“Kaddish” Danced as a Memorial in Two Shabbat Services

A few people have asked me if I am planning to turn the blog into a book.  No, I am not.  What I am finding most meaningful is the immediate input I get in the comment section or in personal emails.  This week’s blog is a result of a comment that Elizabeth McPherson made in response to last week’s blog.  She wrote:  “Also remember performing Kaddish at a memorial service for Yitzhak Rabin after he was assassinated. That was a very intense experience.”  Elizabeth and I emailed back and forth figuring out more about the event. I think we now have a very good picture of how we came to perform Kaddish as a memorial piece for Yitzhak Rabin.

Rabin died on Saturday, November 4, 1995, and it was on November 10th at Rodeph Shalom Congregation that Avodah danced the piece in his memory.  Avodah had a strong relationship with Rodeph Shalom (located on 83rdStreet just off of Central Park in New York City).   Let My People Go was performed there in 1989 (the piece’s opening season), and during the mid-90’s two Avodah dancers and I would lead dance midrash classes in the religious school.  In 1995, we had been booked – many months before Rabin’s assassination – to be part of the November 10th Sabbath service.  On November 9thand 10th, synagogues and Jewish organizations often do programs remembering Kristallnacht.  The U.S. Holocaust Museum provides the following description of Kristallnacht on its website:

Kristallnacht, literally, “Night of Crystal,” is often referred to as the “Night of Broken Glass.” The name refers to the wave of violent anti-Jewish pogroms which took place on November 9 and 10, 1938. This wave of violence took place throughout Germany, annexed Austria, and in areas of the Sudetenland in Czechoslovakia recently occupied by German troops.Kristallnacht owes its name to the shards of shattered glass that lined German streets in the wake of the pogrom—broken glass from the windows of synagogues, homes, and Jewish-owned businesses plundered and destroyed during the violence. (https://encyclopedia.ushmm.org/content/en/article/kristallnacht)

Avodah was set to perform three Holocaust pieces in the November 10th service:  I Never Saw Another Butterfly (which I have written about before), Shema, based on the writings of Primo Levi (and which will be the subject of an upcoming blog), and Kaddish. 

Elizabeth has kept her datebooks and has excellent notes of when she was at Rodeph Shalom rehearsing the piece and when she had to be there for the performance. She also commented:

I do remember that there was a huge audience attending the service at Rodeph Shalom on Nov. 10th.  It was overwhelming, but also felt really important to be there in that space performing at that moment. 

Thank you, Elizabeth, for keeping those datebooks!

Picture from Rodeph Shalom’s website.  Usually, to provide room for the dancers to move, the center podium was taken off the bema or moved to the side, and any movable chairs were also removed from the beta.

About 10 years earlier, on May 9, 1985, we had danced Kaddish in another memorial service.  That time it was at Central Synagogue on Lexington Avenue, for Ben Sommers, who had died that week.  When we arrived at the Synagogue to begin rehearsing and staging the three pieces we would be doing, the rabbi told us about Ben’s death and that it was appropriate that we were there that evening, as Ben had been the President of Capezio (the famous dancewear company) from 1940 to the time of his death.  (Ben had also been a remarkable supporter of dance, including creating the Capezio Foundation, and the Capezio Award for lifetime achievement in dance).  We ended our discussion by saying that the dances that evening and particularly Kaddish would be danced in Ben’s memory.

I remember speaking about Kaddish, and Rick Jacobs may have also spoken, since he danced the opening Kaddish solo.  During the Oneg Shabbat after the service, Ben’s widow, Estelle Sommers (1919–1994), came up to me and said how meaningful the service was.

For the company, Kaddish was always a powerful piece to perform, but on these two occasions, it was indeed particularly meaningful.

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Adding Kaddish to Avodah’s Repertory

 It’s February 5, 1981, and we are premiering a new piece in Avodah’s repertory for a Holocaust Memorial Program at The Savannah College of Art and Design. It is part of a program entitled “Light Through The Darkness,” which has been organized and planned by Congregation Mickve Israel for February 5ththrough 12th.  It is part of a three-part program which includes a dance performance, an art exhibit, and a lecture by a prominent collector.  We have decided to create a new piece for the program, to the first eight minutes of Leonard Bernstein’s “Kaddish” Symphony.  

Poster from the performance

This was not our first performance in Savannah.  This was our third. An article on February 4,1981, in the Georgia Gazettesums up our special relationship with Savannah very well: 

The company has performed on several occasions to standing-room-only crowds in Savannah, and Tucker credits Rabbi Rubin (Saul Rubin) with encouraging her efforts during the company’s early years.

