I was born in Cedar City, Utah into a home in which there was always music. My mother was a pianist of concert quality, who chose to marry and raise her children in a small town in southern Utah rather than going on the performing circuit. From dawn to dusk there was music in our house...either women’s or men’s solos, trios or quartets practicing, young students taking piano lessons, the often painful sounds of me and/or my siblings practicing on the piano, violin, trombone or drums, or mom herself practicing her scores for the opera, the choir, an assembly or church services. The music ranged from Lead Belly (Huddie William Ledbetter) and other African American spirituals, which my mother loved, to ballads and folk songs, to Puccini or Verdi or Gershwin, Bach, Brahms, Mozart or Rachmaninoff. My father’s business was ranching; he raised cattle and sheep, and he was also a grocery story and farm implement owner. We lived on a farm until I was 5, when we moved the three miles into town. Both of my parents came from Mormon pioneer stock who believed in the value of work, and so we kids also had our chores: on the farm, in the grocery store, at home or herding the sheep and cattle on the mountain range. And we did them all through our elementary, junior high and high school days. And because I had a pleasant, fragile high voice and loved to sing (as did my dad), mom made sure that I was able to take voice lessons from a wonderful teacher at the college.
My true love was m o v i n g. It didn’t matter where or what kind…from playing roughhouse games with the boys, to climbing trees, to sliding down haystacks, to running after my dad’s truck down the lane, to spinning until I dropped, to taking tap dance classes when I was five, to learning simple folk dances in the 4th grade (thanks to that teacher) to “dancing” as a street urchin in the opera Carmen while in junior high, to running races, and bases, to jumping the high jump, to running down the floor bouncing a basketball, to jumping from building-to-building rooftops downtown (they were close together) to going to the Friday afternoon dances in high school where we learned the Waltz, One Step, Black Bottom, Foxtrot, and Charleston, to dancing in a small performing group all of the dances of the 20s and 30s at anytime at anyone’s request. I just knew that movement made me feel really alive, and it was through the motion of my body that I understood myself.
I attended Branch Agricultural College, a two year Liberal Arts College in Cedar. It was during this time that several things happened which gave direction to the course of my life. A lovely talented woman named LaVeve Whetten, the dance teacher at the high school who had formed the small dance group in which I participated, also was the dance teacher at the College. Hooray! There was a sizable group of girls to whom she taught modern technique, dance improvisation, a sort of Apache dancing (which was appealing to the boys since they got to toss the girls around), and she encouraged us to choreograph. She had had very little in the way of “in- depth” formal dance training but what she did have was energy, enthusiasm, love and encouragement. We all loved her and what we were doing. We all felt good about ourselves and would do anything for her.
By that time I had become a fairly accomplished singer and had toyed with the thought of going into music… had performed with the College opera in both La Boheme and Carmen as the coloratura...which for me meant moving while you were singing. However, I discovered that no matter how much I loved to sing, when your voice cracks you just have to grin and bear it, while in dance you can improvise to cover up “incidents” that might happen and make them look intended. So for me…dance it was.
LaVeve had met a woman named Marge H’Doubler at the University of Wisconsin where she had studied during a summer course. She became determined in her heart that this was the school that I should attend. She saw the deep love of dance that I had and felt responsible that I should have an opportunity of growth and nurturing in one of the best dance Universities in the country at the time. She went to my parents and pleaded with them to send me to Madison to school. That was a big deal in those days…my family wasn’t wealthy, and Dad said, “How are you going to earn a living through dancing?” But in the end he relented, and by the next September, just before I turned 21, I was on a train to Chicago, changed trains to Madison, moved into a dorm at 444 Langdon in the dark of night, went to bed and cried all night. I was so scared and lonely. But not for long.
