Louis Johnson - Mostly Dance

A Special Visit with Louis Johnson

JoAnne Tucker / September 7, 2018November 20, 2018 / "Let My People Go"

It was exciting to be contacted in 2015 by a filmmaker doing a documentary on Louis called Up in the Air. We had several phone conversations and he let me know that Louis was doing well and living in the Amsterdam Nursing Home, across the street from St. John the Divine in New York City. Louis had told him about Let My People Go and he wanted some more information. Learning where Louis was, I resolved that I would go and visit him on my next trip to New York City. I let other Let My People Go cast members know that I would be visiting Louis and invited them to join me if they were able. So on a Friday afternoon in September of 2015, Newman Taylor Baker, Loretta Abbott and I had a wonderful visit with Louis.

One of the first things Louis asked was, “How is that little girl who did the article on me doing?” And he said how much he loved that article. Here’s what he was referring to.

______________________________

From Avodah Newsletter, February 1999 (by Kezia Gleckman Hayman)

INSIDE VIEW: AN APPRECIATION OF LOUIS JOHNSON, CHOREOGRAPHER

Avodah’s newest piece is Make a Change, co-choreographed by Louis Johnson and JoAnne Tucker. Ten years ago, this pair created Let My People Go, and it was my lucky privilege to be part of the original cast. JoAnne and Louis equally have shaped both these pieces, but for my limited purpose here (and with JoAnne’s encouragement), I have temporarily cropped the picture to include only Louis. Choreographers can sometimes adapt their working styles to suit each particular forum or group of performers; I have not had the fun of observing Louis in any of his other extensive and varied professional encounters, but please allow me to share an insider’s fond view of Louis Johnson as choreographer for Avodah. –KGH-

“It still works,” says Louis, sounding amazed each time he attends a performance of Let My People Go. His bewilderment would surprise anyone hearing him, because it is his own work about which he speaks. But then Louis is a modest guy. The community member chatting and laughing with Louis recently at Snug Harbor, and being praised for his gusto as a community performer with us, might have known that Louis is the Director of Dance at the historic Henry Street Settlement in New York City, but our conversationalist probably had little idea that he was talking to an artist who regularly sets pieces on the Dance Theatre of Harlem, Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater and other dance companies of similar distinction. Could he guess that Aretha Franklin counts on Louis to stage her shows or that Michael Jackson does Louis’s moves in the movie The Wiz? Would he know that Louis was a pioneering African American male dancer to appear with the New York City Ballet in Jerome Robbins’s Ballade and on Broadway in Damn Yankees (choreographed by Bob Fosse)? No. Because Louis never boasts about his accomplishments, never “name drops,” never even volunteers information about his work. When Louis is talking to you, child or adult, his focus is entirely on you, whether he’s hearing about other work you’ve done or he’s worrying that you’re not wearing a winter hat. This complete attention to the present moment – this “commitment” – is precisely what Louis expects from his dancers and what makes Let My People Go“still work” after 10 years.

A young Louis Johnson in performance (note the arms and head!). Photo from http://iforcolor.org/louis-johnson/. (Photo did not appear with original Newsletter article; it has been added for this blog.)

The late choreographer Antony Tudor observed wistfully, about the generation of dancers who came after the early casts of his dramatic ballets, that the trouble was, one could hardly find “bad dancers” anymore. What he meant, Louis would understand. Neither, obviously, would want untalented dancers, but a Tudor ballet is not about how high a ballerina can fling her leg or how many times a male dancer can spin in a pirouette. Louis, I confess, has a weak spot for high kicks and multiple turns, fast feet and gymnastic feats, but he doesn’t tolerate any of that if there isn’t passion behind it. And more important, he can shape the proper intent, context and force that can make a low leg appear as spectacular as a high kick. Louis preaches sincerity, whirlwind energy, rhythm and dynamics, theatricality. He can demonstrate it, too. Belying his generously round appearance, Louis can explode from his seat and execute movement with a terrific quickness of feet, a piercing sharpness of focus, a beauty of timing and a ham-it-up grin that is incomparably endearing.

You can get a whole education in theatricality by watching Louis work. Whether it’s a small detail of pacing or spacing, an adjustment of focus, the insertion of a “trick” to make the audience smile – every tiny bit of molding makes a significant change for the audience’s eye. Louis may indeed be concerned with the guts of his dancers, but he is simultaneously able to view the packaging through super-sensitive internal opera glasses that transform him into an audience member seeing the piece for the first time. Allow me to share a glimpse of the way this approach actually presents itself in rehearsal, however.

