in 1920). After reading the book, I reached out to Don Gussow, asked to meet with him, and then asked for permission to use ideas from the book as themes for a new piece the dance company. He was most enthusiastic, and generous with his time, and he strongly urged me to meet his son Alan Gussow as a possible collaborator on the project. Alan and I met, and Alan began coming to rehearsals and became a key collaborator on “Journey.” I will be writing more about that later but first I want to share the result of a Google search to check the proper spelling of the title of the book Chaia Sonia.
I am never satisfied to see just what comes up on the first page of a search. I usually continue for five to ten pages more, just because I often find fun surprises and additional information. That is exactly what happened with the search for Chaia Sonia and Gussow. First of all I was thrilled to see the book is still available and there is even a free download at one site, although I was reluctant to try it since it required registering and I wasn’t sure of the website. What I did find was a YouTube video recorded by Don’s grandson Adam Gussow in July 2019. Adam has been a Professor of English and Southern Studies at the University of Mississippi since 2002. But I knew about Adam because his father Alan often proudly shared that Adam was building a reputation as a harmonica player, and that was back in 1985. Indeed Adam has built an outstanding reputation and is highly regarded for his blues harmonica playing. A review in American Harmonica Newsletter says that “Gussow’s playing is characterized by his technical mastery and innovative brilliance that comes along once in a generation.” Futhermore there is a documentary on Netflix called Satan and Adam about Adam’s collaboration with Sterling “Mr. Satan” Magee. It is a fascinating and well done documentary, covering from Adam’s first meeting with Satan (on Satan’s spot on a Harlem street) through their longtime collaboration.
I watched the full 23-minute video on YouTube with total attention. And of course the opening title immediately caught my attention because its full version is so relevant to this blog. The second line says, “All my people are immigrants – An American apologizes for the behavior of our president.” It opens with Adam playing the harmonica and wow that just inspired my old bones to get up and dance. Soon Adam begins speaking about his own family roots and in particular the book his grandfather wrote and how deeply he wants to apologize for the behavior of the president of the U.S. I strongly urge you to watch it. Here is the link.
Don Gussow, author of Chaia Sonia, was a publisher of trade magazines and wrote four books. Chaia Sonia tells of his family’s flight through Poland and Russia to freedom. It is an incredible journey focusing on his mother, a courageous woman who led her family on a five-year journey from Lithuania to the United States, arriving in 1920.
Current cover of Chaia Sonia, which is available at Amazon. I remember a slightly different cover… but my memory could be wrong.
Before talking specifically about the piece “Journey” that we created, I want to share a little bit about Alan Gussow (1931-1997). He had an outstanding, nearly 50-year career as an artist, author, activist/environmentalist and educator. At age 21 he was awarded the Prix de Rome. He was introduced to art and in particular watercolor as a student at Middlebury College. The following is[fix] an excerpt from a Fall 2018 article in the Maine Arts Journal, written by Carl Little, entitled “In Conversation with the World: Alan Gussow’s Watercolors”:
“As a student at Middlebury College in Vermont, I learned at least two things about art,” Gussow once recalled. “First, that art was magical. How I or any person could mix a little water with some paint and then make marks and shapes which look like parts of the world still remains a source of wonder.”….. “At Cooper Union where I studied for one year after Middlebury,” Gussow recalled, “I learned that art was a form of energy.” However nature-centered his art became, he consistently practiced a highly expressive approach to subjects, often entering realms of abstraction.
It is interesting to note that in the 80’s Alan began experimenting with art as a process instead of a product. He brought wonderful energy into the process of our rehearsals.
As I continued developing ideas for the piece I decided that I wanted to reach out to others who had made a journey from Russia to the U.S. about the same time. I was lucky to know two other people with stories to share. One, Louis Siegel,was the father of a longtime friend of mine. We met and he shared his story. I was immediately struck by themes similar to Don Gussow’s story. My husband’s Aunt Bess also recorded her story for us and again the same themes emerged. These were long and difficult journeys involving crossing rivers, being hungry and sometimes stealing food.