The first time we performed in Savannah was in March 1976 using female dancers from the congregation and bringing a male dancer from Tallahassee. I went in a week before and totally enjoyed my time there working with the dancers, who were lovely. Temple Mickve Israel is an old congregation with an historic sanctuary.  It is located on a beautiful square, and a March 17, 1976 article in City Beat mentions that “while traffic circled about the verdant oasis, the dancers kicked off their shoes, and in leotards and jeans ran through their paces, barefoot in the park.” The publicity, with several articles and pictures of myself and composer Irving Fleet, was excellent for the Friday night service.  In fact, when Irving joined me to rehearse the musicians and we had some time off to stroll along the river walkway and wandered in a shop, the owner recognized us from the newspaper. The Friday night service was indeed packed and standing-room-only.  We performed Sabbath Woman and In Praise as part of a creative service that Rabbi Saul Rubin wrote.

Photograph of the Temple on stationery

We returned to Savannah in the fall of 1976 to repeat the two pieces as part of a regional Biennial Convention of the Southeast Union of American Hebrew Congregations (now called Union of Reform Judaism).  That helped us become better known with congregations in the Southeastern part of the country.  (My favorite memory from the performance in the Shabbat service is that I met a cousin and his wife that I hadn’t seen in years.)

We had a special relationship with Rabbi Saul Rubin and Temple Mickve Israel and I was really pleased to have an opportunity to be part of the Light Through The Darkness Holocaust Program.  I also liked the fact we would have a good space to perform in at the Savannah College of Art and Design.  This was a great opportunity to create a new piece to go with I Never Saw Another Butterfly.  I remember listening to lots of music and giving much thought to what to create.  I stumbled across Bernstein’s “Kaddish” Symphony and loved the first 8 minutes. The piece opens with about a four-minute reading by a solo voice, with some music.  The recording I first found, and originally choreographed to, featured Leonard Bernstein doing the vocal part.  So I created the solo on Michael Bush, the male dancer in the Tallahassee company at that time.  What follows the vocal section is a wonderful burst of music during which the solo dancer joins the other dancers in one of my favorite phrases, which we often used for auditions over the years.  With hands fisted, the dancers rise slowly as a group into a suspended relevé in simple parallel, from which they explode into a skip and leap, and a fan kick into a knee walk into a tilted attitude turn.

The performance in Savannah went well but more important to me was that the new piece Kaddish became a signature part of the repertoire for over twenty years, regularly performed before the Kaddish prayer in services and ending many concerts.  Shortly after that first performance I discovered a recording with a female voice (Bernstein’s wife, Felicia Montealegre) doing the part, and when I returned to New York, I used that recording and taught the solo to Lynn Elliott who did a magnificent job with the part.  

We used the female recording from that point on except when Rick Jacobs performed the solo.  (I obtained the permissions I needed to use the music and each year reported the number of performances so I could pay the appropriate royalty.)

Over the years so many wonderful dancers performed the solo part, and it was great fun for me to see how each dancer made it their own.  Kezia continued to teach the group section to new dancers even when she was no longer in the company.  She adds the following note: 

            One of my proudest moments, both as Assistant Rehearsal Director and as ensemble member, was during a performance at an arts festival, when the music suddenly disappeared in the middle of the group section of Kaddish – a tricky section with changing tempos.  We continued dancing without pause.  Our ensemble work was so reliable that when the music resumed, we were exactly where we should have been, as if nothing unusual had happened.

            Another one of my most memorable performances was in that same festival, a rain-or-shine, mainly-outdoor event.  Let it never be said that we ever performed with less than our full focus, technique, heart and soul – not even when we performed under that LEAKING tent top, for that ONE audience member sitting under his umbrella in the pouring rain to watch us. We laugh at these memories, like other touring mishaps, but they don’t detract from the pleasure of being part of such festivals.  This particular occasion also gave us the rare opportunity to enjoy performances by other artists, including most memorably the lovely music ensemble Voice of the Turtle.

Lynn Elliott inKaddish. Photo by Amanda Kreglow.

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How Binding Evolved Over Time, and a Fun Casting Story

It was very insightful to view three videos of Binding and see how the piece evolved from its first performance in 1989.  The premiere performance that I wrote about in last week’s blog featured two guest performers integrated into the piece.  Cantor Mark Childs and Rabbi Norman Cohen were an important part of the performance.  Mark sang, narrated and was part of the stage action.  Norman also narrated and participated onstage.  In a video of a performance done five years later with Cantor Bruce Ruben, he was very visible but never interacted directly with the dancers.  The choreography of the dancers remained basically the same.  As with the first performance the dancers gave strong and dramatic performances.

For me, in all three videos the strongest moment in the piece is when one of the dancers who has been associated with the character of Sarah dramatically screams “No” instead of “Hineni” (“Here I am”). 

This occurs after the following narration:

And Abraham picked up the knife to slay his son.  Then an angel of the Lord called to him from heaven: ‘Abraham! Abraham!’ and he answered…

Three dancers respond with the traditional “Hineni.” The fourth dancer, her arms held as if cradling a child, screams “No!”

Carla Norwood Armstrong, in writing an Avodah memory, remembered that during a rehearsal of Binding, “when I let out the scream a security guard came running into the room to make sure that we were okay.”