Those four years of study at the University of Wisconsin were totally life changing. I received both my BS and MS degrees there. The dance program was at that time housed in the Physical Education Department and therefore awarded the BS/MS, not BA/MA. The Chair of the dance program was an amazing woman named Margaret Hogan Doubler --- Miss H’Dee (Huh Dee) we called her. Originally a botanist and remarkable athlete in the PE Department, Miss H’Dee was the woman who founded the creative modern dance division at Wisconsin after two years of hectic studying in N.Y. (at the suggestion of the then chair of the PE Department, Miss Blanch Trilling). She was searching for teachers of dance who understood that dance was a means to unleash the creative spirit of the human being and through which they could find their own creative voice. And when she found them she returned to Madison and gathered a formidable faculty around her, among them a woman named Louise Kloepper, who had studied with Mary Wigman and danced professionally with Hanya Holm. These two fabulous women in particular instilled in me the concept that dance is for every human being and that everyone, from the cradle to the grave, should dance. I came away from Madison feeling like a “dance suffragette”…I was to carry my dance banner to the ends of the earth. I guess somehow I’ve never lost that mission.
Ah, there’s more about Madison. Louise had kept close communication with Mary Wigman, since studying with her in Germany in the late 20s and then dancing with Hanya in New York in the 30s and early 40s. After WWII, Mary was living in Dresden teaching dance in a room in her house with her bedroom upstairs. She had written to Louise that the dancers who came to work with her often were so poor that they could not afford to buy dance clothes. On several occasions we dance students at the U. collected leotards and dance paraphernalia to be sent to Mary, who in 1948 fled from Russian occupied Dresden to a location in the American Sector in Berlin.
Louise was such a remarkable technique teacher and gorgeous dancer that I became intrigued and began to question what her training had been with Mary and Hanya. To get closer to the source, in the summer of 1949, I decided to go study with Hanya Holm in Colorado Springs. There I met Alwin Nikolais, Hanya’s assistant and former company dancer, and again my life was indelibly changed, or should I say enriched and etched, because it had already begun to define its course. In Nik’s improvisation and choreography classes he talked about the elements of dance as he perceived them…elements which all human movements share…it happens in “time"...it happens in “space”...it is designed with various "shapes”...and it embodies various “motional” qualities. We improvised and created studies with these concepts as prime. He also encouraged us to find our own unique voice, as he called it…“the unique gesture.” This along with Hanya’s beautifully developed and inspiring technique classes, plus with Miss H’Dee’s philosophy that everyone is creative and everyone should dance, became a very powerful force for me and has guided my philosophy, vision and passion in dance since that day.
Upon graduating from the U. of Wisconsin, I accepted a position as the first full time modern dance teacher at the University of Utah in the dance division chaired by Elizabeth R. Hayes, also a Wisconsin graduate. Through Betty, I met Shirley Ririe, who was then teaching at BYU after having graduated from N.Y.U, and also studying in N.Y with Nikolais. Shirley and I immediately became friends forever. We shared the same philosophy and wanted the same things...we both wanted to dance, we both wanted to choreograph, we wanted to teach and we believed that the dance experience should start with the child, and…. we believed in the power of improvisation as a choreographic tool and as the means to awaken in the dancers their own individuality. In 1972, shortly after my marriage to Charles Woodbury, Shirley and I, along with several other professional and semi professional dancers, formed a small collective company called “Choreodancers." We began to create works and perform throughout Utah and surrounding states.
During this time my interest in Wigman had not waned. In fall of 1954, thinking it a long shot, I applied at-large for a Fulbright Scholarship to study dance with Mary Wigman. Elatedly, in the spring I was informed that I had received the first Fulbright scholarship ever, to study Dance. And, as luck would have it, I also found out that I was pregnant. Charlie agreed that we should go to Berlin, and in late August, while eight months pregnant, we boarded the MS Italia, a German liner bound for Bremerhaven. My son Todd was born at the end of September, and after two weeks I began classes with Wigman. There is a blessed wonderment in naïve enthusiasm.
