Deborah Hanna - Mostly Dance

Rehearsals Begin for “Let My People Go”

JoAnne Tucker / June 29, 2018November 20, 2018 / "Let My People Go"

Starting work on a new piece always brings a level of anxiety. Will this work? And collaborating with a new person brings additional questioning: How will we get along? Who will do what? With Louis it was hard to pin down a specific schedule of when he would be there and so I learned quickly that I would need to have a whole lot of flexibility on one hand and at the same time a sense of stability for the six performers.

Usually I had to rent rehearsal space for the company. For this piece I didn’t, as Louis generously made a studio available for us at Henry Street. That also gave Louis the flexibility of making himself available as his schedule allowed without having to do any additional traveling.

I remember climbing stairs to a lovely small dance studio, like an attic area of Henry Street, that worked perfectly for us, especially at first when we were working in small groups and not running the full piece. I quickly learned that having a high degree of flexibility was almost an understatement, and I had to be prepared to choreograph or rehearse whether Louis was there or not. Louis and I had talked about the fact I should feel free to choreograph sections of the poem that appealed to me. Quite a few early rehearsals were with Kezia, Loretta and Deborah creating movement to sections of the poem in my typical modern dance style.

When Louis was available, I knew my role was to watch carefully what he was setting so that I could review and rehearse sections he set, at later rehearsals when he wasn’t there. Louis is a true showman, looking for dramatic opportunities. He soon framed the piece with entrances that each dancer invented, crossing the stage while shouting “Let My People Go.” This is followed by a confrontation of the three women that then leads to Kezia’s being pushed to the ground. In the silence that follows, Deborah moves downstage, and picks up a stage prop book of the James Weldon Johnson poem and begins to read from it. I loved watching Louis work and build amazing dramatic moments into the thirty-five minute piece. He found moments to add comedy and surprise twists to the retelling of the poem, and to bring in recent history with references to Martin Luther King and South Africa.

One of the memorable moments of the rehearsal period was when Mark Childs came to his first rehearsal with Louis. Louis assigned him some movement to do, and Mark strongly proclaimed he didn’t dance; he was there to chant. Louis would hear nothing of it and gave him a movement assignment, and before long, Mark was totally engaged in not only singing but in dancing. And then Louis wanted to know what instrument Mark played. When Mark said he played a saxophone, he was told to bring it to the next rehearsal. And so Mark brought his sax to rehearsal. When Louis suggested that Mark slide across the stage while playing his saxophone, Mark drew the line and refused. Louis respected that and so at three different places in the piece Mark added variety by playing both traditional melodies on the sax and improvising while crossing or circling the stage. And so it went . . . Louis’s imagination challenging performers and adding fun theatrical moments. Louis asked Kezia what tricks she could do. Stumped, she said she didn’t do any tricks. Laughing, she added, “I blow bubbles,” referring to children’s soap bubbles that she had brought on a recent tour. And so there is Kezia in the piece, running across the stage waving a child’s bubble wand with a stream of bubbles floating behind her (“Pharoah called for his magic men, and they worked wonders, too”).

At another moment, Loretta breaks into a rap version of “Let My People Go.” At one of our meetings in Louis’s office before rehearsal he shared that he loved to listen to pop music that kids were listening to, so that he stayed in touch with current trends and had new things to inspire him. I loved his sense of “entertainment” and saw that even in dealing with difficult and serious subjects, playful movement worked. I was learning a lot from him.

Loretta had appeared in the Broadway show “Purlie” that Louis had choreographed, and at one rehearsal Louis added a step from that choreography. Loretta carefully coached the other dancers – including Mark — so that the movement and accent would be just right. Loretta was invaluable in helping us when Louis wasn’t there, as she understood his style and what he would want.

Following a dance solo for Rob, Louis added the moment that had sparked his interest in doing the project. Loretta sang the spiritual “Go Down Moses” while Mark chanted the related Hebrew text from Exodus while circling the stage. That remains for me one of the most powerful moments in the thirty-five minute piece.

As we got close to the final rehearsal, our drummer, Leopoldo, joined us, and Louis came up with the idea of the drummer opening the show, entering an empty, dimly lit stage or walking down the aisle to the performing area. The show also ended with just the drummer on stage and one dancer having been pushed to the floor. It worked. We began to have run-throughs and always some new idea came to Louis’s imagination and he eagerly added it. I remember sitting beside him at our final rehearsal which was in a much larger room than usual, and thinking how well the overall piece looked. My husband Murray joined me, since I wanted to make sure he would get to see it and to meet Louis. I was amazed at the new ideas and changes that Louis continued to add, even at that final rehearsal. That was nearly 30 years ago, yet the experience is strongly etched in my mind.