In the third video,  the dancers handled the whole piece, while I played thetriangle and the drum at appropriate places.  I remember a particularly strong rehearsal when I had just added much more for the dancers to do, and one of the dancers, Tanya Alexander, made me stop and think to myself, “Wow she is a strong actress.” It wasn’t just the scream… it was the whole way she was developing her character and making the lines she was saying so believable.

I told Tanya about my call and asked her if she wanted to read for Julie that afternoon.  Of course she said she did.  We continued rehearsing without Tanya and a little while later I got a call from Julie asking if I would mind if Tanya missed rehearsal the next day, as Julie wanted to cast her.  I agreed.  

At that time my daughter Julie was casting the show Law and Order: Special Victims Unit. At a break in rehearsal I impulsively picked up my cell phone and called her.  I mentioned that one of the dancers was a particularly strong actress.  Julie asked me a few questions about her and I described Tanya to her.  Julie said she was actually looking for an actor for a young single mom role that might be just right for Tanya.  The next thing out of her mouth was a request that I send Tanya over to read for her.  

Tanya and I used to laugh about the fact that her actor friends were surprised that she had gotten that part on Law and Order: Special Victims Unit because she had been in a modern dance company directed by the mother of the casting director.  

While I don’t have a photo of Tanya in Binding I do have this photo of her in Kaddish in a performance at Smith College taken by a student in 2000.

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Rehearsals Begin for Binding

Rehearsals began with four collaborating dancers.  Deborah, Kezia, Susan and Beth (Bardin) had all helped to create Sisters.  There was an ease and comfort of working together that I really appreciated with a text like the Akedah which is challenging and disturbing.  I knew where I wanted to begin and that was opening with an angel ballet.  Having been introduced to a wide variety of percussion instruments by Newman Taylor Baker I also had decided that we would use text, chanting and percussion to accompany the movement.  That gives a certain freedom to choreographing as there is no music we need to follow.  It also means we don’t have any form to follow or any musical drive to motivate the piece.

I asked Mark Childs, the cantor we had worked with in Let My People Go, to help create the cantorial score of the piece and to be in at least the first performance in December 1989.  I was very grateful that Rabbi Norman Cohen had indicated his willingness to both speak before the piece was performed and to be part of the performance as well.

So we began with the angel ballet and played around with movement that might reflect a surreal appearance.  This included the dancers walking on tiptoe backwards, making diagonal crossing paths. Ritual movement from the Kedusha prayer would be incorporated.  The Kedusha is part of the Amidah, “the standing prayer which is central to every Jewish service.”  The Kedusha “calls us to imitate the choirs of angels singing ‘Holy, holy, holy.’ There is a custom of rising on our tiptoes with every repetition of the word kadosh, holy.” (https://velveteenrabbi.blogs.com/blog/2015/08/shabbat-morning-gratitude.html

We would take it a step further by turning the rising on the tiptoes to three jumps!  And toward the end of the opening angel ballet which is accompanied by a triangle percussion instrument, Mark would elegantly and boldly chant the traditional prayer.  Following that, the angels would birth the ram, inspired by Frederick Terna’s painting,  to the accompaniment of the traditional sounds of the shofar.

Costumes can sometimes help create a mood.  Somehow I wanted to have a very simple look to the piece and yet have the dancers have fabric that could indicate angel wings.  I loved the pants we had for performing the piece M’Vakshei Or and thought they could work with a black leotard.  The pants had a wrap-around design that gave a perfect place for fabric to be added.  Sometimes when I don’t know what to do for costumes I wander in department stores, particularly in designer areas.  As I was wandering around a store I came across a very simple and elegant chiffon poncho.  It had an irregular cut to it.  The price was over $200 and definitely out of our budget.  I drew a quick sketch of how it was constructed and realized it would be simple to make.  Next stop was the fabric store to pick out four different pastel colors in chiffon and enough extra to add some fabric to the pants.  The costumes worked and gave just the effect I wanted.


The Angels birthing the ram. From l. to r. Beth Bardin, Susan Freeman (as the ram), Deborah Hanna, and Kezia Gleckman Hayman in the chapel at Hebrew Union College – Jewish Institute of Religion, NYC.  Much to my disappointment we have neither formal professional pictures of this piece, nor any taken in dress rehearsal.  Luckily we have a video of the dress rehearsal.  So I have copied the VHS to a DVD and then to an MP4 file.  Using a screen shot I have captured some moments from the piece that I will be sharing in the blog. 

The next section of the piece is based on exploring this line of text: “After these things, God put Abraham to the test.” What were these things?  A duet begins between Deborah and Susan inspired by this poem:

Ishmael the older brother, boasted of his
Blood and brayed: My blood was drained when I was thirteen:

The younger Isaac whispered: if God
Wishes to take me, let God take all of me.


Deborah (standing) and Susan in the forefront as the brothers

At one of the early rehearsals Susan arrived with two poems she had written that she offered for the piece.  With her permission I share these poems which became part of the piece (with slight variations) and inspired choreography.

