Photo: Lorelei Ghanizadeh Voorsanger
Hometown: Born in Champaign/Urbana, Illinois. Raised in metro Boston. Family from NYC.
Current city: Greenbrae, CA
Age: 68
College and degree: B.A. Independent Learning in Psycholinguistics — Speech Perception and Language Acquisition (Indiana University, Bloomington)
Graduate school and degree: M.A. Dance (University of Oregon, Eugene); M.A. Arts Administration (Golden Gate University, San Francisco)
Website: www.danceartsf.org
How you pay the bills: Now? Teaching dance.
All of the dance hats you wear: Dancer, Teacher, Choreographer, Arts Administrator (every aspect of it — management, development, marketing, finance/budgeting, facility management, board development, HR, etc.)
Non-dance work you do: Graphic design – in service to the arts
-------------
Describe your dance life...
Before getting into the chronological rundown, I found it very interesting and challenging to identify turning points that detoured or directed the journey. Especially for people like me who began dancing seriously as children, identifying what aspects of dance attract or fulfill us can be a mysterious adventure. When one starts to dance at age 5, the first years are about obedience and work ethic, and those who continue to dance throughout their lives may actually discover other components of the practice for themselves.
In 1995, I made a quartet titled, “Then Frank looked at Victor, turned to me and said, ‘Knowing isn’t something that happens all of a sudden. It’s something you grow into.’” Kind of summed up what I think my life in dance has been. (Danced with Sue Li Jue, Laura Elaine Ellis, and Michael Armstrong, and dedicated to Frank Shawl and Victor Anderson.)
Some of those turning points, without chronology, since they are ever-evolving:
- Modern dance. Coming from a strict ballet background, taking my first modern dance classes was very confusing. I thought it was ugly. I thought it was regressive. I thought it was easy. Luckily, I was in a program with fabulous, if under-appreciated, teachers who specialized in Horton, Hawkins, and Cunningham techniques. All three of these practices were taught in their true technical progressions, so at least I could appreciate modern dance for that.
- New work vs. repertory. I realized early on that one of the most attractive things to me about modern dance was that it was NEW work. In ballet, often an entire career is spent learning a deep and resonant repertory. Although to this day I adore ballet for its continuity and artistic relevance, finding out that I loved the creative process in the studio was revelatory. I treasure having work made on me and creating work on others.
- Studio vs. proscenium. I like to be 10 feet away from my audience. It was such a disappointment to realize that my preference for small, intimate spaces probably meant a more limited or invisible career. As my mother said, “You’re not going to be famous.” Having performed on many proscenium or large stages, I had to admit that I needed to “feel” the audience in a visceral way for the dance to feel right.
- Teaching vs. performing. Sometimes you find your calling. Performing isn’t as interesting or fulfilling to me as teaching. I have been told that I do both well, and I have engaged in performing for decades, but my joy comes from studio work: teaching and rehearsing. Letting go of the need to be seen/remembered/appreciated as a dance performer is not easy, but aging really helps! People no longer have expectations, or at least, I think they don’t.
- Attachment to the ephemeral nature of dance. I don’t like photos. I don’t like videos. I appreciate both for the memories and archive that they offer, but . . . there is something “un-dancey” about them. And, thank goodness they exist.
- Love of technique – how things work. This links back into why I love to teach. There is nothing more fulfilling and exciting to me than figuring out “how to get that particular body to do that particular skill,” and “how to get that particular dancer to ‘drop-in’ through movement.”
20s: Early 20s — living part-time in Boston, part-time in New York, and part-time in Princeton, NJ. And I mean part-time. I had great teaching jobs in Boston (Dance Circle, Institute for Contemporary Dance), that allowed me to jump on a train to NYC Wednesday evenings, arrive for rehearsals on Thursdays, Fridays, Saturdays, Sundays, and . . . commute to Princeton Ballet to teach in the evenings. Then Sunday night, I would jump on a train to get back to Boston to teach on Monday mornings. I lived out of my dance bag and got to know train conductors by name. This was a very transitional time for me technically, too – ballet to modern dance. I was so very blessed to fall in with a wonderful crowd of dancers and choreographers – the first graduating class from CalArts. They were trained by Bella Lewitzky and Mia Slavensaka, and brimming with technical information. Thanks to Bill DeYoung, Liz Rosner, Joy Kellman, Susan Rose, and Sue Hogan.
