Everybody Say Hallelujah: the Burlington, Vermont, residency

The cast of "Hallelujah: In Praise of Constancy in the Midst of Change"

EASTSIDE STORY: BURLINGTON

Hallelujah: In Praise of Constancy in the Midst of Change
Liz Lerman Dance Exchange
Flynn Center for Performing Arts, Burlington, Vermont
March 16, 2001

In the Midst of Change

The Burlington "Hallelujah" was much larger than the L.A. project. More than 80 people, ages 8 to 94, appeared on the huge proscenium stage at the Flynn Center for the Performing Arts in downtown Burlington, after more than 65 hours of rehearsal. Part of a larger audience-building project for the Flynn, the Vermont project, "Hallelujah: In Praise of Constancy in the Midst of Change," arose from four years of regular residency visits by the Dance Exchange throughout central Vermont.

The themes of the new work emerged around tensions between Vermont's legendary conservative steadfastness and the politically progressive tendencies of the majority of its voters. Especially important were the controversial consequences of two of those generous liberal beliefs: that Vermont should open its arms to political refugees from other countries, and that same-sex marriage should be sanctioned. Personal feelings around the struggle to make room in one small state for such moral spaciousness provided "Hallelujah" with its material.

The performance opened with "In Praise of Animals and Their People," a delightful anchor work created for "Hallelujah" in 1999, featuring the company, local residents and a trio of performing hounds, the all-American Fly Dogs. This piece took the place of the more formal "Gates of Praise," and offered stories and dances about bugs, salamanders, horses and the death of Lerman's own cat. It featured touching performances by Vermont fathers and their daughters.

Act II was the new "constancy" piece, performed by the company, local dancers, elderly card players and pairs of lovers of various sexual preferences. (See program) The "card girls," as they were affectionately called, were a central element of both the residency and the performance, playing cards on stage almost throughout the work. Lerman became aware of their existence when one of the participants had to leave a Monday residency event because she had an appointment: She had been playing cards with the same group of women every Monday night for 40 years. When Lerman and company observed the game, they recognized it as a storytelling event, and incorporated it into the work as a symbol of constancy, and of the steadfast character of the Vermonters they were working with.

The card-players’ presence on stage provided a sense of history and tradition, and their juxtaposition with same-sex couples lovingly reciting the Song of Solomon to each other graphically illustrated the radical contrasts engendered when Vermont passed a law allowing "civil unions" of such "nontraditional" couples. (The law is still being fought in the courts. As I drove around the countryside, evidence of the struggle was apparent in signs posted at farm houses reading "Take Back Vermont" and bumper stickers in the city reading "VT: Keep It Civil.").

Also prominent in the piece was a story about a refugee family that was welcomed by a local church and literally lived in the church lobby for three years. They were symbolic of a continuous wave of such refugees seeking political asylum in Vermont over recent years, said the Flynn’s Telos Whitfield in an interview after the performance. "Housing is a big issue in Vermont. There are several strong organizations in Burlington that are part of an international network supporting refugees. Many spend long stays in hotels rented by the housing network. They come here and then send word back to their families that they will be safe here — people from Laos, Bosnia, Tibet."

Focusing the Heart

The successes of the Vermont residency were visible in the lobby the night of the performance. The space was packed with people embracing each other, many in tears, through the hubbub of goodbyes and the presentations of parting gifts to Lerman and the company. The Dance Exchange came every fall and spring over four years to do residencies in St. Albans and Central Vermont, conducting free storytelling and movement workshops, talking to residents about what makes their town special, looking for common ground. From the outset, they went out of their way to interest people of all ages and backgrounds.

The residency attracted people from all over the state, some of whom traveled to Maryland for summer programs at the Dance Exchange. A number of local arts projects spun off the process: gallery shows, workshops and performance events. Liz Lerman made a guest appearance at a Vermont Council on the Humanities conference, performed her solo about Israel, and spoke on community arts work.

The generation of this kind of activity in a community is healthy, said Jane Hirshberg. "We were able to make many visits over a long period of time," she said. "Local artists had the opportunity to spin off their own products from the process we were teaching them, and participate in our product and process as well. They took part in the Critical Response Process in both situations. It’s valuable for the community to have those opportunities happen in such close proximity to each other. They take things from both experiences and enhance their own work. They carry that experience into future work."

"Hallelujah" leaves behind a new network of artists and community folk, a strengthened local arts council, and a legacy of Dance Exchange ToolBox techniques being used in schools and in arts and community projects statewide and around the region, such as the Young Adult Drama Festival and the Central Vermont Immigrant Project.

Telos Whitfield was most impressed by the residency’s introduction of movement into all kinds of activities in the area. "The immigrant project," she said, "now has a movement component it might not otherwise have had. For the audience, it’s about what people gain when they use their visual sense, and their hearts are really touched by seeing people move. It focuses the heart."

Arnie Malina, artistic director of the Flynn, said the project "contributed a lot to people who participated. They enjoyed it and were surprised at the levels of connection they experienced. They got a chance to see their lives in relation to art, and it was both fun and meaningful for them to see something from their lives turned into a cohesive whole, a dance from their own lives."