Abraham’s Trial
 
Hagar is crying – –
Banished and weary – –
In the wilderness.
The desert horizon is
Thirst and starvation.
Collapsing to her knees
She buries her face – –
Not to watch as Death’s path
Unwinds its parched fingers
Ready to take her son
In its suffocating embrace.
 
Hagar is crying in the  – –
After these things
Abraham was put on trial. Abraham is crying,
Forced to turn,
Return to the place
Familiar in his dreams – –
Wilderness.
(written by Rabbi Susan Freeman)
 

Beth and Kezia (l-r) as Hagar interpreting this poem in dance.

The piece continues using the second poem that Susan wrote:

The Birth of Isaac
 
Before these things
Sarah lay breathless.
Her eyes full, her cheeks damp,
Abraham holding their newborn son,
Joyous astonishment – –
And Sarah laughed.
Amazing is the One
Who creates life and death,
Laughter and tears.
And they called the child Isaac.
 
After these things
Sarah lay breathless,
Her eyes full, her cheeks damp.

A dance follows with Deborah as Sarah holding her new son and the three other dancers giggling and laughing in movement until the movement changes to a more hysterical, crying tone.

As the story unfolds Norman and Mark join the dancers on stage portraying Abraham and Isaac.

I could go on describing how the piece continues but instead let me invite you to click this link and see the final rehearsal for yourself.

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The Beginnings of a New Piece Based on the Akedah and Terna’s Paintings

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.

Postcard announcing the Exhibit at HUC-JIR

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Remembering Rabbi Larry Raphael

It is with great sadness that I share news of the passing of Rabbi Larry Raphael.  Larry was an important person in my life and in the Avodah Dance Ensemble’s life, from the time Avodah became associated with Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion in 1978.  At that time, Larry was an Assistant Dean. He stayed at HUC-JIR until 1996, leaving (as Dean) when he became the first Director of Adult Jewish Growth at the Union for Reform Judaism.  He left the New York area in 2003 to become the 9thRabbi at Sherith Israel in San Francisco.  He died this past Sunday.

I liked to refer to him jokingly as Avodah’s casting director, because he told Rick Jacobs (then a student at HUC-JIR) that Avodah was looking for a tall dancer. Rick auditioned and was an important force in the company for many years.  He also recommended, when they were students, Cantor Mark Childs and Rabbi Susan Freeman, both of whom played very important roles in the company.

By 1983, Larry was a Board Member of Avodah, formalizing his enthusiasm and support for the dance company.  As the company’s home address was HUC-JIR and I often stopped by to check Avodah’s mailbox, I was always glad to see Larry in the hallway or stop by his office and know that if there was something on my mind, he would be very welcoming and take time to discuss any challenges I might be facing with the company.

One of Larry’s roles in New York was to conduct High Holiday services for young adults living away from home in Manhattan.  Well, Murray and I didn’t fit the category of “young adults,” but since we had a relationship with HUC-JIR, we were welcome to attend services there. Those attending weren’t a community, but Larry’s warm way of leading made us feel we were.  The Rosh Hashanah service after 9/11 was a good example. Shortly after beginning the service, he invited us to introduce ourselves to someone sitting near us that we didn’t know and share where we were on 9/11.  I will long remember the buzz in the room and the connections made instantaneously.

When Avodah created repertory related to Selichot, Larry invited us to perform that or any relevant dance midrash as part of the afternoon Yom Kippur service.  It was never a full company, as some of the dancers were observing the High Holiday in their home communities, but there were at least two or three dancers who would join me to participate.  It was a special feeling to incorporate dance into this most sacred time in the Jewish calendar, and I am very grateful that Larry gave us that experience.

I was honored to be on the faculty of several summer Kallot of the UAHC (now the URJ), where for five days adults gathered together and studied.  I led dance midrash workshops.  Larry, aided by Barbara Shulman, was in charge.  These were very special programs, not only because we had very enthusiastic and dedicated adults in our sessions, but because I was learning from and connecting with some of the outstanding scholars and cantors of the 90’s and early 2000’s. 

I am deeply grateful for Larry’s role in helping to build The Avodah Dance Ensemble, his friendship, his innovative approach, and his warmth.  The Yiddish word “mensch” so beautifully fits him.  

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Seeing “Mary Poppins Returns” and Remembering a California Tour

Murray and I went to see Mary Poppins Returns at our neighborhood theatre over the December holidays.  It was well attended, mainly with adults and a few families.  I had had some apprehension going to an afternoon showing, thinking that it would be filled with restless kids.  It wasn’t.  While it didn’t quite live up to the high standard of the original Mary Poppins for me there were some wonderful moments in it and I particularly loved the dance scenes with special effects that took the movement to a new level.

The finale is quite amazing and a definite highlight for me.  Angela Lansbury makes a cameo appearance as the Balloon Lady singing the song Nowhere to Go But Up. As the characters select balloons they are swept up into the air and a beautiful scene in the London sky accompanies the singing.  The sky is filled not only with the main characters but with lots of dancers too.

