Tag: Newman Taylor Baker

A Performance Etched in all of our Memories

JoAnne Tucker / / "Let My People Go"

For 10 years “Let My People Go” played an important role in Avodah’s repertory.  One community after another put together dynamic programs forging new relationships or strengthening ongoing collaborations. In this blog I want to share memories of a Chicago  performance that stands out in my mind.  When I am with any of the performers who took part on Sunday, February 18, 1990, they often speak of how they remember it, too.

To begin with, this new season saw Newman Taylor Baker become a regular touring member.  Kezia wrote a wonderful salute to Newman in an early 1990s Avodah Newsletter:

Newman Baker…. brings inspiring talent and extensive credentials. His bio states only that he performs with Henry Threadgill, Reggie Workman and Abdullah Ibrahim; he studied music at Virginia State University and East Carolina University, and he has taught in the public schools and at college level.  But he also has patented and hopes to market a clever contraption which prevents a drum set from sliding on the floor while being played, has traveled regularly throughout the world and is a rich resource for information on the music and customs of many cultures. …. Newman’s impish smile can turn any crisis into just enough of a joke to be manageable, and we cheer as we hear the approach of the Indian bell which is always tied to his luggage.  Leaving his drum set and other jazz treasures at home, Newman has scored our piece with a collection of instruments which fascinates audiences and cast alike.  In our spare moments (with Newman’s generous permission), we are drawn to examine the shells, gourds, bells, whistles and other music-makers which click-clack, rattle, knock, jingle, whine and “boing” magically in Newman’s orchestration.  There is always excitement when we discover Newman has brought a new toy for his symphony, and we take turns trying to kidnap our favorite item, his giant rain stick, which sifts seeds and sands in a soothing whisper.  Newman’s most vocal instrument is his talking drum, which played by him speaks most eloquently; we heard with awe that this drum speaks the actual tonal language of certain African tribes.  Although Newman, always humble, prefers to appear a quiet character behind his instruments, we value his professional judgment (which we seek out) and his tales of travel, and he adds much pleasure to our trips.

Newman with his blanket of instruments  (Photo by Tom Scott)

and with an excited young audience member (photo by Kezia Gleckman Hayman).

Also new for the season was Christopher Hemmans.  When Rob wasn’t available to tour I called my good friend Linda Kent, a member of Juilliard’s dance faculty, to ask her if she knew of a student who would be right for “Let My People Go.”  She highly recommended Christopher and he quickly learned the part.  My first vivid memory of the unforgettable trip was when the plane took off and I heard a scream from the seat behind me — and then Loretta saying calmly to Christopher that everything would be all right.  We learned that this was the first time that Staten Island-native Christopher had ever been in a plane.  When we landed in Midway airport in Chicago several young boys were totally fascinated with the tall athletic Christopher, sure he was a famous basketball player.  Today Christopher lives in Germany where he teaches Yoga and regularly performs in Broadway shows.  To learn more about Christopher here’s a link to a blog written in 2013 with an impressive list of the shows he has appeared in.

Mark Childs was really looking forward to this performance at KAM Isaiah Israel Congregation in Chicago because Max Janowski, a leading composer of 20thcentury Jewish music and composer of some of the most famous modern synagogue music, was Director of Music at KAM. KAM has a long and distinguished history as one of the founding congregations in 1874 of the Union for American Hebrew Congregations now known as the Union for Reform Judaism. They also had an outstanding reputation for their commitment to social justice.

Arriving in the Hyde Park area of Chicago, we found the housing was particularly elegant. The day before the performance we were taken to a lovely lunch by Mrs. Janowski, as Max was not in the best of health and was not able to join us.  Seated upstairs in a lovely restaurant, we had a friendly waitress that Newman has kept in contact with to this very day.  When Christopher couldn’t decide between two entrees, Newman suggested that he order both, which he (and perhaps Newman) did, to the good-humored surprise of Mrs. Janowski.

KAM had a long-standing collaboration with Liberty Baptist Church and their Sanctuary Choir was awesome. Under the musical direction of Marcus Love their voices soared.   I was standing in the back of this beautiful Byzantine-inspired synagogue at Greenwood Avenue and Hyde Park Boulevard across the street from what we now know was the Obama family’s Chicago home.  The synagogue was packed.  As the program ended with “We Shall Overcome” the audience stood and linked hands, and voices uplifting in song brought tears to my eyes.

Deborah shared that:

What I remember was the incredible space in which we performed, the immensity of the acoustics and the beautiful, heartfelt response of the audience and their comments.  They spoke of how the performance  reminded them of the shared efforts between the Black and Jewish communities during the Civil Rights movement. I remember congregants afterwards speaking to one another from their different churches saying how they should get together more often for interfaith projects… how much history they shared in common, how emotional they felt… and how we as performers felt their involvement on a deep level.

The Chicago Tribune in their Quick Picks section recommended the program referring to it as a day of dance and harmony.  It was!!  I saved the Quick Picks article and the program cover from the performance.