I am so glad that we had photographer Tom Brazil come to one of the rehearsals and capture the early stages of the piece. Later he returned and took pictures at a performance.

Rehearsing the “Purlie” step. From L to R: Loretta Abbott, Rob Danforth and Deborah Hanna.

“And Moses with his rod in hand.” From L to R: Deborah, Loretta, and Kezia

“And Pharaoh called the overseers!” From L to R: Rob, Mark, Deborah and Loretta

All three photos by Tom Brazil

Print This Post

Recent Blogs

SaveSave

We Open in Cleveland: Last-Minute Adjustments

JoAnne Tucker / July 6, 2018November 20, 2018 / "Let My People Go"

Note from Kezia: Running a dance company, particularly touring, involves a lot of last-minute surprises. JoAnne was masterful at calmly solving all sorts of challenges, as she reports . . . .

Less than twenty-four hours before we are due to board our flight to Cleveland,where the first performance of “Let My People Go” will be part of a Friday night service, I get a call from our drummer, Leopoldo. He informs me that he has bought a plane ticket for his girlfriend for our flight and she will be joining us on tour. Gulp…. Now I need to provide housing for them, as a couple, and make sure we have room in the van for eight, or two cars . . . .

To keep costs down we often had home hospitality when we were out of town. It was a bit late to ask Temple Fairmount to change the hosting arrangements, so after pacing up and down a bit and wondering what to do, I remembered that I had a second cousin who lived in Cleveland, perhaps near the temple. I put in a call and indeed he and his family lived in the neighborhood of the temple and delightedly agreed to house Leopoldo and his girlfriend. Problem solved.

Next, pack the costume bags for the performers. We were lucky that in Avodah’s costume closet (a makeshift area under steps in our finished basement) were beige jumpsuits from an earlier piece that worked perfectly for “Let My People Go.” The three women each tied a scarf at the waist to add some color. The drummer was responsible for his own outfit. “Let My People Go” was an easy show to tour since generally it was performed alone or with one or two other pieces, while a usual concert might have six different pieces and costume changes. The drummer had the challenge of packing his talking drum and other small percussion instruments. Each of the three drummers who would accompany us this first season brought a different assortment of percussion instruments along with the talking drum, adding their unique flavor… and more about that later.

Packed and ready, off we went to Cleveland. About half-way through the flight, Kezia came over to me and said she had been drafted by the other dancers to plead that they “please have ONE run-through before the performance without being stopped and without being given any additional changes.” I promised this would happen, as I realized that Louis’s imagination always saw something new to change,and even throughout our final rehearsal with him, he had continued to make lots of revisions.

And so we arrived at Temple Fairmount, greeted by Rabbi David Gelfand and Cantor Sarah Sager, in plenty of time to have our run-through. Luckily we were in a stage setting so there were no unusual adjustments of entrances or exits and I remember being very impressed with how smoothly the run-through went. I kept my promise and did not stop the flow or make any changes. I may have given a few notes, mainly positive on how well the piece went.

That evening, January 13, 1989,“Let My People Go” was premiered at Fairmount Temple in honor of Martin Luther King’s birthday. The performance went extremely well and I was so proud of how the company performed.

Deborah Hanna wrote about the first performance:

There were so many entrances and exits and lines to say and songs that we hadn’t had time to get it all under control. Our first performance was at a huge synagogue in Ohio with a marvelously large bema or stage – a great space – and expansive for all the running in and out that the piece entailed. We all had our notebooks positioned in the wings and as we dashed out for a few seconds between one exit and the next split second entrance I recall quickly reading my notes to remember where I was supposed to re-enter and as what character. The whole performance went like that. (An “Avodah Memory” from Avodah dancer Deborah Hanna, upon JoAnne’s retirement as Artistic Director, February 29, 2004)

Meanwhile, Leopoldo and his girlfriend were warmly received by my cousins, whose daughter particularly had fun with the guests. The rest of the home hospitality, provided by the Temple, also worked out.

The next morning we were off to Canton, Ohio, for both a workshop and a performance. More than 350 adults and children attended, representing both the Jewish and Black communities. The evening included the performance of “Let My People Go,” a video presentation on Israeli tributes to Dr. King, a dance workshop and a dessert reception. The whole event was free, having been funded by a grant from the Canton Jewish Community’s Federation Community Development Endowment Fund. I felt a real sense of delight in how this event was truly a community-wide interchange. I also noticed that even though it was just the beginning of a series of performances, the six dancers were becoming a family, enjoying working with each other.