As I left the theatre I was reminded of an Avodah tour in 1983 to Southern California when on our day off we toured Universal Studios and learned about how special effects are done.  Rick Jacobs and Bea Bogorad volunteered to assist in one of the scenes.  Next time we saw them they were in space suits soon to take a trip in their space ship, first against a green screen and then with a different background to make it seem real.  

Bea and Rick being interviewed before their ride in space.
Bea and Rick in Space!

As I was writing this blog I checked in with a dancer, Roberta Behrendt, who I thought (but wasn’t sure) was on the tour.  She confirmed that she was indeed on the tour and remembers the special effects we saw showing the “parting of the Red Sea.” Roberta also reminded me about a day off in San Diego where the full company was photographed on a very large tree in Balboa Park.  I found the photo.

Balboa Park, San Diego.  L.to R. Jean-Ann Yzer, Dircelia Rodin in sun glasses, Roberta Behrendt, JoAnne, Bea Bogorad and Rick Jacobs standing. 

 Another memorable moment on the tour happened as we were packing the car to leave for the airport.  We had home hospitality and some of us were staying at Rick’s parents ‘ house.  We had rented a car for the trip.  Somehow or other the car keys got locked inside the trunkwhen we closed it.  There was this moment of disbelief… total shock. What were we to do next.? And before we could even decide, either Rick’s Mom or Dad had reached into the car’s glove compartment and found there was an extra set of keys.  Many sighs of relief and then this picture was taken.  We made it to the airport in time to catch our flight.

Rick holding up the extra set of keys.  From left to right, Rick, Jean-Ann, Dircelia, me, Rick’s Mom, Rick’s Dad and Bea.   Photo may have been taken by Roberta Behrendt.

Collaboration plays an important role in a small dance company like Avodah. Through the years so many dancers worked together contributing their talents and their wonderful spirit. What fun it is for me to remember not only the creative collaboration but the fun we also had together on our down time.   We worked hard, rehearsed and performed and then we got to play on our days off.

Now back to what motivated these memories, Mary Poppins Returns.  The special effects were just extraordinary and I wanted to learn more about how they did them.  A quick “Google” and I found two excellent articles.  One article goes into detail related to how a broken bowl becomes an amazing adventure and ballet:

For the creative personnel behind Disney’s flashy new sequel, the jaunt through the painterly fantasia of Royal Doulton would prove the production’s most formidable technical challenge — and as director Rob Marshall tells it, “the hardest thing I’ve ever actually done on film.” Speaking with Vulture, Marshall laid out the complicated, labor-intensive process by which the visual-effects team combined live-action, 2-D animation, and 3-D computer rendering to create a passage of eye-popping originality within a repurposing of intellectual property. Whatever a viewer’s criticisms of the film itself, there’s no denying that this sequence represents a stunning synthesis of state-of-the-art technology and old-fashioned artistry.https://www.vulture.com/2018/12/how-mary-poppins-returns-turned-a-bowl-into-a-fantasia.html

The other article describes how they created the ending scene Nowhere to Go But Up. 

The movie’s airborne finale begins on the ground in “Spring Park” aka Pinewood Gardens, where Angela Lansbury’s character hands out magical balloons. Once Mr. Banks (Ben Whishaw) and his family achieve liftoff, the practical location was swapped out for a digitally constructed backdrop. “The challenge there was to make the performances happen live as much as possible,” Johnson says. “We created a full digital park with trees and Ferris wheel along with these highly detailed CG versions of Buckingham Palace and Big Ben in the background.”
With digital London added during post-production, actors floated above the “city” wearing harnesses. Johnson explains, “We had all the principal cast members moving around on wires in front of a green screen. We shot 30 or 40 different passes because Rob has an incredible visual sense. ‘On frame 17 this dancer’s leg would be over there because it’s a nice shape and that balances some other thing. It was all very choreographed.”
https://www.mpaa.org/2018/12/how-mary-poppins-returns-vfx-supervisor-battled-english-weather-won/

Murray and I have the habit of staying through the credits of a movie.  And wow these were long credits acknowledging the large team of both live actors and animation artists involved.  Some of Disney’s traditional cartoon artists came out of retirement to participate.   The power of collaboration and bringing different elements to play with each other was outstanding and hats off to the talented team that worked on this film.   My fascination with the options available for dance and film are clearly getting more and more triggered and I am so glad to be part of the film community here in Santa Fe.

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Avodah Posts Audition Notice for a Tall Male Dancer

Performances – whether in services or as concerts – were growing for both the New York and Florida companies now that bookings were arranged by the Jewish Welfare Board’s Lecture Bureau.  In Tallahassee, Michael Bush consistently danced with the company but in New York it seemed like every few months we were auditioning for a new male dancer.  In the fall of 1980 the company’s female dancers (Lynn Elliott, Beatrice Bogorad, Barbara Finder, and Nanette Josyln) were all tall.  So when I posted an audition notice I indicated that I was looking for a tall male dancer.