Unlike some choreographers who enter the studio with a complete set of steps that the dancers are to reproduce, Louis does not. Unlike his co-choreographer JoAnne, who expects her dancers to collaborate in creating movement but who nonetheless enters the studio with a fairly clear structure and movement assignments to be fulfilled, Louis does not. Louis enters the studio, dedicates himself to the current rehearsal (he has invariably raced over from some other consuming appointment) and proceeds to balance himself at a point hanging between that audience’s eye and the soul of the piece. This most delicate perch is characterized outwardly by a faraway squint and substantial stretches of silence. Then there is quite a bit of vague blocking, during which dancers plot out designated spots like human chess pieces, usually with the assurance, “Don’t worry about how you’re going to get there.” Then Louis points to one dancer and directs, “Do some kind of big leap thing down to this corner.” The dancer, new to working with Louis, and having only one second to think, does a lovely traditional grand jeté across the floor. “It’s not BALLET class,” Louis booms. “Give it some dynamics! Get your arms UP! Look up! (He demonstrates strikingly.) Do it again, please.” Dancer goes back and does a magnificent, electrifying grand jeté with non-ballet arms.

This arm business is a signature trick of Louis’s, I’ve found. Louis is actually fond of ballet vocabulary, but his means of conquering its sometimes academic effect is to use the arms and head in an upward shout of exultant energy. This is so characteristic of Louis’s work that when I came into a rehearsal for Make a Change recently, I found Tanya, a dancer who at that point had only rehearsed with Louis a few times, reviewing material with another dancer and reminding, ”That leap is with Louis arms.”

But back to our modified ballerina who has just done the spectacular leap. “Gooood . . . that’s good” Louis murmurs. Pause. Long squint. Long pause. “Can you do that again and play a trumpet at the top of the leap?”

I am kidding about the trumpet. But the essence is accurate. Added to the first simple request, just when the dancer might be caught off-guard by Louis’s reassuring hum of “Good,” comes a challenge to do something the person has possibly never done before and probably never expected to do on a stage. Working with Louis, you learn to revel in the quick laugh of shock and then “go for it.” Trust is indispensable in this process.

After the “trumpet” scene will follow the putting together of one small phrase of non-stop, nearly frenzied movement. It will be triple-high energy and slightly flashy, and we will repeat it endlessly as Louis squints and refines details. The next day we will not be able to walk up stairs or sit down. At the end of the 2-1/2 hour rehearsal, when some choreographers would have set at least five minutes of constant movement, we have the dance equivalent of the 100-meter dash and lots of walking around. Are we worried? Not a bit. Besides appreciating the luxury of not being pressured to learn excessive material quickly, anyone who has worked with Louis has come to trust him entirely; by the performance (though perhaps not much before), we’ll have a finished piece, and it will all work theatrically. At the next rehearsal, Louis will claim, in partial truth, not to remember most of what was set. But at the change of one detail, he’ll cry out, “Didn’t you twirl that trumpet when you picked it up last time?”

Rehearsals will continue, a bit muddled, with thinking periods, and lots of squinting, and refreshing laughter, and eventually, almost magically, there will be a full piece. The completion of this stage is like the magic button on the pinball machine. Louis is catapulted to the “polishing” stage. Suddenly he is like a firecracker or the embodiment of an exclamation point, his arms shooting out right, left, up, as his voice punctuates, “Bop! Vap! MOVE, people. Make us love you!” And here we are at the core. Louis is not a choreographer enmeshed in movement studies. His choreography sets out to communicate. His movements speak.

Sometimes this means, for example, that the male dancer in Let My People Go must convincingly convey with his movements the panic of a slave trying to escape. But this is a basic example – even when powerfully done, it is only a generation or two beyond mime. The unique force of Louis’s choreography is that even when movement appears to be eons removed from gesture, it still speaks. In his movements, Louis captures the rhythms, the inflections, the pauses and overlaps, humor, compassion, confusion and speed of human conversation. When he tells a dancer, “Sell it! Take your moment,” he is reminding the dancer that for that brief paragraph of movement, he or she is the one having the most intense conversation with the audience. “Your movements have to SAY something,” Louis insists. The script is in the movements he has choreographed. But it is ultimately Louis’s gift as a director that clinches his talent as a choreographer, because it is through his extraordinary coaching that his dancers are brought to eloquent delivery of those lines.

Always, ultimately, the product is an entertaining presentation with an urgent soul. Yes, Louis can put on a gruff voice and say sternly, “People, don’t talk while I’m talking,” as we try occasionally to interpret pointed instructions that are in utter conflict with other pointed instructions. But five minutes later, he’ll say pseudo-confidentially, “You’ve got to let dancers solve these problems themselves – you know, dancers are smart.” And ten minutes later, this man of renown in the world of dance and theater will turn to his cast and with quiet seriousness ask each member, “Do you think this is working?”

Yes, Louis, it’s working. Ten years from now it will still work.