Rehearsals began with the five Avodah dancers at that time: Beatrice Bogorad, Jean Ference, Kathy Kellerman, Rachelle Palnick and Rick Jacobs. Alan often joined us, sometimes with a very large piece of paper that he spread on the floor and enjoyed drawing on as we danced. Ideas from the drawings later became a poster and invitation to our opening night performance. We responded to the stories, creating an abstract piece with the desire to get to core of the experience, capturing the energy it took to make such a long and difficult journey. I am not sure how successful we were with the finished product but the process was a meaningful and rich experience, at least for me, as the collaboration with Alan opened new doors and ways of thinking of things. And interestingly, in researching for this blog, I feel a reconnecting with Alan. I now look forward to studying his watercolors and learning from them, as well as from his writing, what I might apply here as I experiment with watercolor and enjoy time painting in our garden.
Page from Avodah Scrapbook showing the poster and invitation painted by Alan Gussow.
A favorite picture from “Journey.” Photo by Tom Brazil.
Our “Let My People Go” cast members of The Avodah Dance Ensemble are like a family. There is a special closeness, especially among those of us who worked directly with Louis. So it felt quite natural that the way I would hear about Louis’s passing this past Tuesday, March 31, was to get a message from Christopher Hemmans, who danced in “Let My People Go” while a student at Juilliard. He shared this notice, and a little later I got a text message from Freddie Moore, sharing the same link.
I am filled with so many warm memories of my collaboration and friendship with Louis and feel so blessed that he was an important part of my dance history. I have written many blogs about the collaboration, from the first blog of Mostly Dance (on June 1, 2018) to a most meaningful one on September 7, 2018 describing the last meeting I had with Louis. Kezia so beautifully wrote of Louis in 1999, and that is a part of the September 7th blog too. I encourage you to check it out along with all the other blogs from June 1 to September 7, 2018.
We are living in such a strange time with so many deaths that I fear that Louis’s passing will go without the proper honoring that he deserves. When Loretta Abbott passed we had a small but very special meeting together at St. Mark’s church hosted by Jeannine Otis. Now it looks like the way we can gather together is via a ZOOM meeting. So I am suggesting to our Avodah family that we do a ZOOM meeting to share our favorite memories of Louis. How about if we plan on doing that after Passover and Easter… on Tuesday, April 21st, the time to be determined by who wants to participate. Please leave a comment on the blog, or email me directly at jotuc122@gmail.com if you would like to participate.
Several of the recent blogs explored the unique changes in the dance company that occurred with The Forgiveness Project and a new creative burst of energy I felt. The three new pieces that I created with the four dancers in the company were challenging and very satisfying. We had an excellent photo shoot with dance photographer Tom Brazil in our rehearsal space (which also serves as a theatre) at Chen and Dancers. In this blog I share several photos that I have not shared in previous blogs, from each of the pieces.
From l. to r. Andrea, Kerrie, Jessica, and Danielle
From l. to r. Danielle, Jessica, Andrea, and Kerrie
Kerrie holding Jessica
I am deeply grateful for the collaboration with Avodah
dancers through the years in creating pieces that I was proud to have in our
repertory. The Forgiveness Project (with music by, and with the creative
collaboration of Newman Taylor Baker); Tent,
Tallit and Torah; and Heroic Deeds are examples of creative energies coming together in
a wonderful collaborative way.
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.
Just a few weeks after our residency at the Jewish congregation in Westchester we were off to Niantic, Connecticut for our final residency in a women’s prison. I was still wrestling with an uncertainty of my own beliefs as well as what I saw as the future direction of the dance company, when we arrived on Sunday evening and gathered at a local church to meet our host families for the five nights we would be in Niantic.
Monday morning, 8:30 a.m. the dancers, Newman and I gathered in the waiting room of the prison. I am pretty sure that Joe Lea, who was handling all the details of the residency and had invited us, met us and guided us through the process of entering the facility. Following a brief orientation we were guided to the school which was in the maximum security side and entered the large classroom that had been cleared of most furniture except chairs along one side. While not an ideal space it was certainly large enough and even had its own private bathroom.