What Rabbi Chuck Kroloff and I had envisioned at our meeting the previous spring was happening.

Loretta Abbott leading the workshop with children from the community.

Children get a chance to meet the performers and ask them questions.

Performers, L-R: Deborah Hanna, Rob Danforth, Loretta Abbott, Leopoldo Fleming, Kezia Gleckman Hayman

Both of these photographs are from the Stark Jewish News, February 1989 (no photo credit was given).

Print This Post

Recent Blogs

SaveSave

Bringing Groups Together: Two-Month Tour of “Let My People Go”

JoAnne Tucker / July 13, 2018November 20, 2018 / "Let My People Go"

The next two performances were in the New York area. Rodeph Sholom on Manhattan’s Upper West Side and Memorial Baptist Church of Harlem jointly featured “Let My People Go” as part of their tribute to Martin Luther King, Jr. The congregations had an ongoing cooperative relationship. The Friday night Sabbath Service found Memorial’s Pastor Preston Washington joining the Rabbis of Rodeph Sholom in leading the service, followed by the combined choirs of the Baptist Church. “Let My People Go” concluded the evening.

A week later on Saturday evening the choir of Brooklyn Heights Synagogue along with the choir of the Lafayette Avenue Presbyterian Church of Ft. Greene opened a program at St. Ann’s and the Holy Trinity Church, organized by Brooklyn Heights Synagogue (of which I was a member) under the leadership of Rabbi Richard Jacobs, a former Avodah dancer. We are fortunate that this performance of “Let My People Go” was videotaped by Randy Hayman; here is the link to watch it. When I watch the video it reminds me of the dedication of the performers and their incredible passion as they leaped, sang, and spoke James Weldon Johnson’s words.

The season included three college performances. The first was sponsored by Brandeis’s Hillel Foundation and the University itself, for Black History Month. The second was part of a Jewish Arts Festival with Black History Month in Bowker Auditorium on the campus of the University of Massachusetts in Amherst, MA. The third was sponsored by Hillel and Eracism, an anti-racism student group at the University of Pennsylvania. Two students were quoted as saying the program was part of Black History Month and that the show was aimed at improving race relations on campus. The Pennsylvania Gospel Choir performed after “Let My People Go.”

A unique collaboration in Norfolk, Virginia brought the Urban League and the Jewish Community Center together to sponsor a performance on Sunday night in the Chrysler Museum Theater. It was the first time but not the last that we performed in a Museum where security is heightened and one enters through special doors. The philosophy behind this sharing was well expressed by Mary Redd: “One of the things the Urban League is about is building bridges. So I think ofLet My People Go in terms of letting all people be free.” She went on to share in an interview published by the Virginia Pilot and Ledger Star, “The performance, which comes in the middle of Black History Month, coincides with Urban League Sunday. That’s an annual awareness day commemorating the founding of the National Urban League in 1910.” The following Monday morning the company performed at a local high school in a lively morning assembly (see the following poem by Kezia for more about the morning).

The last two performances were back in the NY area. On Saturday night in Plainfield, New Jersey, the performance was sponsored by the Association for Rehabilitation with Kindness, a joint organization of St. Mark’s Episcopal Church and Temple Emanu-El of Westfield,NJ. The organization focuses on the rehabilitation of housing. This performance was especially meaningful for me, as Rabbi Kroloff, an Avodah Board Member, was the leader of Temple Emanu-El and it was in his office that the idea to develop a program like “Let My People Go” was first discussed (See Blog 2). We were thrilled to get excellent press in the New Jersey section of The New York Times, where Barbara Gilford, having seen the performance earlier at Rodeph Sholom wrote, “The work has both substance and texture with eloquence and emotional forces suffusing spoken and movement sequences. Images and bodies seamlessly melt into one another. A vision of the Israelites in Egyptian bondage becomes a tableau of black slavery as black and Jewish voices become one cry for deliverance”(February 19, 1989).

Additional press in Newark’s Star-Ledger by Valerie Sudol included a quote by Louis Johnson: “’This was a wonderful project,’ he said of his work with Tucker. ‘The piece deals with issues that are right in front of us every day. It’s about life as it’s lived here and now, not in some remote time or place’” (February 12, 1989).