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“Let My People Go” Meets “Let It Snow”

JoAnne Tucker / / "Let My People Go"

“Let My People Go” toured throughout the United States for 11 years, with performances in high schools, colleges, community centers, churches and synagogues!  While I’m not sure of the exact number of performances, it was certainly over 50.  The original cast made a tremendous impact on the creation of the piece.  New cast members each brought their own personality and talent to their role. Each performance had its own story.  However, as I continue this series of blogs related to “Let My People Go,” I will focus on the more unusual events as well as programs that grew out of the work.  I continue with two different concerts that were strongly impacted by snowstorms.

On Friday night, February 2, 1990, we performed “Let My People Go” at Beth Israel Synagogue outside of Atlantic City in a joint event they had organized with members of the Salem United Methodist Church.  Part of the company returned to New York City right away because of commitments they had on Saturday.  The next morning, Kezia, Deborah and I began our drive from Atlantic City to Hamilton, New York to be joined on Sunday by the rest of the cast for a performance at Colgate University. Hamilton is located in a rural part of upstate New York.  The ride was uneventful until late afternoon, when we were on a small country road not far from Hamilton and it began to snow.  A deer came flying out of nowhere and we hit it. Luckily the car did not spin and we easily brought it to a stop.  We got out to see the condition of the deer.  It didn’t survive the hit.  We were devastated by this, and Deborah spent a few prayerful moments by the deer.  Since it was a fairly large deer, the front of the car was quite damaged. I can’t remember the next detailed sequence of events,but soon there was a highway patrolman helping us.   After he did his paperwork, he said, “Well, the deer’s yours; do you want it?”  Kezia was astounded by this request, as if we had been engaged in no-frills hunting of the animal we were mourning.  We offered the deer to either him or the tow truck driver, and it was accepted appreciatively.  The tow truck driver graciously took us to his cozy home where we waited for a ride to our Colgate hosts.  Finally we arrived at an elegant farm-house and enjoyed our lovely hosts’ warm hospitality and their view of the snow beautifully highlighting the trees and surrounding landscape.

The next morning, after awakening again to the magnificent expansive view and silence of snow, we heard from the four other performers that they had rented a car as planned and begun the drive, but the roads were simply too bad and they were turning around and heading back.  Hum… here we were with a program planned as a joint celebration of African and Jewish culture in recognition of Black History Month with only two “White” dancers and one “White” choreographer to represent our multicultural piece. Our contact, Moshe Gresser, who was an Assistant Professor in the Philosophy and Religion department as well as faculty advisor of the Jewish Student Group, was supportive and cooperative in helping us to redesign the program the best we could, including involving the audience at points to provide and experience some of the vocal accompaniment. In my scrapbook is a review of the event, published two days later in The Colgate Maroon, which is very kind to our efforts.  But we certainly remember some displeased comments made to us, such as, “They couldn’t make it because of the snow??!!??” accompanied by disbelieving faces. We definitely felt self conscious about not representing our piece well.  The program also included the wonderfully energetic Sojourners Chorus and the Dean of the College quoting from Dr. King and setting the mood for the event.

Krista Pilot wrote in the review:

Moshe Gresser then introduced the Avodah Dance Ensemble by explaining both its name and its goal in producing the program entitled “Let My People Go.”…. After the introduction, two out of five dancers took the stage and began what the audience assumed was the performance. A few minutes later, however, JoAnne Tucker, the choreographer, interrupted the dance to explain that three of the dancers were stranded in (surprise!) the snowstorm and could not make the performance. The program did continue with an abbreviated version of the entire piece with Ms. Tucker and Moshe Gresser narrating and the audience joining in to provide chanting and background noise. Despite the missing half of their ensemble the remaining members managed to give the Colgate audience a good representation of the complete program.

I am glad I saved the review because our memory was more of a disappointing, strange performance and I am delighted to know that we managed to pull off something respectable. The next morning, after a phone discussion with my husband Murray,and evaluation of the condition of the car, we decided to leave the car in upstate NY since it wasn’t worth repairing, and we all returned to NYC via bus, the weather no longer a problem.

Kezia, in a moment that was easy to perform for the Colgate event.

Photo by Tom Brazil.

Fast forward to 1994.  It’s four years after Colgate, and we are scheduled to perform on Saturday, February 12 in Detroit, and then drive to Toledo, Ohio for a performance on Sunday night.  Our cantor for these performances is to be Ida Rae Cahana, who performed the role with us in NYC and on tour after Mark finished cantorial school and left the cast.

Ida had graduated in 1993, and it had been almost a year since she had worked with us.  Her last performance had been at Metropolitan Synagogue in NYC, where she had a placement as student cantor.  It was an excellent, memorable performance, reviewed by Back Stage, but Kezia remembers it particularly well for an additional reason.  With her notoriously poor sense of direction, Kezia had left the “dressing room” in the synagogue and gone through a door that she thought was taking her to the performance space, only to find herself locked outdoors (on a cold day), in costume, having to race around the outside of the building and enter through the bustling front-door crowd and audience to get “backstage” for the start of the piece.

