New York Adventures: Survival

Wilson College students and Orchesis members perform "Dark Vision"; 1962.

PN: Which brings us to the question: how did one survive as a dancer those days? When I was still at Wilson, I realized that I could graduate as a major in Fine Arts—with no practical skills. How that would help me survive post-graduation turned out to be a moot point. One of my friends tried learning key punch, which was computer stuff back then, but sitting in a COLD room in front of a computer was not the right thing for me! I had a brief fling at trying to learn shorthand/typing, but I got the German measles. When I recovered and came back, the school had disappeared! I also learned Lighting Design but found out that a techie mentality and a performer mentality are poles apart. To be a tech person one needs a Bodhisattva mind— an ability to remain calm while fixing problems - meanwhile the artist would be having hysterics, etc. A valuable lesson!

On the advice of friends I became— and here the reader’s eyes will glaze over! — an Artists Model. The pay was good, one could pick one’s hours. That period was a kind of Golden Age - when there were still objective painters. Many dancers made a living that way. I started working for Moses Soyer, known for his dancers in red skirts, and was posing for him when he died of a heart attack in ’74! A pet moment: When I was working for his brother Isaac in a little sketch group (wearing a leotard), one of the students said, “Hello, Phoebe.” He was my gynecologist! And later, months later, waiting for my appointment, I found myself sitting under my portrait— to the amazement of his secretary! One of Moses' students was the wife of a shipping tycoon who had carved her artist life out of that of being a rich man’s wife—not an easy thing to do! We developed a special friendship; she was my Jewish Mother! I worked for her off and on until I left the US. She gave me photos of the paintings, so I have my whole life in her pictures. Then came the occasion when a friend of mine got pregnant and I took her job teaching dance at a progressive school upstate— a three-hour commute twice a week. From then on it was teaching: The Barlow School, the Fieldstone School, NYU School of the Arts, Bennington College (sabbatical replacements, twice), UCLA (exile in California!) and finally teaching Body-Mind Centering in the US and later in Amsterdam.

JM: Wow! You really hit a raw nerve! How did one “survive" not only as a dancer but as a female, in those days - in the 50's and 60's? And it remains an issue/question in higher education today: What job does a degree prepare you for? As you say, a degree in Fine Arts would not get you far as there was no real marketable skill set within that major. Gratefully we may have made some much-needed headway on the pursuit of female independence... albeit not enough.

Although I am probably more of a problem solver than an artist, I found myself much more at home in an artistic/cultural setting. Both of my parents were not comfortable with anyone considering a future in the art world (despite my father's artistic talent), so it was made very clear to me that I had three choices since I must have a job (not a career). In those days, however, it was not easy for a young woman to be able to support herself. So, my options, along with getting married so I could "become independent" and leave home, were to become a secretary, a nurse or a lower-school teacher. All very reasonable jobs. My choice was none of the above. But I did my best to live up to my parents’ expectations. My best was not very good. It became clear at Wilson that I was much more interested in dance than anything else and by the end of the third year there, I was not doing well at all - to say the least. I think the pressures to fit into the expected mold were just too stressful for me.

The summer at the American Dance Festival and the two years I spent at Juilliard were what I consider the most enlightening and rewarding years of my life. I was so excited and nurtured by the work, and it was a world in which I felt as comfortable and energized as I had ever been. When I had to give it up, I realized that I was going to have to follow the original path that was expected of me. I had hopes of perhaps being able to join the staff of the new Lincoln Center complex, but in those days the expectation was that any female would be "secretarial," and that meant being able not only to type but also to take shorthand. Gratefully I had had a typing class in 8th grade, but as hard as I tried, I could not manage to master shorthand.

So, I did get married and made a move into NYC and completed the requirement of leaving home. Next was the job search. I ended up at The Museum of Modern Art in a secretarial position at first, typing and taking notes as fast as I could! Now that the job requirement had been completed what about my own interests, yearnings, and identity with the dance world? MOMA proved to be a good substitute as, at least, I was immersed in the art world. I took every opportunity to learn and grow during that time. By the time I left MOMA I was in an administrative assistant position, at least a step in the right direction. But I didn't envision a future there. Actually, I don't think I envisioned a future at all. At this point in my life, I feel I could most likely have identified numerous career paths that would have made good sense if they had either been available at that time or if I had any mentoring or encouragement to explore them. Seems like the most critical lesson is that there are many opportunities in what we see as failures and that old cliché about endings being new beginnings... Every exploration I have pursued has led to some important knowledge - whether I wanted to learn it or not!