The pleasure, the awe, the learning curve, the amazement, and the gratitude I felt for that year of study with this amazing artist cannot ever be measured. I had often to pinch myself to remind me that I was in her presence. Mary at 70 had become a generous and incredible teacher. As a younger artist I understand she had quite a different personae. She shared her wisdom with us, inspired us with her critiques of our work, and told her life stories: about her youth, her time with Von Laban, her choreography and first public performances, her love of visits to Western America, what happened to her when the Nat’l Socialists came into power, her final flight from the Russian occupied Dresden to the American Sector in Berlin to start a new school in 1948. We studied techniques that related to the use of hands and arms, the total body (chest, waist and hips)....the space around high, medium, low, diagonal….the ecstasy of the circle and the turn both stationary and moving through space…. the use of the legs and feet while walking, running, and becoming airborne… jumping, leaping thrusting the body in space. We improvised and made choreographies with various subject matters that were more expressionistic than abstract in nature. Subjects were such as breaking barriers, greed, the toll of aging, the wanderers, joy, brilliant light, etc. I felt that I had gone backwards in time to the “well spring" --- the source, the root of the dance that I had experienced and adopted thus far in my life.
Charlie and I came back to the US to live in Park City, Utah, and with a one year old boy, and I didn’t relish going back to the U to full time teaching. I asked Elizabeth Hayes if I could split the job with Shirley who had a two year old girl. Both Elizabeth and Shirley were delighted. For the next few years our lives were filled with teaching dance classes of all sorts…ballroom dance, modern dance technique, percussion, improvisation, choreography (teaching almost full time to help develop a full time dance department)...choreographing, producing concerts, and growing and raising my family by the birth of another boy Jeff and a girl Jena. Around this time we became full time, inviting Alwin Nikolais to teach summer sessions in Utah for 5 years, forming Ririe-Woodbury Dance Company, touring (on weekends, school holidays and summers), and getting accepted into the newly formed National Endowment for the Arts in 1972, which made it financially possible to become a full time company. Eventually I cut my university teaching down to 1/3 time so that I could spend time helping the Company to survive and flourish. Those years…the 60s through the 70s…were what many artists call “The Golden Years.” Actually, they’ve all been great, though it has been more difficult to manage Company finances, particularly in the late 80s and 90s, than in those early NEA years.
You ask, "What do I think? What do I feel?" I’ve been soooooo lucky in every step of my career. I should have started this little remembrance journey right here. I was lucky to have been where I was, when I was. In my 88th year, I still adore the dance and am beholden to the training which the Wigman, Holm, Nikolais, Louis technique has afforded me. Nik gave me great opportunities to learn from him. First, during his five years teaching at our summer workshops where we sort of taught side-by-side (I’d teach the beginning classes and he the advanced and then we’d come together for creative showings), and then he invited me to come to various places to teach for and/or with him…in his studios in New York where I taught for about 6 summers, and afterwards for workshops in Minneapolis, Tampa, in Avignon and Angers, France, and Surrey, England.
On the subject of collaboration:
The art of collaborating refers to a very special activity and skill for me. As I think about it, I guess I've been collaborating with other amazing people throughout my entire career, sometimes with more success than others. There was a wonderful collaboration between Elizabeth Hayes, Shirley Ririe and me starting in 1956 and lasting for about 10 years, as we were beginning to determine the direction of and building of the Dance Department at the University of Utah. The three of us, along with Maurine Dewsnup, envisioned and built upon our dreams of what could be possible. Shirley and I also collaborated to start and grow a dance company together. For me, collaboration means sharing dreams, ideas and responsibilities. It means that what emerges from collaboration is something that could not have happened without the collective ideas of those who are involved. It is not just give and take….you do this....I'll do that...even though that is of course part of it. It is wholehearted naive, learned, passionate and impassioned discussing, dreaming, listening, allowing, suggesting, sharing, and "what-if-ing"....planning, trying, evaluating, so that the product which evolves is truly an amalgamation and a new birth through the process, not just singular ideas patched together. I feel that in order for a collaboration to succeed you have to love and respect the person(s) with whom you are working. And you have to share the same dreams...Shirley and I both were passionate about dancing...we wanted to perform first and foremost, and the only way that we saw that we could do that in Salt Lake City in the 50s and 60s was to form our own company. Both of us wanted to teach, we both wanted to choreograph and we both shared the same philosophy that dance is for everyone...that improvisation is a means to discovering the self, that the language of the motion of the human body is the most basic art form, and that experience of dance should begin with the child. As individuals we were very different. We had different strengths and different weaknesses, and we knew that it was these differences that made the collaboration more exciting, challenging and delightful. We never could have done what we did throughout our careers if we hadn’t brought to the table what we were and respected each other's differences.