But back to Detroit.  We were looking forward to a good long rehearsal on Saturday afternoon to refresh Ida Rae’s memory and practice together.  I can’t remember whether we were scheduled to fly out on Friday or first thing Saturday morning but our flight was cancelled due to major snow in the New York area.  We were due to leave from Newark airport, which was not going to reopen until maybe late on Saturday, and so the airline recommended we fly out of JFK where they could get us on an early afternoon flight.  OK, that could work and we would still have time for a rehearsal.

We all managed to make it to JFK, finding various ways to get there.  I was on the phone with Cantor Harold Orback (1931-2014), a much loved member of the clergy of Temple Israel.  I told him I would keep him posted as to our progress as it already looked like the early afternoon flight was delayed.  The program was scheduled to begin at 7 and included a dinner, so most likely we wouldn’t perform until 8 or 8:30.   Delay after delay.  Finally around 5 we boarded the flight.  More delays getting off the ground but at last we took off and I figured we might just get there in time to perform, probably just going over a few cues first for Ida Rae.

We landed in Detroit at 8 p.m. in fairly bad weather.  The pilot came on the speaker to inform us that we had slid off the runway and had to wait to be towed in.  That added another half hour.  I called Cantor Orback.  “No problem,” he said, “just come when you can.”

Thankfully, Newman offered to drive the rental minivan, as it was snowing and he had experience driving in snow.  As he carefully drove us there, I observed several cars that had slid off the road.  We made it to Temple Israel at about 10 and expected that everyone would have gone home.  To our surprise, there was a large group that greeted us enthusiastically and appeared to be having an enjoyable evening.  I think Cantor Orback, an outstanding performer, and maybe Ida Rae, had been doing an impromptu performance.  Kezia thinks the crowd may have been singing, as well as conversing happily.  The mood was very energetic and welcoming.

The dancers changed into costumes. We practiced a lift with Ida Rae that Louis had added to the piece. The dancers did a few warm up pliés, and “Let My People Go” began to an attentive audience.  Ida Rae remembered all of her part wonderfully, except one cue, when she forgot to come in.  Newman kept ringing a bell to get her attention. I was on the side trying very hard to wish her in and struggling not to laugh at Newman’s efforts. After what seemed like a long time to me but was probably just a few seconds, Newman’s prompting worked and in she came, never missing another cue.  What a nice ending to a very stressful travel day.  The next day we continued on to Toledo for a performance at Ida Rae’s congregation.

Ida Rae on an earlier tour to Denver and Boulder.  Pictured from L to R: Loretta Abbott, Newman Taylor Baker, JoAnne Tucker, Deborah Hanna and Ida Rae Cahana. The picture was taken by Kezia on a rare day off when we went sightseeing.  Note the snow on the mountains in the background, which was beautiful to look at, while we enjoyed good weather where we were.

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After School Program for Children Living in Temporary Housing

JoAnne Tucker / / "Let My People Go"

Thirty children, along with a few parents, arrived at our home base of Hebrew Union College–Jewish Institute of Religion (HUC-JIR) on West 4thStreet in NYC to spend several hours with the Let My People Go Company. For five weeks, twice a week they participated in 45 minutes of dance and 45 minutes of music education, as well as journal writing, dinner and other short activities related to Let My People Go. The program culminated in a special sharing for parents and invited guests, where the children performed, celebrated at a special dinner and went home with souvenirs including a Let My People Go T-shirt, a rainstick, and books (generously donated by Scholastic Press) about music and Harriet Tubman.

We learned about the Cultural Arts Program for Children Living in Temporary Housing from H.T. Chen and Dian Dong, as we rented rehearsal space for a number of years from Chen and Dancers in Chinatown.  They had received grants from the New York City Department of Cultural Affairs for several years and suggested we apply. We did and were thrilled to receive grants for the next several years until the program ended.  It was one of the most satisfying teaching experiences that we had.

Kezia shared some of the experiences of the first year in Avodah’s December 1995 Newsletter:

The talking drum shouted with anger and then whispered a secret.  The 12-year-old drummer had expressed her frustration clearly, without using a word.  Words might come later, too, in her journal, but right now the drum was more satisfying, simultaneously announcing her feelings while keeping the specifics private.

Think of all the emotions, the alarms, the summonses, the celebrations, the unifying rhythms, the messages –throughout history, throughout the world – that have been spoken by drums. Nor did the power of the drum escape the attention of those who feared it; just as slaves in America were forbidden to learn to read, forbidden to gather, so too, their drums were taken away.  But as the children who worked with our drummer, Newman Baker, would tell you, if you don’t have an actual drum in front of you, you always have one on you.  And these children would further demonstrate for you the variations in tone when you slap the top of your thigh, pat the side of it, or tap your knee, all while beating complicated rhythms on this “hambone.”

