Also, pizza.
I am living in history. This was my thought as the curtain went up and the music started.
I had the honor of attending the Paul Taylor Memorial Performance at Lincoln Center on Monday night. I want to tell you how special it was but I need to talk about pizza first so we can all understand just HOW special. Paul Taylor was NOT a pizza artisan. Just listen.
So it’s widely agreed that Lombardi had the first pizza place in New York City since he was the first to apply for a permit for a pizza oven. The now-famous Patsy, John, and Antonio (Totonno) all worked with Lombardi at some point and then went off to open places of their own. All four of these restaurants still exist in some way. Another icon, Grimaldi, was Patsy’s nephew and also opened his own place (then sold it, regretted selling it, and opened Juliana’s next door but that’s a different story). Just remember that Grimaldi is a third generation pizza master, descended directly from the greats. All of these men influenced what NYC pizza is today and Grimaldi is still with us as a direct connection to our delicious past. This is why NY is such an incredible city. We are living in history.
Paul Taylor is the Grimaldi of American modern dance. If contemporaries Isadora Duncan (who started it all on the beaches of California) and Ruth St. Denis (together with her husband, Ted Shawn) represent Lombardi, then students Martha Graham and Doris Humphrey can represent say…Patsy and John. Paul Taylor, who trained with Graham, not only shares third-generation status with Grimaldi but both gentlemen worked tirelessly at their crafts well into their eighties bringing joy, art, and culture to the masses. Paul Taylor was with us until just last year and through his company will continue to connect us to the greats. That, specifically, was his intent in his last few years and it will be his legacy. In recent years he added “American” to the name of his company and started staging classic dances from other modern dance companies as well as having other dance companies perform alongside his own in an effort to keep the history of the genre alive. Thanks to Paul, I was able to see dances performed live that I had only ever read about. They were incredible gifts of time travel I will forever be grateful for. It’s like going to Lombardi’s or Grimaldi’s for the first time and tasting “real pizza.”
So I had the absolute honor of attending Paul Taylor’s Memorial Performance at Lincoln Center. It’s only because I have excellent (if not also morbid timing). Last year I donated (a fairly small amount of money) to Paul Taylor American Modern Dance. I donated in the name of my own dance mentor, who is still teaching ballet and modern technique, choreography, and dance history to students at SUNY Geneseo. Jonette Lancos is herself
So, because I donated a tiny bit as a gesture of appreciation to both Paul and Jonette, and it happened to
I had about five minutes to communicate with my guest about what we would be seeing. I babbled out a brief history of Paul Taylor’s having a swimming background- so look for the V shapes, and the arms moving with the torso, and the feeling of moving through water (I realize this is a lot to ask of a newbie but if you are going to sit next to me you are going to learn something). Look for the structure! Every one of Mr. Taylor’s pieces could be an example to any choreography class on how to use lines, groups, and levels to great effect regardless of what the actual movements are. Look for humanity. Paul Taylor dancers are people like you and me. They are not sent by the gods to enthrall and impress- instead they are here to inspire. To give the impression that all of us could just get off the couch and be dancers if we choose. (We can be)! In fact, I have
So we arrive and we sit. I see in the program that I have not seen any of the pieces being shown which is both exciting and disappointing. I watch, enraptured, wondering what it’s like for the dancers to perform someone’s own art as a memorial to them. I cry several times in case they can’t. I take some time at intermission to share with my guest the dance history lineage above. And try to articulate how incredible it is for us to be here. When we return to our seats, I gush with the woman next to me who had the privilege of seeing my favorite modern dance piece of all time,
The new artistic director, also a lover of dance history, speaks about Mr. Taylor and we are all confident the legacy will continue. I cry again. We watch the final piece (which incidentally I didn’t love) but I appreciate the theme and its importance. After final curtain, a steady stream of dancers come out in twos to place long-stemmed lilies under a large projected photo of their mentor. There is lots of hugging. And of course, crying.
We leave immediately after bc I didn’t donate quite enough to be invited to the champagne reception. We go to dinner and order champagne instead. We toast a wonderful, important evening and I pull one of my most prized possessions out of my bag. It’s time for show and
One summer after college I was invited by a friend to work as a counselor at a state-wide sleep-away dance program for high school students. I was in charge of a small tribe of aspiring dancers and as a perk of the gig, I got to take class with them from industry professionals. Carolyn Adams, an early member of the Taylor company and the first black woman to dance with them was the founding artistic director of the summer program. She was intelligent, poised, and talented. She was
On the last day of camp, right before I set off to graduate school where I would train to be a speech-language pathologist, Carolyn gave each of the staff a small journal, empty but for an inscription inside the front cover. I pull out the journal at dinner now, twenty-two years later, and hand it across the table to share. At the time, it was the perfect note to help me transition to the next phase of my life.
Dear Eileen,
Your energy and enthusiasm greeted me on many a potentially bleak morning. I hope your lovely positive outlook will bring you joy and success.
Your dancing does fine justice to your gracious demeanor.
Have a great year,
Carolyn
I interpret the end there as… you dance as you are. Or, you are as you dance. Either way works. I would try to keep this sentiment alive, though at times it was more difficult than others, to remind myself that dance would always be a part of my being whether I was physically in a studio or not.
I refuse to write anything in this journal. Those words are enough. I come across it every time I move which is perfect. At the start of each new endeavor, it’s important to be reminded of who I am at my core.
Perhaps in 25 years, there will be an anniversary concert and I will tell the young person next to me that I had the honor of being at Paul Taylor’s Memorial Performance in 2019. And that no, I didn’t dance professionally but I took classes when I could and attended performances as often as I could afford. And that I continuously try to live with grace. And that yes, that counts.
Cheers to Paul Taylor and to all who toil to keep the great works of the masters alive- whether it is pizza, dance, art, music- so that they can continue to inspire present and future generations. And to those of us who toil to keep that influence alive within ourselves.
My new dance history student, by the way, did an excellent job spotting the motifs we discussed on the way to the show as well as identifying others. And, if you are wondering… he DID dance at least part of the way home. ————————————
My favorite section of my favorite dance piece, Esplanade, choreographed by Paul Taylor, here.
My empty but for the inscription journal, by the way, lives on the same shelf as my Free to Bee album.