About forming a company today:
I would always say, "Go for it!!" Just don't expect things to happen all at once. When we first started Ririe-Woodbury Dance Company, encouraged by Alwin Nikolais (by the way), it took almost 10 years before the company became a full time company. And that only really happened because of the formation of the National Endowment for the Arts in 1972, which through an audition, selected Ririe-Woodbury Dance Company for two major National Programs. As I mentioned, when we began the Company, Shirley and I were teaching at the University of Utah, which meant that we each were salaried (though not spectacularly). We were working in our chosen art form, were both married with children, and had husbands who were very supportive. We worked with gifted students and semi-professional dancers in the late evenings (working in the upstairs dance studio in the gym building after the students were finished with their own rehearsals, which meant we started at 10:00 pm.); we also worked on weekends. Thankfully, we were not charged for those rehearsal spaces. None of the talented dancers with whom we worked expected to be paid. They worked together with us because they loved dance and wanted to be a part of a fledgling company. Shirley and I became our own managers and booking agents, and scheduled performances of the small, new company with a series called the Granite Arts Series in Salt Lake City. We also performed at the University of Utah and at BYU, where Shirley had previously taught, and arranged tours with dancer friends of ours who were teaching in various colleges and universities throughout the Western States. At the end of the first year, we remember paying each of the six dancers $100 after all of our travel and housing expenses were paid...everyone was very excited about that. And then, as we had done to get started, Shirley and I each put $500 into a kitty to pay for the costumes for the next year.
Just remember that in those days, there were no modern dance companies in Salt Lake City. Willam Christensen had arrived at the University of Utah the same year I arrived in 1951, at which time the ballet was housed in the Theater Department. So, Ballet West had its own growth period as well as did we. The dance company which we started in 1964 was very new to Salt Lake City. Now, 50 odd years later, it is a very different time, though also very exciting. All sorts of small new dance companies are forming and finding their own voice and niche in the City, and there are also many new venues around the city in which to perform. It is very gratifying and offers the sort of variety which is enlivening and pleasing to the appetites of today’s dance/music/theatre lovers.
On the subject of teaching:
I am always a little shocked or perhaps saddened to see workshops advertised for "dancers in transition," with the implication being...transitioning OUT of the field. My constant advice and pleasure is to see dancers stay IN the field and to continue their involvement in ways dictated by their interests, training, talent and capacity. During all of our years directing Ririe-Woodbury Dance Company and teaching at the University of Utah, both Shirley and I felt it a great necessity for dancers to get as much training and experience as performers, teachers and choreographers as possible. Dancers in our company have always been given opportunities to learn to teach and choreograph during their performing tenure with us. And of course there are many other areas in which dancers can become expert and continue to contribute to the field.
The artist/teacher is a rare bird and is extremely valuable for the survival of the art form. A teacher who educates dancers encourages curiosity, critical and creative thinking, exploration, improvisation, technical growth and dance making. This person is the one who nurtures the artists of tomorrow. I have studied with many artist/teachers, and the ones who have inspired and changed my life are those who treat each technique class (in fact any class) as a journey in the motional development of an idea or concept, not just a series of unrelated technical phrases to learn. They make sure that the participants are involved --- physically, psychically, emotionally, creatively, spiritually and communally. In a well-developed technique class, I have always admired the class which begins with the dancer either sitting or lying on the floor, where he/she is relieved from the pull of gravity, and can move the body and its parts with an understanding of how the human skeleton is built and thus is able to move…what it can and cannot do...without having to worry about falling. I also feel that there always needs to be a conceptual point of view which relates to one or more elements upon which to concentrate. Then the activities can develop and become more varied, complicated and challenging, gradually bringing the dancers to their feet.