It was during these programs that we witnessed Newman’s incredible talents teaching and I am thrilled to report that Newman continued to share his talents with Avodah as a regular collaborator and today continues as my very dear friend.  You will be reading lots more about him as this blog continues.

Newman and Elizabeth teaching in a junior high school classroom.  We often had grants to bring programs into the public schools.

All the company members proved to be excellent teachers beautifully guiding the children in various activities.  For example, Loretta talked about Harriet Tubman and asked the children to go quietly from their lively school bus through a long lobby downstairs to their activity room as if they were fugitive slaves following Harriet Tubman on the Underground Railroad.   Loretta, of course, became Harriet Tubman.

Loretta Abbott leading the children in the final presentation.

The facilities at HUC-JIR proved to be outstanding for the program.  The large kitchen was ideal to make tasty and healthy dinners. Thank you, HUC-JIR, for making this possible. I learned that I could shop at BJ’s in Jersey City for large amounts of food at a reasonable price enabling me to add treats that the children were able to take home with them.  For the first year, a former Avodah dancer, Peggy Evans (then a professional clown), coordinated the cooking.  With classes, journal writing and eating together, the program flowed smoothly.

The Chapel at HUC-JIR was just perfect forthe dance classes and especially for the final presentation.

The director of the program for the New York City Department of Cultural Affairs was Rhonda McLean Nur. And much to our delight she sent Jeannine Otis to observe our work for the Department.  We had met Jeannine before, when she appeared in a program that we had shared with Faith Journey at HUC.    As we got to know Jeannine more, I kept thinking there had to be a way to collaborate with her.  (See the next blog for how this came to be.)

In the second year of receiving the grant and developing a very strong relationship with the children, I arranged a field trip/reunion for the staff and children to attend a performance of the Broadway show Bring in ‘da Noise, Bring in ‘da Funk.  While I don’t remember all the details of how we were able to pull this off, I believe the producers made special price tickets available to school groups for the matinee.  It was exciting to have Savion Glover and other cast members talk to the children after the show.

Our field trip to see Bring in ‘da Noise, Bring in ‘da Funk.

Reflecting back on these unique teaching opportunities my heart again fills with the joy that we received from the children.  They were eager and hungry to learn from us, and their enthusiasm brought out the very best in our teaching skills.

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Bravo’s in California!!

JoAnne Tucker / / "Let My People Go"

It’s 1997 and “Let My People Go” is in its 9th year of touring.  We are preparing for a tour to Northern California and the cantor who has been singing with us is not able to continue so I need to find someone new.  The voice I keep hearing in my head chanting the Hebrew text belongs not to a cantor, but to Jeannine Otis.  Hum… that would be different– having an African American artist do the cantor’s role.  Why not!!

As mentioned in a previous blog, we first knew Jeannine both from her performance in Faith Journey, and from her work as an evaluator with the Cultural Arts Program that gave us a grant to run a program for children living in NYC temporary housing.  After that first grant, Jeannine accompanied one of our performances of Negro Spirituals, and we danced — with her accompaniment — as part of an AIDS memorial service at St. Mark’s Church in-the-Bowery, where she was (and is still) the Musical Director.  As Kezia noted in a 1997 Avodah Newsletter, “the whole company had fallen in love with Jeannine’s voice, her poise, her sincerity, her soul and her striking lack of ego.”

I asked Jeannine how her Hebrew was and if she was interested in joining the “Let My People Go” cast.  She said she was good at learning different languages for singing and that she would be willing to be tutored.  The first tutor didn’t work out but the second one did and Henry Resnick did a super job coaching Jeannine with the Hebrew text.  As rehearsal got underway I couldn’t have been more thrilled with Jeannine as part of the cast.

Our first performance was in Santa Rosa on a Sunday afternoon in February co-sponsored by Congregation Beth Ami and Community Baptist Church.  Either the day before or that morning we went over to Community Baptist Church to lead a workshop with teens from both congregations.  The leaders of the two congregations couldn’t have been more different.  One preached boldly in a vibrant African America Baptist style while the Rabbi from Congregation Beth Ami was quiet and reserved.  They got along beautifully and we noticed that later in the day when the Rabbi spoke before our concert he was bolder and livelier.  Fun to see how we can learn from each other.

A packed audience from both congregations watched with intensity and enthusiasm and rapidly rose to its feet as soon as “Let My People Go” ended.  The six-member cast was superb.  Newman Baker, Kezia Gleckman Hayman, Carla Norwood, Jeannine Otis, Mark Walcott, and Lisa Danette Watson blended beautifully with each other, and the bravo’s and cheers they received were well deserved.

The Full Cast. Photo by Tom Scott.