Latter 20s — while on tour with Bill DeYoung, we stopped for a residency at the University of Oregon. Believe it or not, my very first modern dance teacher, T. Ray Faulkner, was on faculty there. After our national tour was completed, I received two offers. One was to go back to NYC and join a well-established dance company, and the other was to join the faculty at U of O to replace someone on sabbatical . . . while completing an M.A. in Dance. I always knew I loved to teach, but this is when I found out that I REALLY loved it. I taught 32 contact hours per week, and then of course, there was the administrative, committee, faculty responsibilities, advising, performing, producing. Only the young ...
With my M.A., I was hired by U of O to join the faculty. I was offered two other jobs, but chose to stay at U of O because of the curriculum: full curriculum in ballet, modern, and folk dance. Nowhere else where I was interviewing had that level of commitment to dance. I was one of the founding company members of Eugene Ballet. Last time I performed en pointe. Thank goodness. I was in Eugene for four years.
30s: There comes a time when you realize that you want more challenge. I loved Eugene, the facilities, the students, the curriculum. But I was pushing 30, and the thought that I would never again be in a studio with dancers who challenged me as a colleague and fellow artist made me seek a change. That’s when I arrived in the Bay Area to teach at Mills College. For three years I taught every course except notation and cultures. Studio classes in all levels of ballet, modern, composition, improvisation, pointe, repertory, etc. And part of the academic curriculum: ballet history, historical overview, graduate level history courses, graduate research, pedagogy, advising, etc. As a history buff, it was breathtaking to be in the studios where so many important 20th Century artists had taught, made work, and performed. But the greatest gift was class size. The advanced modern dance class had only eight students in it. The accompanist, Judy Rosenberg, is one of the finest dance accompanists in the world. What a treat, every single day. And I danced with choreographers making new work: Ellen Bromberg, Emily Keeler, Kathleen McClintock, Wade Madsen, Victoria Morgan, Richard Colton, Alan Ptashek, Krissy Keefer, Alonzo King, Anne Bluethenthal, and Frank Shawl.
I also taught at New Performance Gallery (a precursor of ODC Dance Commons), San Francisco Ballet, San Francisco School of the Arts, The Academy of Ballet, Shawl-Anderson, and a host of other studios. My little repertory company, LAZARUS/dance, existed for about 7-8 years.
40s: After two unfortunate injuries (car accident and ruptured Achilles tendon), I became even more involved in administrative activities in the dance community: Dance Bay Area (at the time, the largest dance service organization in the country) and Bay Area Celebrates National Dance Week. Still teaching, too. I became the Managing Director of the Cowell Theater at Fort Mason, and then the Executive Director of Oakland Ballet. And in my early 40s, I began to work with Cathleen McCarthy on Summerfest/dance (which eventually became WestWave Dance Festival). That was an 18-year stint, and I loved every minute of it. All of these activities were under the umbrella of a 501(c)3 called DanceArt, Inc. founded by Linda Rawlings and me.
Late in my 40s, my husband died. The way I feel now about the COVID-19 devastation to our field is so close to how I felt at that time, and for many years thereafter. There is a kind of grief that opens one up to inquiry and a reordering of perspective. My big question was, “Am I attached to my place in the dance community, or to dance itself?” Asking and answering that question over and over again allowed me to make some choices about the balance of time in the studio and participation in “causes” within our dance community.
