The Dancer Within. Rose Eichenbaum

Index 289

       Foreword

      Audacity sometimes springs from purity of purpose, and the result can be stunning. The Dancer Within, like Rose’s earlier study of the art form, Masters of Movement, owes its existence to her quest to reawaken the long-slumbering dancer within herself.

      Rose found her calling in dance as a teenager after reading Isadora Duncan’s autobiography My Life. In the early 1970s, Rose studied dance at the Reuben Academy in Jerusalem and later earned a master’s degree in dance ethnology at UCLA. Marriage and motherhood followed, thwarting her ambitions. Thirty years of teaching dance did little to quell her quiet longing for performance—the real thing. But at forty-four, an age when most dancers are hanging up their dance shoes, could Rose enter that lost world?

      Her portal was the lens of a camera. Rose discovered her talent for photography as a young mother seeking to record the stages of her children’s lives. She would later study with Leigh Weiner, one of the original Life magazine photographers, with master teacher Bobbi Lane, and others. In 1987 she published her first photos in the award-winning children’s book, The Number on My Grandfather’s Arm. Her debut dance photograph appeared in a 1995 edition of L.A. Dance and Fitness, a magazine aimed at dancers looking for commercial work on the West Coast. Five years later her photos were appearing on the covers of leading national dance magazines.

      As a practical matter, Rose learned that she could get more of her photos published if they illustrated articles, and so began her writing career, which included a column in Dance magazine called “Faces in Dance.” The stage was now set for her first major work, Masters of Movement, a six-year project she initiated in 1998 comprising interviews and photographic portraits of America’s great choreographers. Her goal was to discover the creative thread that defines and drives these artists. With camera in hand, she talked her way into the studios, hotel rooms, and homes of many of the most celebrated figures in the world of dance—from the concert stage and Broadway to Hollywood and television. And she did so with a single-minded determination that prompted choreographer Paul Taylor to remark upon finally consenting to a photo session: “You are the most persistent person I’ve ever met!” That same persistence was at work in the creation of The Dancer Within.

      With few exceptions, Rose’s subjects immediately took her, a stranger, into their confidence, many of them entrusting to her stories of a confessional nature about both their personal and professional lives. In Rose’s presence many of these guarded celebrities shed their armor and masks, revealing their vulnerabilities to one they perceived as their own—a once-aspiring dancer turned photographer/writer but an artist no less. Rose’s interviews reflected her own passion for the dancer’s life, and her thoroughly researched questions demonstrated a level of preparation that endowed her with instant credibility and trustworthiness. Add to that her engaging personality and the rest fell into place.

      Once Rose completed her exploration of the choreographer in Masters of Movement, she turned her attention to the dancer, the instrument of the choreographer’s creative expression. Here again Rose engaged the artists on many levels, challenging them to bear witness to their own lives as dancers and to pass along their insights to new generations of aspiring dancers.

      What does The Dancer Within mean to Rose at this point in her quest to revive the dancer within herself?

      Rose says: “This book is my dance, my choreography, my homage to dancers.”

      How do I know so much about Rose Eichenbaum? Not only have I been her editor and artistic collaborator for many years, I am her brother.

      Aron Hirt-Manheimer

       Ridgefield, Connecticut

      August 2007

       Acknowledgments

      Leonard Crofoot said it so well: “Artists who are lucky enough to be taken care of have the ability to focus on their art without fear for their personal and professional survival.” I am one of those lucky ones. To my husband, Betzalel (Bitzy) who has for more than thirty years helped finance my personal work, encouraged and inspired me to go on when I hit roadblocks and detours, and picked up the slack when traveling kept me away from home for long periods, I am eternally grateful.

      Everyone should have a mother like mine: Adela Manheimer. Ma serves up unconditional love and support with a steady supply of chicken soup with matzoh balls.

      I am most indebted to my editor, creative collaborator, and big brother, Aron—who still takes hold of my hand before we cross the street. Working with a master editor has brought great joy to a process that might otherwise have been a solitary literary journey.

      A very special thanks as well to Editor-in-Chief Suzanna Tamminen and her staff at Wesleyan University Press for embracing this work, for making dance a priority, and for bringing to the table an admirable knowledge and respect for the subject.

      To all of the dancers who contributed to The Dancer Within, I am especially grateful. Their willingness to pose for my lens and share their personal stories is testament to their passion for the art form.

      Many others have supported me in completing this work: Russell Adams of Schulman’s Photo Lab; Lori Belilove of The Isadora Duncan Dance Foundation; Maria Bujones; Business Machines Consultants, Inc.; Connie Chin of Jacob’s Pillow Dance Festival; Lisa Zeno-Churgin; Pamela Cooper, Rachel Cooper of The Asia Society; Christine Dobush; Janet Elber of the Martha Graham Dance Company; Mitzi Gaynor of the Professional Dancers Society; Judy Hirt-Manheimer of the Enchanted Garden Conservatory of the Arts; Judy Kitzman of the Pacific Northwest Ballet, Dena Makarova; Julie McDonald of McDonald/ Selznick Associates; Karen Nelson of UCLA Live!; Caroline Newman of Smithsonian Books, Dale Olson; my agent Lynne Rabinoff, Elka Samuels Smith of Divine Rhythm Productions, and Renae Williams of the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion.

       The Dancer Within

       Yuriko (Anemiya Kikuchi)

      “Come in,” Yuriko said, opening her front door partway to prevent her cat from escaping. I slid through the narrow space, blocking the door’s entrance with my foot. “Please make yourself comfortable. I’m not quite finished dressing. I’ll be right out.”

      I put my camera bag down on a low bench and began to survey Yuriko’s living room. An assortment of Japanese masks, miniature figurines, and geisha dolls populated shelves and cases, lining the walls. The furniture consisted of one blue upholstered chair flanked by several floor cushions with back supports, like the kind you take to the beach. On the wall behind the blue chair hung Barbara Morgan’s famous photograph of Martha Graham known as “The Kick.” I was admiring a beautiful hand-sewn kimono displayed on another wall when Yuriko walked into the room.

      “You have some lovely things.”

      “Many of those dolls belonged to my mother. They are over a hundred years old. Come, please sit,” she said gesturing me toward the blue chair. “I prefer to sit on the floor.”

      “Yuriko, when did you first know that you’d become a dancer?”

      “I knew it from my very first dance step. I was six years old. I was young but I knew. I’ve had a most interesting life. I was born in San Jose, California, in 1920, but was sent to live with relatives in Japan when I was three. My mother thought she could save me from the influenza that had killed two of my sisters and my father. I returned to California