We had a few days off before our next performance so we toured the wine country and then a few of us did mud baths at Calistoga.  Carla, in a memory of that Avodah tour, wrote of “sitting on the cliffs above the Pacific Coast at Point Reyes National Park, a detour from the nerve-wracking drive along California’s Highway 1.” (Kezia also remembers that she and Carla decided to explore some of San Francisco on foot, armed with a simple local street map.  They were proud of themselves, until they discovered that the map failed to indicate that some of their chosen streets were so steep they had staircases built into the sidewalks!)

Jeannine and Carla at Point Reyes National Park. Photo by Kezia Gleckman Hayman.

Lisa doing an attitude on the path at Point Reyes. Photo by Kezia Gleckman Hayman.

Other performances on the tour included Hillel sponsored programs at Berkeley and Stanford,and then Friday night at Congregation Sherith Israel in San Francisco, with the Jones Memorial Church presenting traditional music of South Africa and the African Diaspora.  I remember the spacing at Sherith Israel was challenging as the “bema” was narrow and yet with just an afternoon rehearsal the company made it their own. Cantor Martin Feldman and Jeannine sang together at one point adding another dimension.

Cantor Martin Feldman and Jeannine in rehearsal. Photo by Tom Scott.

I could (but won’t) go on and on about all the amazing performances and talented dancers and cantors who shared their gifts in this piece, and the communities that chose to come together to sponsor a performance, often with accompanying workshops or Question and Answer sessions.  I will mention that Jeannine continued to perform this piece with us after the California tour.  She had learned the Hebrew so well, and performed so beautifully, that an audience member once asked whether African American cantors are common.

Newman at the San Francisco airport before we headed home.

Photo: Kezia Gleckman Hayman.

Here are links to some excerpts of Jeannine in the Cantor’s role from a performance she did with us at a church outside of Chicago.

Excerpt 1: Moses you are standing on Holy Ground

Excerpt 2: “M’Chamocha” and “Hallelujah”

Excerpt 3:  End of the piece: Spiritual, “Go Down Moses”

To learn more about Jeannine visit her website.

 

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Make a Change: Collaboration with Community Members

JoAnne Tucker / / "Let My People Go"

Louis and I wanted to do another collaboration together and this time create a piece that would have space for community members to participate in both the choreographic process and the performance.  As we toured with Let My People Go throughout the United States and saw the enthusiasm with which communities were collaborating in presenting a performance we began to wonder what it would be like if they became part of the performance, creating a piece that engaged both the company and community members.

We had created a piece on one of our tours to the suburbs of Chicago in 1997 when the company worked with youth from New Faith Baptist Church in Matteson, IL and B’nai Yehuda Beth Sholom in Homewood, IL, spending the afternoon together.  Using the friendship between Dr. Martin Luther King and Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel as motivation, the piece, involving about 15 young dancers from the congregations, was titled Stand Up Take Action.

This experience showed us a beginning path to engage community with the company and so as the tenth anniversary of Let My People Go was nearing in the fall of 1998, we began work on a new collaboration which Louis and I called Make a Change.  Rehearsals got underway with dancers Beth Millstein, Tanya Alexander, Jessica Losinski  and Mark Walcott with original musical accompaniment by Newman Taylor Baker and Jeannine Otis.  We were all used to working together and so things progressed quickly and smoothly as we established set choreography with places where community members would join us.

Our goal was to create a piece about the energy it takes to make a difference – to explore the idea of change, with joy and celebration, and ask participants not what causes they supported, but rather what kind of energy is needed to make a change.

Performances were planned for January of 1999, first in Brooklyn’s Park Slope Jewish Center, then in Staten Island, and the official opening at our home base of Hebrew Union College. In Brooklyn six members of the Brooklyn Brownstone Coalition danced with the company in the piece.  The Staten Island performance was sponsored by Temple Israel and was held at the Music Hall of the Snug Harbor Cultural Center, billed as a community celebration in Dance and Song for Dr. Martin Luther King, on Sunday evening, January 10th.  An earlier announcement in the Staten Island Advance invited community members to participate.  They did not need professional training. They just had to be comfortable moving, and willing to improvise.  They also had to be available to attend two workshops earlier that week and the dress rehearsal at 3 p.m. on the performance day.

We were thrilled at the diverse turnout and enthusiasm of the 16 adult participants.  The workshops were great fun to lead and I found myself dancing up a storm too.

Community members at a rehearsal. Photo by Kezia Gleckman Hayman.

JoAnne demonstrating hambone. Photo by Kezia Gleckman Hayman.

Kezia in the Avodah Newsletter described our process:

First Louis and JoAnne built a structure for the piece, setting choreography on company members and leaving gaps for community participants. The dancers collaborated in creating their movements, and musicians Newman Taylor Baker andJeannine Otis created the entire musical score under Louis’s direction. Short phrases of movement from set choreography were then selected for teaching to community casts.  In a few workshops bringing together volunteers from a variety of groups in a given local community, JoAnne coached participants through guided improvisations to find their own movements expressing their heartfelt desire to “make a change.”