When upright and vertical with the body, now influenced by the pull of gravity, they begin stationary activities working on verticality... placement, balance and strength … the relationship of the feet, knees, hips, lower back, chest, top of the head, etc. There are a myriad of technical ideas which could speak to the timing of a simple gesture of the leg for instance, the size, scope and weight of it, its relationship to space, its motional quality and any number of ideas which the teacher has in mind for the class of the day, always clarifying and simplifying. After setting the subject matter, the phrases begin to develop from short, and perhaps simple to complex, gradually adding more complication physically, spatially and/or rhythmically as the dancers come across the floor. This gradual development allows the dancers to really understand and “dance" the material because they understand it, rather than just trying to copy or mimic long phrases which have been given to them all at once at the beginning. Usually the classes then end climactically in some form of running, leaping, or jumping gloriously. I think with great fondness on my greatest technique teachers…. Nik, Murray, Hanya, Louise and Mary...even though I have taken classes from many other wonderful dance artists.
Just some random thoughts.....
Dance is still my passion, though I haven't really danced much on the stage since I had my first hip replacement in the late seventies, or early eighties….I can’t remember quite when. I still “horse around” dancing for myself to any music with a good beat, and take great pleasure in all of the wonderful sensations of finding new ways to explore those body parts which still seem to work. But, it is no secret that as you age and become more of an observer than performer you seem to become more critical. And because I long to be really moved and touched by dancers and dance choreography, I find that I watch dance with a more selective eye. Alwin Nikolais used to say something to this effect: "A good performer can save a bad dance. A bad performer can't actually ruin a good dance. And a good dancer performing a good dance is magnifique." So, when I find I am unimpressed with the choreography I look for that wonderful performer who has a spark, who seems to love being inside his/her own body, who takes such pleasure in the work, understands and articulates the gestures and brings such personae to it that I am drawn in. And then, there are those rare times when the dance is so brilliantly conceived, structured, developed and performed that I am enrapt with the beauty of it, and I come away totally dance-sated. Such a dance for me is "States Rendered," which Doug Varone choreographed, in collaboration dancer/video artist Ellen Bromberg, for the Ririe-Woodbury Dance Company in 2014. It touched me to the core. It is exquisitely crafted, and I must also add, exquisitely danced. It is one of the most evocative, powerful and successful dance/video/sound collaborations that I have ever seen.
Just a little reiteration:
My studies with these amazing artists I have mentioned --- Whetten, H’Doubler, Holm, Nikolais and Louis --- inspired me throughout my lifetime...and through their influence and life’s work I have formed my penchant for elegantly designed and unique choreography, the understanding and use of "time, shape, space and motion" in my teaching and hopefully in my choreography, the understanding of and belief in the uniqueness of each individual and their capacity for creativity, plus my desire and passion to help dance become a valued art form in the eyes of every individual with whom I come in contact, and the overriding philosophy that “dance is for everybody.”
Also, throughout my career I have been influenced by the dancers who have shared the journey with me, first and foremost Shirley Ririe, from whom I have learned and experienced so much. And, in the 70s, when we were first learning what it meant to be a full time company, dancers Phyllis Haskell (Tims), Donna McConnell (White), Doris Hudson (Trujillo), Lynn Topovski, Dee Winterton, Clark Stookey, Robin Johnson, and Dennis Wright. They not only made it so fun and exciting to be in the field; they also greatly influenced what we did and how we worked.
Some of them are gone and the rest are still (thankfully) very active in the field. And, every other dancer who has joined Shirley and me throughout the Company’s 52 years also had great input upon my thinking, some of course more than others. The beautiful dancers in the Company today come with so much more physical training and facility than any of us had in the early years, and they also have the same Great Spirit as others before them and are a joy and delight. It is exciting to see just how much they can do physically. Wow!
