Lovesongs and Lullabies

Over two months ago I had begun writing about the Sephardic program we developed and toured with Rabbi Ray Scheindlin. Then came the intensity of caretaking and losing my longtime  partner, and when I did write again it was turning my attention to the immediate.  Now, although still very much in a stage of not knowing what is normal or routine, I find myself glad to return to remembering and reflecting on the last of the three works that were part of the Sephardic program.  This piece was called Lovesongs and Lullabies.  

I have always felt so honored and blessed to have wonderful dancers to work with, and Lovesongs and Lullabies was a set of four songs in which each dancer could be featured in one song and then all the dancers could join together in the last one. The three featured dancers, Elizabeth McPherson, Beth Millstein Wish and Kezia Gleckman Hayman all continue to be special friends who I am so glad are still very much a part of my life.  

The motivation for this piece came from finding a wonderful set of Sephardic Love Songs and Lullabies.  Wikipedia has a helpful description of Sephardic music.  Here is the beginning paragraph and then an excerpt from a later one.  If you would like to read the whole section along with links to a lot of Sephardic artists, click here

Sephardic music has its roots in the musical traditions of the Jewish communities in medieval Spain and medieval Portugal. Since then, it has picked up influences from MoroccoTurkeyGreeceBulgaria, and the other places that Spanish and Portuguese Jews settled after their expulsion from Spain in 1492 and from Portugal in 1496. Lyrics were preserved by communities formed by the Jews expelled from the Iberian Peninsula. These Sephardic communities share many of the same lyrics and poems, but the melodies vary considerably. 

The language of these folk songs was Judaeo-Spanish or Ladino, a mix of different Old Spanish dialects and Hebrew. Much like Yiddish in Eastern Europe, Judaeo- Spanish was spoken by Jews in Spain and Portugal in addition to the languages
of public life, which at the time were Arabic and Spanish.

I really loved the four songs I found. I wish I could remember the artist singing them but I can’t,  and while I found some of the songs (particularly Nani Nani) on YouTube they were by different artists.  They all had feelings of longing, sadness and softness to them.  The opening piece featured Elizabeth McPherson,  remembering and longing for an absent lover.  Kezia and Beth joined her for a lovely trio in parts of the piece.  The second piece is to the well known lullaby Nani Naniin which the Mom is singing her sadness to her child.  Beth Millstein is the Mom lulling her imaginary baby.  Another dancer is kneeling, holding a piece of fabric as if it were a baby. As the piece progresses, Beth takes the fabric from the  kneeling dancer and uses it sometimes as the baby and sometimes as a way to vent her frustration. By the end of this section her movement has become intense and the image of the baby is lost, replaced by the pain of wanting her husband to return.

Continuing in this theme of longing for a lover (or a home/land/life) no longer present, Kezia’s piece opens with a long diagonal cross of deep lunges with arms to her side.  Gradually arms are added to the traveling lunges as she faces in different directions as if reaching for the memory she aches for,  and she is joined by Beth and Elizabeth.  Contractions to the floor are added to this section which continues with variations of the longing lunges.

The transition into the last section has Kezia picking up the fabric which had been used in the second section and putting it as a shawl around Beth. Beth portrays a bride entering the mikvah. A mikvah is a bath used for the purpose of ritual immersion in Judaism, including sometimes by a bride before her wedding.  The other dancers join Beth, preparing her and blessing her as she enters the imaginary mikvah.  Walking into that imaginary water she slowly immerses herself and then stands up with a tenderness and strength.  

Luckily we have a video of one of the performances, which helped to refresh my mind.  I was surprised by my reaction as I watched, mainly that the dramatic longings the dancers portrayed came through so clearly even on my small laptop.  And once again I am reminded of how beautifully Kezia, Beth and Elizabeth danced both individually and together, contributing to the company growth.  What a joy it is to still be in touch with them nearly thirty years later. 

Luckily we have several very lovely pictures from the piece and I conclude today’s writing by sharing them. 

From l. to r. Beth Millstein and Kezia Gleckman Hayman  (Photo by Tom Brazil)
Beth Millstein as the bride in the final section with Elizabeth and Kezia. (Photo by Tom Brazil

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In the Garden: A New Piece Inspired by a Medieval Book of Poetry

Seven years after Sephardic Suite, I created two companion pieces for that work, to be part of a program commemorating the 500th anniversary of the Spanish Inquisition.  While the Inquisition began in 1481, it wasn’t until 1492 that the Jews were actually expelled from Spain.  Many Jews had converted to Christianity, but in the first twelve years, more than 13,000 Conversos (Secret Jews) were put on trial. Then all Jews were expelled from the country.   Five hundred years after the Expulsion, it looked like there would be a lot of programming marking that anniversary and I was inspired to develop more repertory.  I knew that I wanted to collaborate with a scholar and found the perfect person, Rabbi Raymond Scheindlin.  