Twenty-four women and one of the staff teachers soon joined us. To be part of our program the women had to be enrolled in school, have permission from a teacher and have successfully taken two dance classes led by a teacher on staff who had a dance background. Joyce, the teacher who had led the classes, explained that the criterion for the women’s participation in our residency was that they could follow directions and make it through an elementary jazz-like dance class. Women of all sizes and ages, with or without any dance background, were welcomed.
Once everyone was in the room I asked them to make a large circle, and the four company members and I spread out joining the circle. Newman was busy setting up his instruments at the far end of the room. Usually I begin with a warm up led by one of the company members and that was what I had planned to do… but looking around the room I turned to Joyce and asked her to start the class and we would follow along. She did and we followed her warm up for about 10 minutes. Then she said they had created a dance and asked if I wanted to see it. Indeed I did. The company members joined me as we watched a short jazz-style dance of about a minute. Then I asked Joyce and the women to teach it to the four Avodah company members. They did and everyone was enjoying having the company members dancing with them. I asked if I might coach it a bit and was greeted with enthusiasm. They quickly responded to the few suggestions I gave.
Then I asked the women to sit on one side of the room and said that I would share a little about the style of dance we did. Accompanied by Newman we shared some of the elements of modern dance focusing on different qualities of movement, floor patterns, and changing dynamics. I then asked the group to give us a theme to dance about. One woman raised her hand and I called on her. She said the feelings of a sad baby crying. Kerri, Andrea, Jessica and Danielle responded beautifully, creating a heartfelt movement improvisation. You could have heard a pin drop in the room and the women were so clearly with the dancers. I knew we were off to a very good start and that the women in the room and the four Avodah dancers would have no problem working together. They had become a company of 28 women who would work on The Forgiveness Piece together to perform for other women at the facility on Friday. Joe was also inviting some outside guests to the join the audience and we had scheduled two performances, one in the morning and one in the early afternoon.
As the week continued each of the company dancers had a small group of women that they worked with developing dances on different stages of forgiveness. We also taught them some ensemble sections and I remember coaching them on the ending movement of the piece where I suggested that as each person brought their arms down they lift their sternum at the same time thinking of their hearts opening. When I asked them to do that section again I was stunned to see the change and that each person in the room had taken that instruction to heart. I remember looking over at Newman and we nodded at each other. The women had gotten it and the result was very powerful.
We did not know any of the reasons the women were incarcerated. That is something one doesn’t ask. We were taken by how attentive they were and incredibly responsive to suggestions. It was a very diverse group of all ages and sizes. There was even a mother and daughter who were working together and really expressing how much they were glad to have this time together. Sometimes we would watch teachers observing through a small glass window at the door, and occasionally they would have tears in their eyes.
It was a pretty exhausting week as in addition to the daily work for two-and-a-half hours in the morning we were doing other afternoon workshops and a regular Avodah Dance Ensemble concert one evening in the minimum security side for women who wouldn’t be able to attend the Friday performances.
I seem to remember meeting with the women who would be performing with the company on Thursday afternoon as well as the morning so they would have a chance to run through The Forgiveness Piece from beginning to end. I also staged curtain calls at that time. Very rarely do I do individual curtain calls but this time I did and the women had great fun figuring out their unique way to enter, take a bow, and exit.
In next week’s blog I’ll share some memories of the actual performance. Before I close this blog, I want to mention that earlier that year York formed a Forgiveness Project Committee made up mainly of teachers in the school and put together a full program of guest speakers related to the week’s theme. It included a child of a Holocaust Survivor, a discussion about the “plight of the Native Americans as it relates to trust and forgiveness” and meditation related to Tibetan nuns and how the Tibetan people pray for their captors and continue “good works” in the hope that life will get better.
The School Committee also offered afternoon workshops that women could sign up for. On Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday we led workshops. There were also other workshops with topics such as “Building Bridges,” “Is Forgiveness Possible?” and “Oral Storytelling.”
The Committee designed an excellent 8-sided brochure describing Avodah’s role and the goals for participants. In addition, the brochure gave the 400 women who were enrolled in the school program a chance to sign up for the guest speakers and the workshops. I am so glad that I saved the brochure, and below is the cover.