From L to R: Loretta Abbott, Deborah Hanna, and Mark Childs

Photo by Tom Brazil

The last performance of the season was on Sunday, February 26^th, at the Henry Street Settlement in their wonderful old theater. Deborah Hanna wrote of that last performance:

There was a very modest Sunday afternoon audience as I recall, but our performance was breathtaking. After this intense tour, we had arrived to such a free, creative and connected place between all of the performers that we were actually improvising new things, anticipating and working together with that magical harmony that performers live for… That priceless, beyond time and space experience that unfortunately happens so rarely in a performing career. In the end, it didn’t matter where we were or who was in front of us… that last performance was all ours. (From Avodah Memory, February 29, 2004 by Deborah Hanna).

Deborah Hanna (foreground) and Loretta Abbott

Photo by Tom Brazil

The drummer who had first begun the piece was not available and so we had two subs during the season: Eli Fontaine and Newman Taylor Baker. While Eli would occasionally join us again over the next several years, Newman became a regular Avodah touring member and incredible collaborator. More to come about Newman.

Kezia, in the March 1989 Avodah Newsletter, playfully and elegantly summarized the season and I end this Blog with her poem:

And About That Black-Jewish History Project….
IN the beginning, were doubts, we admit;
Would visions and methods and temperaments fit?
Soon the group’s gathered, and quickly we’re friends.
Just into rehearsal, surprises descend:

We’re told we must sing. “We’re just dancers,” we rant,
Cantor Mark, told to dance, cries, “I can’t; I just cant.”
(If Louis said “Fly!” he’d want wings to unfold);
Rumpelstiltskin, we need, to turn straw into gold.

En route to our premiere, we can’t help but fret;
We realize we’ve not done one full run-through yet!
They love all our dancing, the music, the text.
They don’t know we still whisper, “Help!” Which part comes next?”

For two months we travel, most weekends and more;
The dust in our homes slowly covers the floor.
Our friends rarely see us; we don’t get much rest,
But the piece grows with each show, from better to best.

We’re scheduled with choirs or questions and answers;
New groups come together in sponsoring dancers!
We hope that such links grow as fast as our piece;
(Next year, how ‘bout soul food with matzoh ball feasts?!)

A high school performance – a morning assembly –
That audience still makes us smile, remembering;
We run and we roll and we moan and we scream;
It’s the funniest thing that they ever have seen!

They not only enjoy, but they do understand,
And perhaps they see clearest the point right at hand:
If the world were just like the small crew of our show,
No one would need cry, “Let My People Go.”

Print This Post

Recent Blogs

SaveSave

More on Sisters: A Peek into the Rehearsal Studio and Some Dancers’ Reflections

JoAnne Tucker / March 29, 2019April 1, 2019 / Dance Midrash, Dances on Biblical Women

In the Summer 1992 issue of Outlook (the Women’s League for Conservative Judaism’s magazine), Kezia and I wrote an article entitled “Midrash in Motion” which shared more about our process of creating Sisters, including some of the dancers’ thoughts and conversations in the rehearsal studio.

            “Maybe Leah’s eyes were weak from crying,” Deborah suggests.
            “Maybe,” muses Kezia. I don’t think she really had weak eyes. Other people just called them weak because she was thoughtful and withdrawn, especially compared to Rachel, and sensitive in a way people would not see.”
            “Deborah, your interpretation matches a traditional midrash,” interjects JoAnne. “However, I want to focus on Rachel and Leah’s reactions when they were described as the beautiful Rachel and the weak-eyed Leah.”
            This snatch of conversations did not take place in an ordinary midrash class. Deborah Hanna and Kezia Gleckman Hayman, professional modern dancers of the Avodah Dance Ensemble, are rehearsing….
            Focusing on the initial question, two dancers improvised as [Cantor] Stone repeatedly chanted, “Rachel was beautiful, Leah had weak eyes.”  Coached by Tucker, Stone moved closer and closer to each dancer, first shouting the text in their ears, and then whispering.  The dancers reacted, their movements altered by the forceful suggestions of the intruder.  It was immediately clear that such chanting would be powerful.

Since the article was written and published several years after the piece was created, it ended with some reflections by Deborah and Kezia about performing the piece.

In mentioning the company’s community of performers, we must mention that when Sisters (and other works) toured over the years, if the original cantor could not travel with the company, exceptional local cantors occasionally agreed to take on the role in the piece – not an easy task, since it meant learning the role mainly by studying a video and then having usually only one quick rehearsal both to coordinate with the dancers and to master the staging. And staging was complicated – for everyone – because it required customizing the choreography to fit most safely and dramatically into each unique performance space, which often included features such as stairs. We are grateful to all the local cantors who performed so artistically and soulfully with us over the years, for Sisters and other company repertoire.