Continuing our relationship with Hebrew Union College – Jewish Institute of Religion (HUC-JIR) we were now rehearsing and working out of their new campus on West 4thStreet. The recently constructed five-story building took up the entire block from Mercer to Broadway. The chapel offered a lot of flexibility in how it could be set up and would prove to be an excellent performing space. In the lower level were several large rooms that worked for rehearsals (although as the repertory grew with more leaps and falls, we later rented rehearsal space in Chinatown that had beautiful, safer floors for dancers).  

I made several attempts to see how I might blend the two companies together.  For one tour in upstate New York, two Tallahassee dancers, Judith Blumberg and Michael Bush, joined Bea Bogorad, Barbara Finder, and Lynn Elliot for several performances.  At another time Lynn Elliott came to Tallahassee to rehearse and then perform in Savannah. Blending the companies didn’t really achieve the ensemble feeling that each group had independently and which I valued, so I chose to have the two companies operate separately but with similar repertory.

The New York company had a booking on a Friday night in the fall of 1980 as part of the Shabbat service, at a reform congregation on Long Island.  I had arrived in New York a week before and posted audition notices for a tall male dancer. Several men showed up but Rick Jacobs was the obvious choice. Rick is 6’4” and was then a fourth-year rabbinic student at the New York Campus.  In an article in The Chronicle  (a publication of HUC-JIR) two years later, Rick told the writer about this time in his life:

Rick was living what he described as a “very schizophrenic” life without much hope that he could integrate his commitment to the rabbinate and his love of dance.  It had been a constant struggle to continue the dance training he had begun as an undergraduate at the University of California at Santa Barbara.  He managed to find sympathetic dance instructors in Jerusalem and Los Angeles, and had taught dance in the Reform movement’s summer camps……

Rick auditioned on Tuesday and danced with the company on Friday.  He quickly learned the two pieces for Friday’s service, Sabbath Woman and In Praise.  

Three photos of Rick Jacobs and
Nanette Joslyn in the “Barechu” duet
from  In Praise
Lynn Elliott in the “May the Words” solo from  In Praise

While Rick only had to learn those two pieces for the Friday night service, Avodah’s repertory had grown to five regularly performed pieces and Rick soon learned two more pieces of the repertory, I Never Saw Another Butterfly and the part of Abraham in Sarah.  

With Rick joining the company, new ideas began to fly and it wasn’t long before Rick and I were collaborating on a new piece based on rituals of the Torah service.  Earlier that year I had met David Finko, a composer and recent immigrant from the Soviet Union. David had written symphonies and other major works that were performed in the Soviet Union and Europe.  I suggested to Rick that David might be a good choice to compose music for our new piece.  So one day we drove down to Philadelphia to meet with David and talk to him about our idea for the new piece.  I remember it as an inspiring day with very warm hospitality provided by David’s lovely wife who cooked a special meal for us.  We shared our ideas about a piece in five parts opening with a meditation section based on ritual movement.  I don’t remember much about three of the sections as they ended up being cut about a year later.

My scrapbook provides some useful information. The Temple Bulletin from Rodef Shalom in Pittsburgh, where the piece would receive its premiere having been commissioned by the 125thAnniversary Fund of the congregation, describes the new work, M’Vakshei Or (“Seekers of Light”) as blending words, dance and music “together to encourage modern Jews to search Torah for its wisdom.”  It continues describing the piece: “Establishing a prayerful mood, the dance cantata presents the ‘sacred weaving of tales’ and ‘laws that guide our lives.’”  

Helping to create M’Vakshei Or and dancing in the first performances of the piece were other company members.  Lynn Elliott, who was in the first New York City performances, continued working with the company, bringing her background from Interlocken Arts Academy, college training at SUNY at Purchase, studies with Alfredo Corvino and performing experience with the Dance Circle Company.  Joining her was Nanette Joslyn from Los Angeles where she performed at Disneyland and with the Santa Barbara Ballet.  Barbara Finder had an MFA in Dance from the University of Michigan and also studied dance at the Martha Graham Studio, and with both the Jose Limon Company and Anna Sokolow.  Dina McDermott grew up in New Jersey and had recently completed her BFA from Juilliard.  

Beatrice Bogorad was no longer working with the company, having begun work with Charlie Moulton, and then later with Susan Marshall. Luckily a few years later her schedule made it possible for her to again work with Avodah. 

Barbara Finder moved on and by the time the piece was performed in New York City  at the Emanu-El Midtown Y on 14thStreet, Roberta Behrendt had joined the company.  Roberta had attended the Alabama School of the Arts and had a BA in dance from Florida State University and I was of course aware of Florida State’s fine dance department.  I was thrilled to have so many excellent dancers to work with.

M’Vakshei Or,  performed at the 14thSt. Y. Dancers from L to R: Rick Jacobs, Lynn Elliott, Roberta Behrendt, and Nanette Joslyn. Photo by Amanda Kreglow.