______________________________

Now back to the 2015 visit. We had planned to have lunch together and since Louis is wheelchair bound, I thought we would be able to find a place in the neighborhood. But that wasn’t what Louis had in mind. He definitely wanted to go to a restaurant that was a cab ride away on West 125^thStreet, a favorite of his, and just like when creating Let My People Go, there was no way to say “NO” to Louis. So with instructions from staff at the Nursing Home, off Newman, Loretta and I went. Our first challenge was finding a taxi that would accept a wheel chair. Finally one stopped for us and it was with incredible determination that Louis was able to move himself from the chair to the cab’s seat. The driver was quite wonderful and told us how to call for a van cab where Louis would be able to stay in his chair. We did that after lunch and it made it so much easier for him. It was indeed a very special lunch and I am so glad to have this picture of us taken at the restaurant.

From L to R: Newman Taylor Baker, Loretta Abbott, Louis Johnson, JoAnne Tucker.

I had no idea that would be the last time I would see Loretta. Several months later she had a stroke. For a short while she was at the same nursing home as Louis (where she played the piano daily) before returning to live on her own. A true theatre person, she was already involved in rehearsals for a new production when she passed away on June 5, 2016. Kezia was able to get to a memorial held for her at George Faison’s Firehouse Theater, the very place where she had been rehearsing the new work. Later we would have our very own small and intimate gathering, put together for us by Jeannine Otis at St. Mark’s Church in New York in October 2016. Here we are gathered around Loretta’s picture. Missing from the photo is Beth Millstein Wish who had joined us earlier.

From L to R: Kezia Gleckman Hayman, Newman Taylor Baker, Larry Marshall, JoAnne Tucker and Jeannine Otis.

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Recent Blogs

Remembering Louis Johnson

JoAnne Tucker / April 3, 2020April 10, 2020 / "Let My People Go", Dance History, New York Company, Personal Life

Our “Let My People Go” cast members of The Avodah Dance Ensemble are like a family. There is a special closeness, especially among those of us who worked directly with Louis. So it felt quite natural that the way I would hear about Louis’s passing this past Tuesday, March 31, was to get a message from Christopher Hemmans, who danced in “Let My People Go” while a student at Juilliard. He shared this notice, and a little later I got a text message from Freddie Moore, sharing the same link.

I am filled with so many warm memories of my collaboration and friendship with Louis and feel so blessed that he was an important part of my dance history. I have written many blogs about the collaboration, from the first blog of Mostly Dance (on June 1, 2018) to a most meaningful one on September 7, 2018 describing the last meeting I had with Louis. Kezia so beautifully wrote of Louis in 1999, and that is a part of the September 7^th blog too. I encourage you to check it out along with all the other blogs from June 1 to September 7, 2018.

We are living in such a strange time with so many deaths that I fear that Louis’s passing will go without the proper honoring that he deserves. When Loretta Abbott passed we had a small but very special meeting together at St. Mark’s church hosted by Jeannine Otis. Now it looks like the way we can gather together is via a ZOOM meeting. So I am suggesting to our Avodah family that we do a ZOOM meeting to share our favorite memories of Louis. How about if we plan on doing that after Passover and Easter… on Tuesday, April 21^st, the time to be determined by who wants to participate. Please leave a comment on the blog, or email me directly at jotuc122@gmail.com if you would like to participate.

JoAnne and Louis
Picture taken by Tommy Scott

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.

Artists’ Memories and Managing Dance and Music Now

JoAnne Tucker / May 29, 2020 / "Let My People Go", Current Dance Events

Reflecting back on the April 21^st telephone call when 11 of us gathered on Zoom to remember choreographer Louis Johnson who died on March 31, I am struck by two main areas I want to write about: memories I had not heard before, related to Louis Johnson and Let My People Go; and ways the participants are continuing with their work during the pandemic.

While lots of memories were shared, many of which I have written about in earlier blogs, these are a few new ones.

Cantor Mark Childs shared what it meant to go down to Henry St. Settlement House where rehearsals and a performance of Let My People Go were held. That was a place where his grandparents and great-grandparents went, and he said it was “such a special experience in my heart” to be able to be there.

Elizabeth McPherson taught at Henry St., where Louis was head of the dance program. Louis was known for his high standards and even had the same high standards for 4-year-olds as for professional dancers. Getting ready for a performance involving students, Louis was yelling at a 4-year-old boy to go to his right. The child wasn’t understanding, so Elizabeth explained to Louis that “4-year-olds don’t know their left from their right.” Louis threw up his arms and said, “You teach them.” Elizabeth did that gladly, telling the young boy to go toward the window.

Freddie Moore shared how meaningful it was to have a chance to work with Louis directly in the Avodah projects because when Freddie was a certificate student at Ailey, the historian Joe Nash would bring Louis in regularly to the dance history class and Louis was such a kind, sweet spirit and always passionate about whatever he was doing.