As I step away from the actual management of the company and just look around in the office, I become very aware of what really goes on to keep a full-time company alive and kicking. Of course, it goes to say, I recognize, admire, and applaud the Artistic Director, the dancers, the lighting designer and folks involved with the productions --- those who get all of the applause. But I now find myself awed by those capable people behind the scenes (who are often the unsung heroes), from the Executive Director who manages the whole shebang and assures that the vision of the Company is kept alive (a position now held by Jena Woodbury, to whom I am very grateful), to the person who, a) directs and maintains the educational programming, b) raises funds for programming, maintenance and longevity, c) informs the public and keeps audiences coming, d) secures and manages the company touring, e) manages and controls the finances. The talents, enthusiasm and dedication of everyone involved in the company’s management is absolutely core to the working and longevity of an organization. Brava and accolades to all of you everywhere.
Things I hear myself saying often of late:
I am tired of seeing "run-on-verb dances." Many choreographers seem never to use an adjective, a noun, a comma, a colon and heavens forbid a period in their movement vocabulary. Haven't they discovered that "silence frames motion," giving the eye of the dancer and the observer a moment of pause to catch the value and quality of the moment?
What happened to understanding how to perform a gesture...the weight of it, the size and the quality and length and sensation of it, and how the performer wants the audience to see it? Much of the contemporary dance today seems to be very personal and often does not cross beyond the proscenium.
Where is the sense of space…the grandeur or minuteness of it....the going forward, the backward and sidewaysness of it? And where is the elegance of the dancer standing in verticality within the space? Where is the sternum? I miss the recognition, definition, delineation and use of space in so many of the dancers and choreographers today.
We know that the early modern dancers like Isadora Duncan, Ruth St. Denis and Ted Shawn and their early protégées broke from the ballet and began to go down toward the ground and use the floor. And now today’s choreographers seem to have a penchant for having their dancers spend a great deal of time rolling and gesturing on the floor rather than dancing on their feet. Even Humphrey Bogart knew how to tap.
Doesn't anyone take tap dancing any more? Look at the films of all of those dancers in the 20s and 30s. They all had great rhythm and great feet. A lot of dancers don't know how to count today. Tap dancing and/or music lessons might help do the trick.
How I pay the bills:
I’ve managed, after 47 years of teaching at the University of Utah, 52 years of involvement with a dance company (much of that simultaneously), and being old enough to collect social security, to have a bit of retirement available to me. And, should times get bad, I’ll just set up a little “Dime a Glance Dance Performance” Thursday nights on my porch on University Street.
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Related posts:
Daniel Charon, current Artistic Director of Ririe-Woodbury: http://blog.lifeasamoderndancer.com/2013/08/artist-profile-36-daniel-charon-salt-lake-city-ut.html
Donna White, former company member: http://blog.lifeasamoderndancer.com/2015/05/artist-profile-99-donna-white-salt-lake-city-ut.html
A Modern Dancer's Guide to....Salt Lake City: http://blog.lifeasamoderndancer.com/2015/06/a-modern-dancers-guide-tosalt-lake-city-utah.html
Alumni of the University of Utah: http://blog.lifeasamoderndancer.com/2015/04/program-spotlight-the-university-of-utahs-department-of-modern-dance.html
The dance artists of Ririe-Woodbury: http://blog.lifeasamoderndancer.com/2015/02/the-dance-artists-of-ririe-woodbury-dance-company.html
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What an absolutely glorious post!!! Even though I have known Joan for over 45 years, I still was given insights into her life and artistry. It captures perfectly the experience of so many dancers of our generation...a legacy that has brought us to where we are today. Thank you so much for this shimmering love story to dance.
Posted by: Phyllis Haskell Tims | 10/22/2015 at 07:55 AM
Joan, what an amazing artist, educator, person, and iconic figure you are! What a life you have had and you are still going strong, planning new projects, teaching inspirational classes, and living life fully as if there was no tomorrow. I loved reading every word of this memoir and consider it an honor to have lived some of those moments with you and the other incredible dancers with whom we've shared a truly glorious era in the dance of life.