Repertory performed on May 1 – 2, 1982 at the 14thStreet Y was Sabbath Woman, Sarah, Mother of the Bride, Noshing,and Kaddish.  I’ll have more to say about the two comic pieces Mother of the Bride and Noshing in later blogs, and Kaddish when I talk about more repertory created for Holocaust Programs.  But my thread for the next several blogs will relate to what we learned from M’Vakshei Or.

From L to R: Nanette Joslyn, Dina McDermott, and Lynn Elliott in Sabbath Woman. A favorite picture of mine from the 14thSt. concert.  Photo by Amanda Kreglow.

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A Three-Week Season in NYC

I think Stanley Brechner, the Artistic Director of the American Jewish Theatre, came to our performance at Hebrew Union College in April of 1979 and that is where the discussion first began for us to become part of the American Jewish Theatre’s 1979 – 1980 season.  I found in my file two letters between myself and Stanley Brechner. Avodah would receive 70% of the box-office receipts with ticket prices in the range of $2.50 to $3.50 in a house that seated 90.   While that wasn’t great compensation I do remember knowing this was a great opportunity for us to have exposure in the New York area.  An article in Show Business (September 27, 1979) was among the publicity we got for the three-week run:

            “The American Jewish Theatre produces, mostly comedies and dramas, although occasionally we do musicals and dance,” says artistic director Stanley Brechner. “Quality is the first criterion,” he stresses, “although the play should deal with the Jewish experience in some way.”

As I began to work on this blog, I was curious to learn more about the American Jewish Theatre. Did it still exist? And if not what was Stanley Brechner doing?  I got some answers but not all.  The American Jewish Theatre was founded in 1974 by Stanley Brechner.  Henry St. Settlement gave them space for three to four productions a year, office space, use of telephones but no money. By the end of the 1979 season they had moved to the 92nd Street Y and remained there until 1987. Shortly after that they occupied the Susan Block Theatre in Chelsea as a subtenant of the Roundabout Theatre. In 1993 an article in The New York Times (July 17, 1993) reported a disagreement between the Roundabout Theater and its tenant, the American Jewish Theater, over the occupancy of the Susan Block Theater because the Roundabout said it wanted to use the space itself.  Locks were changed and all the property of the American Jewish Theater was moved to a locker.  Stanley Brechner is quoted as saying, “The American Jewish Theater is now homeless.”  The article went on to point out that the American Jewish Theater had 2,500 subscribers and an annual budget of $375,000.  

It appears that they continued producing plays through 1998. After that I can’t find any professional information on either the American Jewish Theater or what Stanley Brechner is currently doing.

Back to 1979 and our performances in the very simple and intimate recital hall of Henry Street. We presented the five pieces in our repertory at that time: In PraiseSabbath WomanI Never Saw Another ButterflySarah, and Shevet Ahim Gam Yahad.  I have written about the first four of those pieces in earlier blogs. Shevet Ahim Gam Yahad (“behold, how good it is to dwell together”) was set to music of Lucas Foss and explored how we can relate to each other as community.  I did not feel most of the piece was successful but did love a trio section that later I included, to different music, in a piece that we created for the Selichot Service.

Beatrice Bogorad and Randy Allen rehearse the section I like from Shevet Ahim Gam Yahad in the Creative Dance Center in Tallahassee where I created the piece.

Among the dancers in the Fall of 1979 in New York City was Beatrice Bogorad whom I met when she was a dance major at Florida State University in Tallahassee.  Bea came to dance late in her college career and I remember seeing her in class when she first came and wondering if she would make it in the dance world.  Well…. she sure did and I was so glad that she worked with us first in Tallahassee and then continued to perform with the New York company when she was available.

Our Poster for the Performances at Henry Street Settlement as part of the
American Jewish Theater.

As a relatively unknown modern dance company in New York City and with so many performances it was a challenge to fill the house.  Luckily Henry St. and the American Jewish Theater had a following. Sometimes we were totally full and at other times we had small audiences.  One particular night stands out very clearly in my mind. There were only six people in the audience.  However, one of those attending was Jennifer Dunning, one of three dance critics of The New York Times.  Hum… do I share this with the dancers?  I pondered and then thought I had best mention it because I certainly did not want them to be discouraged with such a small audience.  They, of course, danced beautifully.  We eagerly waited for the review to appear in the paper.  Alas, it didn’t. I learned that many reviews are cut based on space and the editor of the section.  I did call the Times  and ask if we could see the review and a week or so later I received it in the mail. It was quite respectable and while I couldn’t quote from it, it was very reaffirming.  The review was positive to all the dancers and ended with, “Miss Bogorad, in particular, is a young dancer to keep an eye on.”  Indeed she was right on, for over the next several years, Bea danced with Charles Moulton and Susan Marshall, consistently receiving outstanding reviews.  We were thrilled when she was free and could continue to perform with Avodah.

Having a three-week season so early in Avodah’s history taught me many things.  Among them were never judge an audience by size for one never knows who is there and how they might impact you, and repeated performances help to build a quality level in a company.  