Jeannine Otis reminded us that when Louis would see her, years after she had performed the cantor’s role in Let My People Go, he would shout out, “There’s the black cantor!!”

As our gathering continued I asked each person to share what they were doing now. Part of each person’s sharing was how they were coping with COVID – 19.

Elizabeth McPherson, Director of the Dance Division and Coordinator of the MFA in Dance at Montclair State University, reported that they have a program with 120 undergraduates and 14 graduates. She has published two books and is now working on a book on Helen Tamiris. She also shared that she was just reading a Master’s Thesis Project that quotes Freddie Moore. ( A common element to our gathering was the intersecting paths that we all have in each other’s lives.) Elizabeth is in current discussions with the dean about changes that the college President may make for the fall semester (including perhaps starting the semester in October, having everyone wear masks, and having students alternate weeks on campus so classes would be smaller and students would have more space between them). Currently she is reviewing video auditions of students for the freshman class. She loved one creative video where the student did the barre in her kitchen, petit allegro in her living room and grand allegro in the street.

Beth Millstein is a psychotherapist and now seeing patients on Zoom and hearing their experiences of how they are handling staying at home. She is taking dance classes on Zoom and performs once or twice a year.

Jeannine is as busy as ever as Music Director at St. Mark’s Church in Manhattan. Now with the pandemic she is working from home and doing online services. Each week she and her partner Larry feel like they are producing a radio show, finding the location, setting up the keyboard and doing the service from home. She is also involved with Theatre for Social Change, working with kids, and her book A Gathering has been turned into a theatre piece.

Kezia Gleckman Hayman is still doing administrative work at the same law firm she joined when she joined Avodah. She is currently busy working from home, while keeping an eye on her 12-year-old son, who is also attending school remotely and trying to sneak in video games simultaneously. She takes adult ballet classes (now Zoom) with Kathy McDonald, who was in Avodah’s first New York company. Kezia has recently joined some of her adult classmates in studying pointe, 33 years after she last performed in toe shoes.

Kezia trying her new pointe shoes in her Zoom dance studio — her small kitchen.

Freddie Moore has been at Ailey for 35 years now. A graduate of the Certificate Program and dancer with Ailey II, he has also had his own company, Footprints Dance Company, for 30 years. For the past eight years he has been running the Certificate Program and is Rehearsal Director of the Ailey student group, preparing juniors and seniors for performance. In addition he works with churches all over the world, building liturgical dance ministries. He is also raising two of his granddaughters, ages 6 and 8. Right now he is challenged by home schooling and live Zoom classes. In April when we were talking he was planning a graduation program for Ailey.

Deborah Hanna has just moved back to Italy after 7 years in South East Asia where she taught English and some dance. One experience she shared was introducing Martha Graham to a community in Myanmar that had no idea what modern dance was, let alone the Graham technique. Now in Italy she and her husband are working on family property to create a holistic art and cultural center. She can be found having coffee with three chickens, chopping down a tree and painting fences. She hopes once the pandemic is over we will come and visit.

Deborah (looking like a Graham performer, says Kezia) working on the family property in Italy during COVID 19.

Candice Franklin has been teaching with the Joffrey Ballet since 2007. She was caught right as the pandemic began to lock down things in the US when she was on tour holding auditions for the Joffrey Ballet. One day they had a room full of eager dancers and the next day there were just two dancers. She got on a plane in Kansas to return to NYC. She is doing a lot of teaching on Zoom and she finds it much harder to teach on Zoom then when it is a live class. She has to prepare extra carefully and really focus to get everything done in the hour. She had been training to teach ballroom dance. But that will need to be on hold, although someone in our Zoom group suggested using a broomstick for a partner!!

Newman shared that he had a gig on March 6^th at the Folk Museum in NYC with a hundred people attending, and just 5 days later he had a gig in Brooklyn with only 2 people attending. He pointed out that he has spent a lot of his life not knowing where the next gig is, but now the whole world doesn’t know where the next gig is. He is particularly focusing on how to perform on the Internet. His whole experience has been with live audiences and the Internet is a totally different experience, which he doesn’t like. He knows he has to change and he is particularly inspired by Yo Yo Ma, who in Newman’s words, “gets to the same place” when performing on the Internet as when performing with a live audience. Newman is working to reach that point as well. Newman also shared his new instrument – the washboard. He came to it by accident when he was substituting for another musician. Changing the way the previous musician played it, Newman puts the washboard in his lap and plays it with shotgun shells covering 4 fingers on each hand, which creates a totally different sound. Playing the washboard has also led him to explore his family history, particularly his paternal grandfather who was born a slave and went on to earn a Ph.D. in Philosophy from Yale in 1903.

Newman noted something important for all of us to keep in mind. After 9/11 most of the places he used to play as a musician were gone. It took a year until people went out again. Newman concluded by saying we will all have to do what jazz musicians do — improvise.

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