The form of the piece has remained substantially the same. Kezia and Deborah are still stepping into the sisters’ lives. And yet, they still ponder the meaning of Leah’s weak eyes – in discussions and in dance. In each performance, Leah discovers a new element of her feelings toward Rachel. In each performance, Rachel feels a bit differently when she chooses to reveal the secret sign, thereby surrendering her bridal veil. Each time, the cantor’svoice reveals new shades of emotion. Each time, the company’s community [of performers] creates a bond distinct from the previous performance. Each time, new midrash is created.

In 2004 when I was getting ready to leave the New York area I invited dancers and company collaborators to a Sunday afternoon gathering. I asked both those that attended and those that couldn’t make it to write an Avodah Memory. Rabbi Susan Freeman shared this one:

Besides all the laughing and intense improvising…. I often think of the awe-inspiring moments of holding a pose in “Sisters” at a synagogue in suburban Detroit – with the sanctuary in the style of an enormous tent. Any gaze extended into the “folds” of this amazing architecture. I felt so alive – spiritually, intellectually, emotionally, socially, aesthetically. It was one of those unique experiences of being wholly present – when the immediate moment becomes aligned with the eternal moment.

The performance Susan is describing took place at Temple Beth El in Bloomfield Hills, outside of Detroit. The cantor’s role there was beautifully performed by Cantor Gail Hirschenfang. With a satisfying sense of life’s circles, Kezia is delighted to note that Cantor Hirschenfang is now the cantor of the temple to which Kezia belongs in Poughkeepsie.

The photograph of the building’s outside is by Rob Yallop from the website MichiganModern.org. A photo of the soaring inside of the temple, with the “folds” described by Susan, can be found at the following link.

Here is a link to see a video of the first performance of Sisters.

Print This Post

Rehearsals Begin for Binding

JoAnne Tucker / April 12, 2019April 12, 2019 / Dance Midrash, New York Company

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.

Print This Post

Guest Post By Deborah Hanna: A Response to Remembering Louis Johnson

JoAnne Tucker / May 15, 2020May 16, 2020 / "Let My People Go", Guest Posts

Last month, eleven of us gathered together on a Zoom call to remember choreographer Louis Johnson who had passed away on March 31. (April 10th obituary in NYTimes) We all had some kind of connection to Louis, and most of us had worked with him on “Let My People Go.” We covered a number of time zones and different countries from Italy to Costa Rica to the US (from NYC to CA). The next morning we received this beautiful email from Deborah Hanna. I asked her if I could share it as a guest blog.

Bio of our Guest Blogger:

Deborah Lynn Hanna grew up in Charleston, West Virginia as a sports lover – playing basketball, swimming and riding horses competitively. This love of movement transformed into modern dance, and she graduated with a BA in Humanities from Stetson University in Deland, Florida, earning “The Most Outstanding Humanities Student” Award in 1981 and 1982. Next step: New York City and the Martha Graham School of Contemporary Dance where she worked and studied for 5 years, achieving her 3^rd year Trainee Program Diploma at the Advanced Level, while acting as Coordinator for the Martha Graham Ensemble and dancing with the Ensemble for 3 years in the annual revival pieces of “Primitive Mysteries,” “Steps in the Street” and “Celebration.” Primarily, Deborah grew as a performer with The Avodah Dance Ensemble from 1987-1992 in its 15-piece repertoire, dancing and giving workshops in all parts of the US. She then moved to Italy with her Italian husband and began teaching the Martha Graham Technique and choreographing, as well as teaching English as a Second Language. In 2013, the latter work took Deborah and her husband to Myanmar for 7 years, where she taught English and dance, and also performed in interesting, but unlikely venues. In July 2019 Deborah and her husband returned to their family property in Tarquinia, Italy and are in the midst of creating a holistic center for Cultural and the Healing Arts.

Guest Blog by Deborah Hanna

I woke up this morning (a few hours later actually, with our time difference here), remembering pieces of our conversations, your faces, my thoughts and reflections, and most importantly, a profound sense of love… love for the beauty and uniqueness of what was shared, along with such awe and respect for the amazing talent and achievements represented on that tiny screen – everyone in their homes, sort of a humbling and very human factor, that gives us an equal voice at the table as human beings, as we all walk through this unique period of history together…. with a glance backwards towards another era.