Rabbi Scheindlin is Professor Emeritus of Medieval Hebrew Literature at Jewish Theological Seminary. He specializes in medieval Hebrew poetry with a special interest in Spain and other regions of Arabic culture. Please check out his website to learn more about this outstanding scholar and the numerous books he has published.  I was particularly fascinated with his collection of poetry in Wine, Women, and Death: Medieval Hebrew Poems on the Good Life.

I learned that Jewish poets of medieval Spain combined elements of the dominant Arabic-Islamic culture with Jewish religious and literary traditions to create a rich new Hebrew literature.  In the book Wine,Women and Death, Rabbi Sheindlin presents the original 12th century Hebrew poetry with his own melodic translations. The poetry that he translated is part of the golden age of Jewish culture during the Middle Ages where Muslims ruled and Jews were accepted into society.  Jewish religious, cultural and economic life flourished.

In the book, Scheindlin talked about gatherings that would happen late into the night in beautiful gardens where poetry would be recited.  I remembered my first trip to Granada with Murray in the late 1980’s and how I had fallen in love with the Alhambra Palace and garden in Granada.  I envisioned the new piece of choreography happening in this setting.  Many years later, long after choreographing the piece In the Garden I was able to spend two weeks wandering and sketching in the Alhambra garden while Murray attended a Spanish school in Granada.  It is a very special and beautiful place, both the garden and the surrounding architecture.

Two sketches that I did in the garden at Alhambra in Granada!

Inspired by Alhambra, I had great fun creating In the Garden in collaboration with the four dancers in the company at the time:  Kezia Gleckman Hayman, Beth Millstein, Elizabeth McPherson (and one other dancer whose name I choose to omit … that may be another blog).

Adding one more piece that I will describe in the next blog, we created a new program to tour with Rabbi Scheindlin.  We titled the program “Breezes from Andalusia: Dance, Spain and the Jews.”  

Among the tours I remember with Rabbi Scheindlin are two with unique memories, and Kezia recalls that Rabbi Scheindlin’s perspective contributed, with insight and good humor, to those experiences.  Our recollections:

In one community, Rabbi Scheindlin got into a discussion of Halacha (interpretation of Jewish law) with the rabbi, not concerning anything in the service, but in an attempt to come to our rescue as hungry artists at a post-performance dinner at a local restaurant.  When the menus arrived, we were told by our hosts that we could only order kosher food because the rabbi kept kosher.  The restaurant was not kosher, but it did have some fish and vegetarian dishes, which would be permitted. We pointed out to our hosts, respectfully, that two of the dancers were not Jewish and several of the rest of us did not keep kosher.  We also pointed out, gently, that we had all had a long day of travel and rehearsal and performance (likely with another demanding day to follow), and we thought some might be hoping for meat for dinner.  Despite Rabbi Scheindlin’s efforts to debate the Halacha of the moment on our behalf, we were still told that we all had to eat “kosher.”  In all the years of touring this was the only time JoAnne ever encountered this situation.  Another unique moment of the same evening was that because our hosts invited us to go to dinner, they also wanted to reduce our per diem.  We had often been entertained but no one had ever wanted to deduct our per diem before.  JoAnne prepared to object, but when she asked the amount and heard it was only $5 per person, she just “went with it.”

Rabbi Scheindlin’s touring perspective was interesting to us in other ways, as well.  His wife was a professional singer, and he expressed significant surprise at our performance-day routines.  We learned that the singer would be vigilant about resting her voice on a performance day.  Rabbi Scheindlin remarked repeatedly about the fact that we, in contrast, would rehearse for hours on the performance day, sometimes even traveling on that day as well.  In addition, each performance would be in a new, vastly different setting, requiring extensive spacing adjustments to the choreography.  It happened that one of the tours with Rabbi Scheindlin took us to a Florida congregation with one of the most challenging bemas in the company’s history, with ramps and various levels.  As the dancers went methodically through each piece under JoAnne’s direction, experimenting and constantly restaging movements and formations to accommodate the architecture, Rabbi Scheindlin, who was sitting next to JoAnne during the rehearsal, asked her whether the dancers would really remember all the changes they were making.  JoAnne assured him that the dancers would remember about 95% of the changes, and that she would have a lot of fun seeing how they would spontaneously solve the 5% they forgot. 