Posted by: Donna White | 10/22/2015 at 10:20 AM
Magnifique, Joan! Magnifique!
Posted by: Tammy Metz Starr | 10/22/2015 at 04:16 PM
My dear, you are still such a magnificent spokesperson for Dance. Your passion for movement seeps into every phrase you write. You were one of the people who convinced me I should dance and for that I wil ever be grateful. Your commitment to Terpsichore has mesmerized several generations of dancers. We love you and continually try to inspire the next generation of dancers (even if they're rollin' on the floor...) of what a magnificent opportunity it is to have dance in your life. Many thanks....
Posted by: Gregg Lizenbery | 10/22/2015 at 07:15 PM
Wow! I am so proud and inspired to continue to follow your steps. I am so thankful to call you my second mom. I am un doubtfully thankful. Great post.
Posted by: Juan Carlos Claudio | 10/22/2015 at 08:03 PM
My influential teachers still haunt and Illuminate my dreams. Joan you are there and in my heart. Thanks for all you have given me, including your recommendation to study with Mary Wigman on a Fulbright. Sill following in your footsteps, even as mine have differed to include butoh and other. You were the first to encourage my writing, which continues as a passion now.
Posted by: Sondra Fraleiigh | 10/23/2015 at 11:09 AM
How fortunate I have been to have been in your pathway. I am what I am having spent time with you, Shirley and Dee. This post enlivened me. Made me want to continue dancing, living.
Posted by: Pat Debenham | 10/24/2015 at 10:36 AM
Joan, this is a gift. Thank you for sharing your story! It was such a joy to read; I could imagine you speaking every word. The dance community is so fortunate to have you as its champion, and I feel fortunate beyond measure to have shared the space with you for a short while. I am ever grateful...
Posted by: Jill Patterson | 10/25/2015 at 08:39 AM
Oh Joan, what an incredible post! My heart burst open when I read it. You are the quintessential dance artist, teacher, choreographer, and mentor. You have impacted the lives of so many people over the years, including mine. You have mentored, encouraged, motivated, and inspired me, for which I am forever grateful. Thank you for your deep legacy!
Posted by: Abby Fiat | 10/28/2015 at 11:35 AM
Joan is allowing me to share this with students and colleagues. It is so inspirational. All these decades I have known Joan, I really found out the gaps that I had that I failed to realize in her marvelous career. Makes going into retiring much more joyful, for I know the
skills she gave me in dance and in living life to its fullest will continue on a whole different journey in my future pursuits. Bless you Joan for all that you have given us!
Posted by: Eric Nielsen | 12/10/2015 at 12:19 PM
Joan,
How inspiring to read your story. Perhaps I can add my perspective as someone who studied for two years at the U of U and got my MFA with you as my advisor. You have an amazing understanding of what dance is or should be. But you can also read your students and reach out in kindness to keep them on track. Your guiding hand planted the seed of dance in my heart allowing me to continue on this wonderful journey called life with movement as my northern star. I have transitioned from modern and ballet performer to Lindy Hopper and ballroom dancer but I’ve never stopped moving. As head of the dance department at City College of San Francisco I am in my 24th year teaching there full time. Thank you for the seed and love for without it I might be selling used cars.
David Blood
Posted by: David E. Blood | 03/06/2016 at 05:58 PM
Joan, What inspiring writing! Thank you! I learned many specific details about your life that make me better understand the strength and focus of your work as artist and human being. Near the end, where you speak of the need for silence, it reminds me of several things I also learned from my many years of working with Marcel Marceau - that mime is about the weight of the soul, suspended in time, allowing silence and stillness to universally speak the truth of a moment and an entire work. I am so grateful for the shoulders on which I stand, and I am so thankful for growing up in SLC and dancing with Virginia Tanner and the many great teachers at the U of U - including you! You continue to provide an excellent example to all of us for how to MOVE forward in our lives as artists and human beings. Sincerely, Jeanine Thompson
Posted by: Jeanine Thompson | 06/16/2016 at 10:13 AM