Kezia and Mark teaching a combination to community members. Photo by JoAnne Tucker.

We were also very fortunate to have a grant from The New York City Department of Cultural Affairs. The cultural challenge grant was matched by 90 individual contributors and the official opening of the piece was on January 28that Hebrew Union College.

Additional grants related to the project followed. The Tribune New York Foundation funded our return to Brooklyn’s Midwood High School to work with 11thgraders in a combined English and Social Studies curriculum focusing on ideas related to the new piece.  We also conducted workshops and performed for youth from temporary housing in Pleasantville, New York in a program coordinated by Mara Mills, Director of the Newman Theatre at the YW-YWHA in Pleasantville.

Later in the year we received a grant from The Irving Caesar Lifetime Trust. Lyricist and songwriter Irving Caesar (1895-1996) was known for his lyrics to “Tea for Two,” “Swanee” and the show No, No Nanette.  This grant enabled us to conduct a series of six workshops at two different New York City public high schools, culminating in the students’ joining the company in a performance at their school.

Just before writing this blog I watched a video of the Staten Island performance of Make a Change. Unfortunately the quality is very bad so I won’t be sharing it online. But let me describe a few things that struck me as I watched. First of all for this performance, the piece opens with Louis and me on stage.  We have a brief discussion about the work and then as we shout together, “Change!” the piece begins.  The 16 community dancers are wonderful, showing confidence in their parts, and working sometimes as a complete group and other times in small groups of four. When Newman first enters it is with a bold jump into the center of the stage and he plays “hambone” – usinghis hands on various parts of his body to create rhythms and different sounds.  The community dancers join him at the end.  Later we find Newman participating with the dancers, helping Mark to lift another dancer.

A key movement phrase to show determination to make a change is a series of small weighted jumps in a second position plié (the position shown in the photo led by Kezia and Mark).  The community members later join the company members in this phrase.  Louis set some wonderful balletic moments and even a bit of jazzy Broadway-show style movement.  Jeannine playfully enters and moves around the stage with original music she composed to the phrase “make a change.” In all, it is a fun, lively, interactive 10-minute piece.

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A Special Visit with Louis Johnson

JoAnne Tucker / / "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 125thStreet, 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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An Intercultural Harmony Grant Funds a 2004 Summer Workshop

JoAnne Tucker / / Movement Workshops, Multicultural Programs, Perry-Mansfield, Personal Life

Avodah began to do week-long summer dance training programs in 1997, but I want to share memories of our final one, at Perry-Mansfield in August 2004.  We were very fortunate to have a grant from the Laura Jane Musser Fund.   This fund, which began in 1989 upon the death of Laura Jane Musser, is devoted to her interests, which included the arts and helping children.  One of the areas funded is Intercultural Harmony and we applied for a grant to provide a five-day workshop teaching how to use movement, music and storytelling to create multicultural programs in schools.  The grant enabled me to put together a stellar faculty and to help provide scholarships to participants.

This was not the first Avodah workshop at Perry-Mansfield in Steamboat Spring, CO. The first one was in 2001 when Amichai Lau Lavie and Libbie Mathes joined me as the faculty with our week focused on Yoga, Dance and Sacred Text. Libbie was my next-door neighbor in Steamboat Springs and we quickly discovered our common interest in dance and sacred text from both a Jewish and a Buddhist perspective.  This was a great opportunity for us to work together.  Libbie is a highly trained and gifted teacher of Yoga, having studied in India in both Asana (posture) and Pranayama (breath work).  Amichai is now a rabbi, but at the time of the workshop he was a student, extremely knowledgeable about Jewish text.  Libbie remembers “loving his analysis and insights into the Moses sagas.”  The workshop was part of Avodah’s training program for leaders of dance midrash, and at least one person who had done workshops with me in NYC made the trip to Perry-Mansfield in Colorado.

Libbie and I did another workshop the following year focusing on Meditation, with Rabbi Sheila Peltz Weinberg joining us. And then in 2004 we had a faculty of five, all people that I had a long history of working with.  As I mentioned in the opening paragraph, we focused on training teachers to use multicultural programs in the schools. Libbie continued providing the Yoga section and insights from her explorations of India and Yoga’s traditions.  Regina Ress, an international storyteller, had a huge number of relevant stories to share and had taught in schools at all levels.  Kezia had both an education degree and a dance degree, and had danced and taught with Avodah for 13 years.  She and I had led many workshops related to dance midrash and multicultural work that grew out of our piece Let My People Go.  Newman Taylor Baker is a percussionist I had worked with since 1989 as part of Let My People Go and then in other teaching situations along with our prison programs.  He had years of experience presenting school programs and had the most amazing collection of percussion instruments from all over the world.  In addition we invited Julie Gayer to join us, as she was taking on the role of director of The Avodah Dance Ensemble in the fall of 2004, since I was no longer living in New York City and was retiring from heading the dance company.

