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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