Richard Osborne, Bea Bogorad and Lynn Elliott in I Never Saw Another Butterfly in the Recital Hallat Henry St. Settlement, October 1979.

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Exploring Biblical Sarah

The third piece that Irving Fleet and I collaborated on was called Sarah. I mentioned it in the blog about the beginning of the New York company and want to go into more detail about the piece in this blog. Irving is quoted in an article in the Tallahassee Democrat as saying, “JoAnne was always intrigued with the character of Sarah” (March 2, 1979).  And I hunch that was probably what motivated us to begin exploring her story.  We honed in on that part of her life centered on first being unable to bear a child for her husband, then offering her handmaiden, Hagar, to bear a child for her and finally, when she becomes pregnant, Abraham celebrating the news.  For me this was the beginning of my own journey creating “dance midrash.” Midrash refers to both the early interpretations and commentaries on Torah as well as modern ones.  At the time I didn’t know this word. Later I would create a number of dance pieces that I considered midrash, co-author a book on dance midrash (Torah in Motion: Creating Dance Midrash, with Rabbi Susan Freeman), and teach many workshops involving dance midrash. 

While telling the story was somewhat important, it was exploring Sarah’s emotions that we focused on the most: Sarah’s anguish at not becoming pregnant; her jealousy and anger at Hagar when Hagar does bear a child for Abraham, which results in Sarah banishing Hagar; and then her joy when she becomes pregnant in her old age.  

Ritual movement again played an important choreographic role in the piece.  When Abraham renews his covenant with God following news of Sarah’s pregnancy, Sarah, in our midrash, takes off the rope from her gown and gives it to Abraham.  He then uses it for tefillin (ritual leather boxes with straps, which contain Torah text). Tefillin are traditionally only worn by men during the weekday morning service. They wrap one set around the arm, hand and fingers, and wrap the other set above the forehead. As Abraham is often referred to as the father of the morning prayer this ritual seemed an appropriate one to draw on.  In the same article in the Tallahassee Democrat that I referred to earlier I am quoted as saying, “Dance composition should go back to everyday gestures, take them, enlarge and manipulate them.”  And that is exactly what I did with the ritual of wrapping tefillin. I thought it worked very well.  However, not everyone agreed with me.  In fact, we had received some funding that year from the National Foundation for Jewish Culture and when the piece was later performed in New York City, the Executive Director from the NFJC made a very strong point of letting me know that I clearly didn’t understand what wrapping tefillin was, as it was entirely inappropriate for Sarah to hand Abraham the rope from her gown to use.  Indeed I did very much understand and part of my feminist statement was purposefully to have Sarah hand it to him.

On Saturday March 3, 1979, the first performance of Sarah was held as part of a concert at Temple Israel in Tallahassee along with Sabbath WomanIn Praise and I Never Saw Another Butterfly.   The piece was created on the Tallahassee company with Ellen Ashdown as Sarah, Michael Bush as Abraham, Judith Lyons as Hagar and  two handmaidens, Donna Campbell and Trish Whidden. 

From my scrapbook. Photograph that was part of the Tallahassee Democrat article,
March 2, 1979.

Six weeks later I recreated the piece for the New York company with Lynn Elliott dancing the role of Sarah in a performance at Hebrew Union College – Jewish Institute of Religion’s West 68thStreet Campus.  

In the fall of 1979, we did a three-week season at Henry St. Settlement House on the Lower East Side of New York City as part of the American Jewish Theater.  This was an excellent experience for us and I will write a full blog about it.  For right now I want to share part of a review from Dance Magazine (by Marilyn Hunt) of  the performance of Sarah  at Henry St. 

             Sarah, a Grahamesque drama of a woman of large-scale passions is portrayed concisely and lucidly. Sarah vents her despair at being childless by lashing one leg around, pacing, and whipping her hair in a circle.  In contrast, her handmaiden, young Hagar, whom Sarah gives to her husband, Abraham, to bear him a child, carries her imaginary water jar with chest thrust proudly forward and has a formal ritual-like mating with Abraham.  Only the ending, God’s promise that Isaac, Abraham and Sarah’s belatedly-born son, would father the tribes of Israel, failed to come across in dance terms.  The two women’s roles were especially well filled by Lynn Elliott and Peggy Evans.  Dance Magazine, February 1980.   

A year later when Rick Jacobs, who was then a rabbinic student at HUC-JIR, joined the company and learned the part of Abraham, the ending blessing took on a whole new dimension, as the prayer and actual movement were already deeply meaningful to him, and he performed the section in a uniquely heartfelt way. 

Rick Jacobs as Abraham, 1981.  Photo by Amanda Kreglow
Rick Jacobs and Lynn Elliott in Sarah. Photo by Amanda Kreglow.

Sarah continued to be beautifully performed regularly by the New York company during the next several years with Rick dancing the part of Abraham, and Lynn Elliott dancing the part of Sarah.  For me Sarah was the first of a series of pieces focusing on Biblical women.  And I would revisit Sarah, more than once. 

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