50s: 50+ can be a confusing time for dancers, I think. Our field is focused on youth, inventiveness, and astounding virtuosity. So as we age, and especially as women age, we become invisible. A gentle but steady fade. At times I felt tolerated, or that people were disappointed in me. At times I was relieved to be in an audience where nobody knew me. At the same time, I was teaching some of the best classes of my life. When you keep teaching regularly, you keep discovering new things, and you get better at it! Good news! People’s expectations of older dancers can be so low that we are constantly exceeding their expectations and surprising them. I now understand that when I was younger, I probably also treated older people as if they knew little and had little to offer. I can only forgive myself for that now. Not sure I had the self-knowledge to do it differently at the time. I think the chart goes like this, “As estrogen decreases, a woman’s ability to give-a-f_ _ _ also decreases.” Less concern about whether one is being judged. More willingness to ask someone else to demonstrate a skill. A return of curiosity.
60s: Sixties are great. No one has any expectations, but sometimes they “rediscover” you and find out that you don’t mean that you studied Cunningham technique, you mean you studied Cunningham from Cunningham. You studied Graham with Graham. You studied Hawkins with Hawkins. This is why I valued my friendship with Frank Shawl and Victor Anderson so much – they were the LINK in the Bay Area that insisted on being accessible to all. And then, in my 60s, I also spent three years at a dream job as Executive Director of Perry-Mansfield Performing Arts School & Camp in Steamboat Springs. Every floorboard sang with the history of the dancers who had stretched, practiced, and performed on those stages. Stories were everywhere. I had the chance to reunite with my first modern dance teacher and to bring the astounding Lynda Davis and some of our favorite Bay Area artists to camp (Amy Seiwert, Alex Ketley, Keith Terry, Evie Ladin, and many more). And I am performing again, almost by mistake. Sarah Bush Dance Project has dragged me out onto the boards. Thanks!
Rehearsing with Sarah Bush Dance Project. Left to right: Sarah Bush, Joan Lazarus, and Sue Li Jue. Photo by Lisa Harding.
Current training practices and care of the body:
I am trying to take the advice that I give to my students . . . the only thing that correlates with overall health as you age is flexibility.
Safety first – I have nothing to prove.
Floating and watsu and waterdance.
Note: They let you keep the legs, so work ‘em.
Prior to shelter in place, how many classes were you teaching a week and what levels/styles?
9 classes/week. Ballet, Modern Dance, and Repertory. Beginning and Intermediate techniques.
What do you love about teaching?
Figuring things out.
As we are still in shelter in place, what have been the creative puzzles to solve about online Zoom classes?
The Zoom classes are a way to TRY to replicate and retain the relationship that we developed together into that teacher-student ecosystem. At this point, I think it’s definitely worth developing the skills to actually TEACH virtually since technology will continue to advance in every field. However, the puzzle of how to teach each and every student so that they progress and succeed at their own pace requires (at least for now) that I can SEE them in real time, in context, in repetition. Eyes on. Hands on.
What are you enjoying about them, and what do you miss most about teaching in a studio with a room full of students?
I love that the students are muted. Is that terrible to say? In a studio setting, I need to hear and “feel” the dancers, but online, it’s distracting to hear someone and then try to find which little box is speaking, or which dog is barking. So, I love that silence in the virtual field, but dance is live. It’s vibrational. It’s a practice that is handed down, literally. There is currently no substitute for that.
Advice to young dancers just getting into teaching:
First and foremost, visit classes and observe teachers! Those who you like are actually doing something intentionally to make the class structure and pacing work. Analyze it. Copy it. Ask for advice. If you like what someone is up to in the studio, they will be flattered that you want to have tea with them and brainstorm. There is nothing new in the world. They will (want to) share it with you.
- The most difficult level to teach is the beginning level. You actually have to know how to begin… And what you teach those beginners is the foundation for everything they do after that. Big responsibility.
- Get clear on your goals for the class – today and over time.
- Don’t feel you have to entertain.
- Pay attention to how you use your voice.
- Make real eye contact with students, and learn their names.
- If you don’t know the technical progression for teaching something, don’t teach it. Study first.
- We don’t remember how much repetition we experienced in order to master a skill. Don’t be afraid to “do it again.” You don’t have to move on to the next thing in your class plan if your students are on the verge of learning something. Get them there. All students are looking for personal progress and success. You can give it to them by noticing what they need.