My first consideration, as we all expressed last night, was the unifying force of JoAnne, her creative vision for Avodah and the ever-changing landscape of her choreography (of which we all played integral roles in the creation of movement), the beauty of so many diverse collaborations, performance arenas, teaching workshops, cities, towns and even countries, and the continual unexpected, which made every performance and new work exciting. This is an amazing accomplishment, JoAnne – one that gave so much to so many of us as artists, not to mention the audiences and workshop participants. The other beautiful quality of Avodah was the bond of friendship and healthy spirit of collaboration that existed amongst us… a very rare quality in the NYC dance scene – at least coming from the Martha Graham Dance Company perspective. Last night, after we listened to Candice’s memory of getting lost in a piece of Avodah choreography and JoAnne being amused as to how she and the rest of us would figure our ways out of these tight spots, Kezia brought up a similar moment for me, with the Graham work Celebration.

Deborah Hanna in the studio in a Graham movement.

During one City Center performance of the first reconstruction of Celebration (464 jumps in 6 minutes), as I was beating out a 64-count phrase, I became lost in imagery that Martha herself had given to us during one of the last rehearsals. I simply departed on my next jump series 8 counts too soon – alone, instead of with another 5 dancers. I remember being out in the middle of that big City Center stage, feeling all of the responsibility that comes with representing Graham in that arena, and thinking to myself, “Okay, Deb, you’re here…. just keep jumping until the others arrive and keep the image of light pouring down, so no one can see in your eyes that you screwed up royally.” I was the only one moving on the stage at that moment in an intricately choreographed Graham piece, where every single second was carved to perfection. Just in that moment, a quite accomplished dance reviewer snapped my photo, which only made matters worse! Eight counts later, the other dancers arrived and we finished the piece successfully. The next day, the dance review and photo were sitting on my dressing room table, with all of the other Ensemble members gathered round. To my mind, I had successfully come out of an error and actually done really well. Naturally, Yuriko (the director of the Ensemble) didn’t agree! She stomped into the dressing room – her tiny but powerful stature steaming, venom flowing from her eyes. I felt this ancient Samurai power about to unfurl …. she was furious and said that if I ever did anything like that again, I was out of the Ensemble! There was no chance to explain, no excuses!

Only recently, after having lived in South East Asia for 7 years and having worked with many Japanese, getting to know them and their culture, I can now understand her reaction, but at the time, it was very foreign – especially for a West Virginia hillbilly like myself. Yuriko was deeply dedicated to the integrity and accuracy of Martha’s work, above all else…. and that was the atmosphere of the Graham World. Our rehearsals with Yuriko were very much akin to being in the military, I imagined… for all the greatness and perils that those worlds offer.

So, from there to Avodah…..After I’d finished my first season at City Center with the Martha Graham Ensemble in the reconstructions of Celebration and Primitive Mysteries, Yuriko was interested in having me come to rehearsals and integrate into the permanent Martha Graham Ensemble ( which I had helped cultivate into a full-time second company, having been the booking coordinator – a role I developed as a work-study student, in order to pay for my own classes). It was one of those monumental life crossroads for me. I had just gotten into Avodah simultaneously, during the Graham NY City Center season in 1987, and had to make a decision of which road to travel. I looked at the long line of extraordinary dancers fighting tooth and nail to get into Graham, and fortunately I had the good sense to choose Avodah, where I could be a “little star” in a very healthy, satisfying dance company. And that decision has made all of the difference!

At the end of my intense years both training with Graham and working on her reconstruction works, then the immensely diverse experiences performing in so many roles with Avodah, I felt deeply satisfied as a dance performer and was ready for the next step…. which just happened to be Italy via India…. dance being a constant companion throughout…but in extraordinarily unique settings, far from my NYC days.

I know that Louis would be very pleased to know that he was responsible for helping unite all of us in a little gem of a work that he and JoAnne created…. “Let My People Go!” It was one of my very favorite pieces in the Avodah repertoire because it gave us the chance to do so much – act, sing, dance different styles and change up pace so quickly that you were always on your toes. I learnt this great lesson on the art of choreographing from Louis…the grave importance of changing pace, dynamics, styles, directions, rhythms and energy. That lesson is monumental!

I’ll finish off this rather indulgent email (only in these times is this kind of epistle really possible – to write and perhaps even to be read) with how “Let My People Go” started on its first debut, to its final performance of the first season run. Our “virgin” performance was on a notably long, and rather narrow bema in Ohio, where we left notes on stage right and left as we exited, in order to remember where and when we entered and what we had to do….. to the last performance for that season, at Henry Street Settlement – 15 performances later – all done in less than a 2-month period.