JoAnne says she will always stand in awe of the amazing way that Avodah dancers learned to adapt very quickly to the most unusual spaces.  Kezia says she will always be amazed by how JoAnne never scolded a dancer for making any mistake, and indeed, often shared a good laugh about how we “thought on our feet.”

From l. to r. Beth Millstein and Elizabeth McPherson in In the Garden
Kezia Gleckman Hayman in In the Garden (“The cooing of the dove . . .”)

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Sephardic Suite: A Controversial Piece

It was always exciting when I received an invitation to choreograph something new for an event.  That’s what happened in 1985 when my home congregation, Temple Emanuel in Westfield, NJ, asked me to create something for a Sephardic Evening they were planning.  It would include a dinner and then a Friday evening Shabbat service.  We were also busy developing new repertory for a fall season in New York at Hebrew Union College, so I knew that not only would the new piece receive a performance in October at Temple Emanuel, but it would be part of the November concerts.  While the company at that time consisted of one man and four women I decided this piece would be just for the four women.  Little did I know, as I first started working on the piece, that it would prove to be controversial.

Whenever I do a new piece, the first step is to learn as much as I can about the subject. I decided to explore how a Sephardic liturgical service might be unique. I learned that the oldest Jewish Congregation in the United States was Congregation Shearith Israel. It was established in 1654 in New Amsterdam by Jews who arrived from Dutch Brazil.  It was often referred to as The Spanish and Portuguese Synagogue.  I visited the Synagogue on the West Side of New York and was reminded that the architecture and placement of the speaker’s table was different than the synagogues I was used to where the speaker’s podium was in the front, on the bema near the Ark and Torah scrolls.  In Sephardic tradition the raised platform (the bema) is freestanding and in the middle of the sanctuary with seating for the men on both sides almost like theater in the round. As Sephardic congregations are Orthodox (at least as far as I know), the women usually sit upstairs in a women’s gallery or if it is a small synagogue, in a dedicated zone on the same level.

In addition to visiting Congregation Shearith Israel I was able to read some of the minutes related to the synagogue and was surprised by one entry written early in the synagogue’s life.  It seems that several women when they heard the noon church bells ring during the Saturday morning service would cross themselves as if they were in church. Aware of the history of the Jewish community in Spain and later in Portugal during the Inquisition I realized that these were deeply held habits to protect themselves from the Inquisition.  For 300 years from around 1480 to the early 1800’s Jews who lived in Spain, Portugal or their American colonies had to practice their Judaism in secret.  If they were found out they could find themselves in prison, be tortured or even receive a death sentence.  Many Jews left Spain and Portugal. A lot of those who stayed became New Christians, often referred to as Marranos or Conversos.  They had to be very clever in how they maintained their Jewish tradition.

As I was researching history and synagogue architecture I was also listening to lots of Sephardic music. I came across a cassette of music I liked and decided on three pieces from the cassette for the new work.  One piece was perfect for choreography that would be based on ritual movement typically done in the service, including bending, bowing, rising slightly on one’s toes and taking steps forward and back.  The four dancers would be standing two on one side and two on the other as if there were a speaker’s podium between them. At times they would exchange places and move around in a square-like pattern.  The second section of the Suite used Torah gestures of holding the scroll, unrolling and lifting it high so all may see the writing inside, and carrying it through the sanctuary.  The piece is very upbeat, filled with leaps of celebration and movements like those that might be done on the holiday of Simchat Torah, when Jews will often dance holding the Torah scrolls.  (The holiday marks finishing the last portion and beginning the first portion of the year-long cycle of weekly Torah readings.)  The last section of the piece would be to remember Marranos or Conversos (Secret Jews) by juxtaposing the candle lighting gesture with the crossing gesture.  The crossing gesture would be done facing forward while the candle lighting gesture of circling the flames with one’s hands and covering the eyes would be done mainly facing backward.

For the first performance, the piece was done on the bema and I am not sure whether it was done in the sermon spot of the service or just before the service started, following dinner.  What I do remember clearly was how upset Rabbi Charles Kroloff was about the crossing gesture being done on the bema. Either later that evening or the next day he called me into his office and shared that he just wasn’t happy about it.  We had a long talk and he agreed that the piece was appropriate because it was part of the history of Jewish life, but he just felt it wasn’t appropriate for the bema.  It was a valuable discussion and I am grateful that he was so honest about his reaction for it helped me to know how to prepare audiences when we presented the piece mostly in concerts.  Sephardic Suite became a regular part of our repertory but it wasn’t until 1992, the 500th anniversary of the Spanish Inquisition, that more Sephardic pieces would be created and we would collaborate with a Sephardic scholar. 

From l to r: Jean Ference and Kathy Kellerman in the 2nd Section of 
Sephardic Suite celebrating the Torah.

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