- Spend the time to get your accompaniment in order. This is part of your job. If you have a live musician, make sure you know how to demonstrate IN TIME and give information about how you want each exercise to be introduced. If you are working with recorded music, do your homework! You can break the spell and ruin the pacing of the class if you are not ready. It also steals as much as 10 minutes of dancing time to be searching for music.
Longtime colleagues Jane Schnorrenberg, Sue Li Jue, Joan Lazarus, and Laura Elaine Ellis
Please talk about your recent, current, or upcoming choreographic and performing projects.
I am working with a remarkable group of women in an informal repertory group, and we perform about four times each year. These are a wonderful mix of dancers: returning, retired pros, newly arrived, and ready to go beyond the studio class into choreography. Loving it. Can’t wait to get back into the studio with them.
What would you say are some of the biggest changes you have seen in modern dance over the span of your career?
It’s not really changes, it’s cycles. And it’s different streams at the same time. In the 1960s, there was a push to be less virtuosic, more pedestrian, more authentic. But at the same time, a different stream whooshed by with the companies of Graham and Ailey and Limón. They all ran side-by-side. Where would you put Lar Lubovitch, Rudy Perez, Kate Weare, Eiko and Koma, Mark Morris, Yin Yue, Camille A. Brown, and Deborah Slater? I guess what I am saying is that if it’s HONEST, if it COMMUNICATES, if it TOUCHES you and allows you to understand something, it’s wonderful. And it has always existed and will continue to exist. There are people working now who think they discovered minimalism. Well, hate to tell you, but I performed in a piece in 1974 in NYC where I reclined on a chair and applied lip gloss for 20 minutes. I believe it has all existed all the time, and we encounter what we think is “new” when we are ready to see it.
Now, on the other hand, the structure of dance companies and the financial landscape in which dance artists live has altered tremendously since the late 1960s. Don’t get me started.
What are the skills a modern dancer needs in 2020?
Not sure you are going to like this answer but here goes. Modern dancers need all the skills required to communicate through movement. Yes, I mean technical training. We expect it of musicians. We expect it of filmmakers. As a choreographer, I love working with dancers who can make my ideas come to life because they have physical facility.
But who cares about that if the person onstage is not willing to be present, accessible, and REAL? And who cares about someone who is being “genuine” if they keep stumbling and fumbling and slurring the message because they lack skill and rehearsal time? Gotta go for both craft and magic all the time, and it will change and evolve throughout your personal artistic growth. Hopefully. That’s what keeps it so interesting.
You have to know something about the business model in which you participate. Do you want to be the dancer in someone’s company, or do you want to have the skills to help maintain the company itself? Or both? Do you have an interest in the business side of performing arts? If not, FINE. But make sure you present yourself, your work, and your collaborators in a professional way – find out what that means. If you volunteer to help with marketing, make sure you give marketing its due – it is a profession in and of itself. How would you like it if your PR person came to you and said, “I think I could choreograph for the next concert. You need another piece, right?” Make sure your administrative support skills are up to par with your artistic statement, or you may not be taken seriously.
Can you offer three questions for modern dancers around the US to consider?
- Tell me about a performance of yours that stands out in your mind. The one you can still see and feel.
- What do you think you will be doing with dance 15 years from now?
- Who inspires you? Whose concert do you never miss? And why? And how do they do that?!
Last performance you saw that really inspired you:
Liv Schaffer before going to Jacob’s Pillow last year.
Final Thoughts: Hope/belief/love of the profession:
Erick Hawkins said that everyone has a filter or lens through which they see the world.
Visual artists — light.
Musicians — sound.
Poets — language.
Dancers — movement.
He used to talk about the “small dance.” There are times when you can actually feel the molecules and atoms bombarding around inside your skin, you can hear the boom of blood. You are always in motion — the small dance. Dance on.
Joan Lazarus with her repertory group
----------------------------------------