That final Sunday afternoon matinee performance at Henry Street was a humble, but magical one! It was raining, I believe, and a rather gloomy Sunday afternoon, so there was hardly any audience and I don’t think Louis was present. But we were there, a now seasoned first cast, having worked together so hard and intensively, travelling for almost 6 weeks – planes, cars, hotels, restaurants, snow storms, missing cast members, dead deer, interesting hosts…. and so, we were seasoned in many ways…. enough so, that the final performance was truly a spiritual experience. We now knew the piece — and each other — very well, and on that stage at Henry Street Settlement, where the project had begun, something extraordinary happened. Every one of us began spontaneously to expand a little on our roles, sing an extra note, give an added expression, leap a little higher, or add an arm for emphasis. I remember watching Kezia, Newman, Loretta, Mark and Rob in between my own entrances, and so enjoying and appreciating their spontaneity and creativity. But above all, there was this amazing, tangible feeling between us – a sort of deep flow and understanding beyond words, of being united by vibrations – those invisible threads that bind us to the core. For me, that last run of “Let My People Go” was the essence and highest level of performance…….collective, joyful, fun and pure creativity in the moment.

Deborah in the performance at Henry St. of *Let My People Go.*
Behind her is Loretta Abbott and drummer Leopoldo Fleming. Photo by Tom Brazil.

Seeds for a Later Tour – Visiting a Former Avodah Dancer in Italy

JoAnne Tucker / March 8, 2021 / Personal Life, Touring

For seven years Deborah Hanna was a part of The Avodah Dance Ensemble. If you skim through the blogs of Mostly Dance you will see lots of pictures of her, as she played a key role in collaborating on pieces that became an important part of Avodah’s repertory. In particular, Deborah was in the original cast of Let My People Go, and she and Kezia collaborated on Sisters. At some point, I shared her with the Martha Graham Ensemble and loved how well trained she was in Graham technique, which I totally adored! When she decided it was time to leave the company and move to Italy with her husband I was both sad to see her go and also excited for her new adventure. We might even have joked a bit about Avodah coming to Italy, as she did not intend to stop dancing.

Two years later, in 1995, I saw Deborah on a trip to Italy. My husband, Murray, had a business trip to Rome, related to his job as economist with the IRS. I was able to go with him and we decided to travel a few days early so we could spend some time visiting Deborah.

A day or two after arriving in Rome, Murray and I took the hour-and-a-half train ride to Tarquinia, where Deborah and her husband, Jeevan, were living. Tarquinia is an old city in the province of Viterbo, Lazio, known mainly for its ancient Etruscan tombs. We stayed in their sweet country cottage and loved going sightseeing in the area with them. Tarquinia is Jeevan’s hometown and his family owned a wonderful restaurant there.

Top Picture: Deborah and I have fun posing at one of the Etruscan Tombs.
Lower Picture: Deborah and Jeevan, Murray and I, enjoying being together.

Deborah had begun to teach dance shortly after she arrived in Italy in February of 1993. She taught Graham technique and choreographed for the end-of-the-year concerts in her local community. Deborah shared with me that “The Graham Technique made a big hit as quite a novelty and the first piece I did for them to the music of Carmina Burana received a loud “ANCORA” from the audience – which I just took as a wonderful sign of appreciation, but quickly found out meant we had to repeat the piece again immediately – which we did.”

Deborah choreographed for this group of dancers when she first arrived in 1993.

By the time of our visit with Deborah she had not only continued teaching but had expanded with in-school performances and workshops in the local grade schools and middle schools and had won best choreography awards at the Viterbo Dance Festival.

Before we left Italy Deborah joined us in Rome and ended up going out to dinner with us and charming some of Murray’s business colleagues with her excellent Italian. We talked about projects between Avodah and Italy, and the seeds were planted for what would happen several years later.

Print This Post

Performance in Pitigliano

JoAnne Tucker / April 19, 2021 / Touring

Continuing the blog entries on my international work, I flew from Israel back to Italy, and Kezia arrived there from the U.S., and so rehearsals began in earnest for the upcoming performance for the Pitigliano Festival of Jewish Film and Culture.