Our 2004 faculty from l. to r. Libbie, Kezia, Julie, JoAnne, Newman and Regina sitting on the edge of the Louis Horst Dance Studio at Perry-Mansfield.

We not only had participants from throughout the United States, but two members of the Steamboat Springs community, as well.  Libbie remembers a chemistry teacher and also an administrator.  We were thrilled that we could offer scholarships to participants.  Having all worked together before, this was a sheer teaching joy where we could just easily flow from one leader to another.  As Libbie and I were next-door neighbors and luckily the townhouse on the other side of mine was vacant, we rented it for the week, and everyone had fun hanging out together after teaching.  I remember that Newman introduced me to quinoa and showed me how to rinse it first before cooking it.  And then the weekend following the workshop, we had a wonderful time hiking two of my favorite trails. 

Storytelling, movement, and music are all ways to connect to others and learn about different cultures, finding common threads and celebrating differences.  For me on a personal note it was a wonderful way to complete my work with the Avodah Dance Ensemble as its founding director.  Avodah had begun with my exploration of my own Jewish roots and my relationship to Jewish text.  Now over thirty years later, I had changed and my focus was on building bridges between people and seeing intercultural harmony (the beautiful phrase used by the Laura Jane Musser Fund).  And how wonderful to be able to hold this workshop at Perry-Mansfield in the Louis Horst Studio.  It was like so many pieces of my life coming together…nature, spirituality, dance history, personal history, deep friendships and artistic collaborations. 

Regina hugging a tree on one of our hikes.
Resting on a hike and totally enjoying being together.
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Finding just the right music for a film

JoAnne Tucker / / Film, Music

We’ve got the right script for a film and it has been edited.  Now we need to add some music.  Solving the problem of just the right accompaniment has been nearly a sixty-year challenge for me.  I can remember spending hours in the Juilliard library listening to music to find the right piece for a work I was creating for Louie Horst’s choreography class on Group Forms. More recently I have been challenged to find music to go with the films that Healing Voices – Personal Stories has made, related to domestic violence.  Often, the music has been the final step in the filmmaking process, and that was the case with our most recent film, One in 7, which we completed in December 2021.

The earlier films for Healing Voices were focused on women, but this new one was focused on the fact the one in seven men also are victims of domestic violence.  As I watched the early drafts of the film I thought that it might be a good idea to ask my friend and colleague Newman Taylor Baker to create some music for the film using the washboard.  Newman is a percussionist whom I have worked with since 1990, when I directed The Avodah Dance Ensemble.  He provided the accompaniment or an original score for a number of the dance pieces in the company.  I thought this might be a project for him and discussed it with my co-director and co-producers.  They all liked the idea, and my co-director David Lindblom had a good suggestion that Newman also film his hands while he was playing.

Newman was enthusiastic.  We sent him a draft of the film so he could get an idea of what we might use in the opening and then in the credits at the end.  That was where we thought we needed music.  When Newman got the short film of 7:14 minutes he decided to improvise and create a score for the whole film.  He was about to go on a trip to Poland and thought he knew some people in Poland who could film him playing in a studio there.  David and I said sure.  We imagined that we could find sections to use for our original idea, and we were curious what Newman’s music would sound like for the full film.

Then we got his score, and what an amazing surprise it was that we liked the music throughout the film.  It gave a rhythm and intensity that fit perfectly and in fact greatly enhanced the impact of the film.  It was a challenge for David who was doing the film’s editing to sync everything correctly, and I am so grateful that he took his time and worked on it until he felt it was just right.  It was important to balance the level of the washboard with the voices of the speakers in the film too. David also used visuals of Newman playing in different places, and the image of Newman’s fingers inside bullet cases playing on the washboard added another dimension to a story focused on the three men describing violence they had experienced.

The whole experience reminded me again of the importance of how the arts complement each other.  Filmmaking — like theatre, opera and dance — is bringing together more than one art form.  Yes… it may be driven by a script, or choreography, but it is the blending of other art forms with the primary one that makes the work complete, taking the viewer on a total journey.  Newman’s creativity and fascination in experimenting with accompanying the film from beginning to end made a huge difference.  David’s vision of not just hearing Newman but making sure we had a visual of him playing was essential for the final result.

I come away from this project celebrating collaboration and keenly aware of how the right musical accompaniment can drive a work whether it be in dance or in film. A special thank you to Newman Taylor Baker, David Lindblom, The Family Place in Dallas, TX, and the three men who bravely shared some of their story with us.  Here is a link to watch the film.

A screen shot from the film of Newman’s hands playing the washboard!