For Malina, the most interesting part of the experience was the section that featured "the intimacy movements" of the same-sex couples who had become "civil-unionized" in Vermont. "Just finding the male and female couples to participate took a lot of time," Malina said. "Either one member of a couple had stage-fright, or the other didn't want to ‘come out’ so publicly. This part of the performance was quite moving, with gay and straight couples, old and young, sharing the stage. But it also created complex reactions," Malina continued. "The audience of 1200 was composed of people from all over the state, including families from more conservative rural areas who had participated in the Liz Lerman residencies over the last few years. One of the parents of one of the teens on stage initially pulled her daughter out of the show when she heard about the civil-union dance. But the parents ultimately allowed their daughter to participate, perhaps an example of art helping to promote tolerance. Although Vermont is a progressive state, gays, while out, still experience fear. One lesbian couple decided not to participate because one of the women is a teacher. However much she would have enjoyed and been proud to be on stage, she ultimately decided it was too risky because she works with children. In this day and age," said Malina, "these are still real issues."

Malina was also impressed with the inspiration the project provided to the local artists who participated, and to the outlying communities in which the Dance Exchange worked. "The most challenging thing," he said, "was working with the infrastructures of those small towns, often with volunteers. The Onion River Arts Council in Montpelier was in precarious financial shape. The success of the residencies helped this organization through some rough times by providing some financial support. They are now much stronger institutionally."

That kind of legacy is important to all concerned, especially to funders, who always want to know what the project’s "exit strategy" is: What will be in place after the artists leave town? Frankly, said Malina, it’s often a matter of money. "It would be great to have enough money to keep doing this kind of work all over the state. But it’s hard to sustain. It’s very time and labor intensive." The project received substantial funding from the Lila Wallace-Reader’s Digest Fund over four years from its APAN (Audiences for the Performing Arts Network) initiative, which is intended to build new audiences for the theaters in the program. "We did a lot of stuff outside Burlington. Would that money have been better spent in town? Those people [from St. Albans, Montpelier and Vergennes] can’t always afford to travel here. We have to ask ourselves whether putting so much effort into outlying communities is a practical one for the Flynn. However, It created extraordinary good will, a kind of collegial brotherhood, and was a major opportunity to bring arts experiences to smaller towns and connect them to the Flynn."

Critically, I view this work as nearly perfect. As mass choreography, it was smooth and satisfying, with wonderful surprises. Visually, it was an ideal example of Lerman’s desire for inclusion and balance: people of all ages and sexual persuasions demonstrating love, curiosity, trust and longing for justice and perfection. It was exactly the right length, and there were no technical problems. The immense hall did not dwarf the performers or render the first-time artists inaudible. The dexterity of the blend of visiting professionals, local dancers and everyday folks was nothing less than stunning. It played to a full house and got the standing ovation it deserved.

Lerman as Teacher

My Vermont visit was a chance to get some perspective on Liz Lerman’s method of working with artists. I interviewed Margot Greenlee, a Dance Exchange member since 1999, who has been thinking about this very subject as she settles into the company. "I feel included," she said, "and on fire artistically." She has been observing Lerman carefully and notices that she teaches by asking questions. She promises to share a list of them when she feels it is finished.

Lerman selects for the company people with "a strong artistic drive, strong leaders" said Greenlee. It was uncomfortable learning how to follow Lerman, who is "always in ‘what if’ mode." As a team member in the Vermont and Michigan projects, Greenlee is learning how to plan and share the teaching load and how to develop new materials. She talked about the "wide funnel approach" to community collaborations where they keep as many things on the table as long as possible. At some point in the process, the funnel is turned upside down and new input ceases while the piece is focused. "Learning when to ask for input and when to stop is difficult. We each experience it differently."

She’s learning the language of the Dance Exchange culture: "I hardly ever hear the word no. It’s frustrating. I’m learning my own limits, and when we are brainstorming and when we are supporting Liz. We live in Critical Response Mode." Here Greenlee was referring to the peer critique Lerman developed with colleagues at Alternate ROOTS, a southeastern regional organization of community artists. It’s a method for perfecting a work in progress without destroying the artist at his/her most vulnerable moment. The method is being used widely across the country.

Before the performance, Lerman addressed a small audience in a gallery in the theater’s lobby. She talked about her own journey to community art, starting with a mother who was an artistic elitist and a father who was a labor organizer and civil-rights advocate. Her upbringing was "civil rights and freedom school by day, ballet by night. The Dance Exchange is my parents reconstructed," she told a chuckling audience. She described her professional strategy as an attempt to "integrate what you love the most," and to find out "what we dance about, who gets to dance and where — and who cares?" Professional art activity and community life inform each other, she said, and both are better when they do.

When asked by an audience member how initial contact is made with people in a community, she answered. "It’s a mystery. It’s very different in each community. There’s an odd push-pull between imposing ourselves, our ideas, our process, our idea of art in your life and waiting and listening and not knowing. I know a lot, but I don’t know. The people we find are those who like to live in that moment and ‘not know.’"

One questioner wanted to know what general themes were appearing in the process of the nationwide "Hallelujah." Lerman said, "Sprawl. Change out of control ("my" control). I can’t control what happens on my own block. My place is changing. I don’t know what forces are going to take over. Can I still live here?" She said her message for "Hallelujah" came to her when creating a piece for the Jacob’s Pillow work based on the Biblical story of Jacob’s ladder. Basically, the message is "Wake up, We are in a sacred place together. There is beauty all around. There might be a hallelujah in your darkest moment."

Linda Burnham would like to thank Erica Yerkey for her assistance with the research for this article.

Original CAN/API publication: May 2001