In the February 2000 Avodah Newsletter, Kezia reported:

Our trip to Italy came about in great part through the extensive organizing efforts of former Avodah dancer and dear friend Deborah Hanna Leoni, who had been living in Italy (and teaching dance there) since 1992. It was Deborah and two of her delightful advanced students whom I joined to form Avodah’s Italian company. Deborah and her husband Jeevan generously housed JoAnne and me in their country cottage in the very beautiful Tuscan village of Tarquinia, a center of ancient Etruscan life, about 45 minutes from Rome and 15 minutes from the Mediterranean Sea. With stone streets and buildings tinted in warm fresco shades of gold and orange and green with castle-like wooden doors, Tarquinia is a hill town with an expansive view of velvety green countryside. For people who teach, as we do, I believe it is a good reminder to return periodically to being a beginning-level student of anything – to remember just how bare – and frustrating – beginning knowledge is. Since neither JoAnne nor I speak Italian, we had a good dose of “beginnership,” but we found that people determined to find a common understanding are reassuringly able to do so.

We also figured out puzzling light switches, door latches and toilet mechanics, learned to wash dishes using the least possible amount of water (start with that handy pot of water left from boiling pasta) and functioned for periods (common) when the water was turned off or the electric was out. (The cottage was perfectly and appropriately lovely in candlelight.) Our Italian alarm clock each morning was the gunshot chorus of local men hunting for small birds on the property. We deciphered money and purchased groceries (everything FRESH), ate pine nuts from the ground and gourmet mushrooms picked by Jeevan’s family, and watch his mother make us homemade gnocchi. We learned that, like nearly everything else in life, there is a skill to hanging wash on a clothesline – and we did not have it. We were made sharply aware of how luxuriously we usually live, particularly in terms of the use of water, electric and gas, and I felt downright wealthy when I returned home and was able to wash and dry all my clothes at the laundromat. We learned that in Italy, concepts of “efficient” and “businesslike” do not exist as we know them in New York; “casual,” “social” and “personal” are the critical elements of life, as is “generous.” And they do make for a charming, if drastically different, life. For a high school workshop, the students each contributed a sum toward our booking, and we were paid with an envelope of small bills and coins, like the collections I remember for elementary school “milk money.” I – who am still surprised each time JoAnne pays me for dancing – have never felt such a direct connection between my work and my pay.

From JoAnne’s scrapbook: Scenes from Deborah and Jeevan’s land.

The theatre in Pitigliano had a historic feel to it. The stage was just large enough but it did present a bit of a challenge as it was a raked stage (meaning that it sloped upward away from the audience). Fortunately the dancers were able to adjust quite quickly.

Back entrance to the theatre where we performed

The performance consisted of six pieces, and one of them was created for this special event. Entitled Generations,it was inspired by the Hebrew phrase “L’dor V’dor” (“from generation to generation”) and focused on the Jewish woman’s role of carrying on tradition. In seeing a video of the piece, I wasn’t sure at all what I was really trying to say. How I was able to watch a video of the piece was an interesting story in itself. Deborah reminded me that there was a video of the performance and thought that Kezia had a copy of it. It was a VHS which is very outdated and most of us no longer have VCR machines that can play such tapes. Kezia however does still have a VCR, but she doesn’t have the means to transfer a VHS into a format such as an mp4 which would be easy to send over the Internet. So, resourcefully, Kezia played the video on her VCR and filmed it on her phone and sent it to me.

Screenshot of the piece Generations. Kezia is on the floor and Deborah is behind her. In the background are our Italian company members Sylvia Manciani and Anna Compagnucci (two of Deborah’s advanced students at the time).

The other pieces were: Hallelu – a setting of the 150^th Psalm; Negro Spirituals – four solos from Helen Tamiris’s work (danced by Kezia) which had been reconstructed by Elizabeth McPherson from the Labanotated score; M’Chamocha – a piece celebrating the crossing of the Red Sea; Kaddish – a work set to 8 minutes from Leonard Bernstein’s Kaddish symphony, and Shema – a setting of Primo Levi’s writing. Search this blog site for entries describing some of these pieces more fully. In the Avodah Newsletter Kezia described performing Shema:

Most memorable in this performance was the inclusion of our repertory work Shema based on the writings of Italian Holocaust survivor Primo Levi. JoAnne insisted on performing this work, defying suggestions that Italian dance audiences prefer lighter pieces. In Shema the dancers speak excerpts from the writings of Primo Levi. In this performance the text was recited (by our Italian actress, Elisabetta Irrera) in its original Italian. The impact upon the audience was powerful, earning the longest applause of the program.

Deborah Hanna in Shema, with Elisabetta Irrera (the Italian actress who spoke the text in Italian) behind her.

Curtain call following the last piece, Kaddish.

Print This Post