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Casa Uno – Labyrinth Number 26 – Camino del Artista (Part 4)

JoAnne Tucker / / Costa Rica, Music

The Labyrinth was completed on a Saturday afternoon and of course I was excited to take my first walk that very afternoon.  As I walked it this first time, I saw the garden and the surrounding property in a new way.  For the next few mornings, I followed a pattern of walking the labyrinth first thing in the morning.  Again, I was surprised at how I saw things differently.  A new flower that had opened or a bird sitting on a nearby tree stump delighted me.  When our garden crew came on Monday, the “head” of the team walked it himself and shared that it wasn’t so easy.  Yes, it was filled with turns and curves.  I found it challenging and helpful in working on my balance.

A flower that just opened and only lasts for a day. Picture taken on one of my morning walks!

My thoughts soon turned to what kind of ceremony to have to honor the designer, Ronald Esquivel, and Jan Hurwitch, who had selected crystals to be buried in the labyrinth.  My good friend and very talented musician Newman Taylor Baker was coming with his daughter to spend some time, and I thought, “How perfect.  Let’s do the ceremony when he is here and maybe he will be willing to play his washboard.”  While Newman has toured around the world as a jazz percussionist, he now has been working on solo programs and small ensembles with the washboard.  He mentioned he would be bringing it.

A date was set, and then it was frustrating that I wanted to invite lots of people but knew with COVID and the limited parking at the house it was important to keep it to a very small number.  In the end we did two celebrations, one that was in English and included eight of my ex-pat friends in the community… that ended up being fourteen people in all when you counted Ronald, Jan, myself, Newman and his daughter, and Manrique the house manager.  The second one was for Manrique’s family who speaks very limited English.

When Ronald and Jan arrived, we discussed how to proceed.  I thought that Newman would play while we walked the labyrinth for the first time, but Ronald said no, we should just focus on walking first and then later Newman could play.  Our focus would not be divided, and Newman would have the option of walking with us!  Before we walked, Jan led us in a beautiful ceremony of planting each of the crystals.  As you remember from an earlier blog, she had selected five different crystals.

I must admit that I was a bit nervous about this part.  While I liked the idea of planting the crystals, I didn’t want this part to get too touchy-feely. Jan led it perfectly. She guided us starting with the black onyx which was planted at the point where we “show up.”  We haven’t entered the actual labyrinth yet, and the onyx is symbolic of releasing negative energy.  Its purpose is both to help the walker let go of any negative energy, and to protect the labyrinth from negative energy.  When Jan asked for a volunteer to plant it, Katy quickly responded, and we handed her the large spoon to use. The black onyx was planted with the purpose of repelling negativity.

Newman volunteered to plant the next crystal, the aquamarine, which represents courage.  It was planted at the most private place, giving an individual the opportunity to go inward and think about what they might want to create or to just be still for a few minutes with their personal thoughts!  The next crystal was planted at the opposite end.  It’s a point where one can look outward beyond the property. The orange agate was planted here by Raquel for the purpose of reducing stress!

Next the whole group moved to the entrance of the labyrinth.  Paul planted  the crystal quartz, which promotes healing and spirituality.  We didn’t follow the actual path at this point but rather just went to the places where the crystals would be planted.

Jan asked me to plant the last agate, the rose quartz, in the center of the labyrinth to represent love and compassion.  She reminded us that love and compassion must always start with oneself!

JoAnne finishing planting the rose quartz. After each crystal was planted, the person who planted it blessed the ground. Other individuals joined in by placing their hands on the person’s back to be part of the blessing. Photo by Stefani Baker

Now that all the crystals were planted, we regathered at the “showing up” place.  A few people had taken off their shoes to walk barefoot which is the most beneficial way.  Some places were ready for us to walk barefoot with lush grass. Others lacked grass and had stones, so I did mention that and some of us kept our shoes on.

Ronald led us and we followed the path into the center. Ronald gave us the option of following the path back out, which is the traditional way and how I do it as much as possible.  A few took that option.

Ronald guiding us as we walked the labyrinth as a group for the first time. Photo by Stefani Baker.

We made a circle in the center when we completed the walk in. Photo by Stefani Baker.

We celebrated with some refreshments and then enjoyed a wonderful intimate concert with Newman playing the washboard.  Everyone was totally mesmerized by his playing and the variety of sound that he could made from just one instrument.

Newman playing. Photo by Stefani Baker
Link to a short excerpt from Newman’s playing. https://vimeo.com/712620130

Our smaller celebration with Manrique’s family challenged Newman’s daughter Stefani and I to describe the labyrinth in Spanish.  We both worked with our teacher Raquel to be able to do this.  It was another wonderful experience that ended with each of the four women spending a minute or two playing the washboard.

I am amazed at how each day my walk on Camino del Artista is different.  Sometimes I am filled with a new idea and at other times I am seeing new things in the garden or far off landscape.  If I am off balance I know it and as I slowly follow the path, I regain my balance.    A deep bow of  gratitude to Ronald Esquivel for creating this special labyrinth and to Jan for selecting the crystals.  I look forward to sharing it with others.

Thank you, Stefani, for documenting the event, and I had to close with this fun selfie you took with your “Daddy” in the background!

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