Laban Resources
Transcripts – John Hodgson
34 Individual Files Listed Alphabetically
Birgit Akesson (Tape 48)
Biography
(1908 – 2001)
Birgit Åkesson trained as a dancer at Mary Wigman's school in Dresden from 1929–31. After having danced with her a few years, Åkesson began to challenge Wigman’s expressionist style of dance. After retraining in Paris she created her own more minimal style of dance.
Summary of Interview
She studied with Wigman in the early 1930s for three years. She neither studied with nor saw any of Laban’s work. She talks about the expressionist dances of Wigman and is highly critical of what she thinks Laban represents. She is equally critical of Jooss for his narrative-based dance. JH tries to defend her incredibly negative opinion of Laban.
Tape 48
[01.17.20 – 01.56.38]
[Sound quality it appalling as it is clear for a few seconds and then becomes inaudible.]
BA: … Who is creative as a dancer or a choreographer, you see? They will be born with something that grows with their knowledge and experience. [Inaudible] … but to begin [Inaudible] when it is somebody who is dancing and who is not dancing. [Inaudible] But if you … what I find in Laban and all what I have [Inaudible] Kurt Jooss who is, in some way, the one who has continued
JH: The dance, yes
BA: He got very literary. So he just jumped on the same road as classical ballet when they haven’t understood the impressionist music of Debussy and all those stories [Inaudible]
JH: They were different stories?
BA: Definitely. But you need natural [Inaudible] … but it doesn’t need to be literal. If you’d seen Wigman it was much more, by Jooss. Much more, you see? [Inaudible] So you see she was really in some ways an expressionist, German expressionist, very romantic, because you can see in her instrumentation all this [Inaudible] the drums and the gongs, all taken from Asia. Where it might lead? Not at all she was interested in [Inaudible] Very barbaric.
JH: She got that from Laban, I think.
BA: I think so. And you see this… it doesn’t matter where you learn, and it doesn’t matter either whether [Inaudible] learn like that, but in some ways even [Inaudible] the human being in her [Inaudible] was always in some way very big, in some way she was in prison on the stage, you understand? So she was much interested in other forces. She was not interested in instruments. It was just a big power. Somebody singing. [Inaudible] What was hard for Wigman as far as I can see it was just force and the rhythm. She [Inaudible] Laban and all those people come to fore. [Inaudible] They will create gymnastics in some way, you see? Because still we are there, somewhere… [Inaudible] I never met him, I never saw him, but Wigman it doesn’t matter [Inaudible] … she will always try and find her role [Inaudible] classical ballet [Inaudible] … she has to find herself in a role. So, I think that what I see by Laban in that [Inaudible] … that is why I think it was wrong [Inaudible] Because you see it is so static because the expression [Inaudible] very much in the muscles. I don’t know what. It is for me very gymnastic. [Inaudible] dancing and it is naturally expressing…
JH: Why do you say it’s static?
BA: I find it’s static.
JH: I mean, it uses much more movement than…
BA: No, no, no, no, no. Jooss couldn’t use [Inaudible]. He went out of it into story.
JH: But there’s plenty of movement in there.
BA: Yes, but I find that movement very static.
JH: I think I have some inkling of what you mean, but that could be said about many ballets: that they move in a very static way.
BA: They have not thought about how to be classical ballet, they have thought to be a new rule.
JH: Well they were in a sense.
BA: They were not. This is nature, you see? They have to find their own nature in some way. In some way they only thing I can say, I’m sorry, Jooss had to have the dance. And it’s so hard to find. [Inaudible] And to find some sense. [JH talks over BA] I see Jooss and where he’s going and I can see even we take for instance
JH: That was Jooss’ limitation, not Laban’s
BA: No, no. But if you see, we had to learn all this new movement, by Wigman, by Laban
[Tape signal becomes clearer 01.25.00]
JH: When did you first meet Mary Wigman?
BA: It was just before the Nazis.
JH: and how long were you with Mary? You were a pupil of Mary’s were you?
BA: Yes
JH: How long was that for?
BA: Three years.
JH: Did you feel at that stage… I think Mary Wigman had moved very much away…
BA: You could have it through … you had to do this kind of vocabulary. I can understand Laban. But when he is wrong in a time, where the classical ballet had its name of the movement and they are sadly dance. And they are there. He liked to do in another area of movement the same. Believing it must have a kind of [Inaudible] the [Inaudible] are near each other. Very, very near. [Inaudible]
JH: In that, I agree. You see this is where I think we do a disservice to Laban by saying, This static dance is Laban. I don’t think that’s Laban. I think that’s a bad representation, as you say, a stifled representation of Laban.
BA: In some ways you think why is there not somewhere, something that smell dogs by Laban? Why do we never read the books?
JH: Well, because they aren’t available any longer?
BA: No, true. But even if we can?
JH: Because Laban was a dancer, no a mover, not a writer.
BA: He was a mover. [Inaudible] So we can speak. Because dancers, you see, that is all the pictures made …
JH: I see, I just wanted to register that there’s a little bit of confusion in terminology. I agree with you that Laban was not a choreographer, Laban was not a dancer, but he was a very skilful reader of movement, and a very [Inaudible] of exciting ideas. If someone picks up one of his ideas and misrepresents it, it seems not very useful to blame Laban for this. Laban was not static …
BA: But somewhere he was not … he was amateur
JH: We are agreed. He was kind of amateur. He was an amateur dancer.
BA: A fanatic amateur.
JH: Yes, but he was a professional mover. An amateur dancer, an amateur choreographer…
BA: Yes alright, alright but who is the mover? You see…
JH: He’s taking as his professional study something bigger than just dancing. He’s trying to embrace all movement, dancing, which is one part of…
BA: Ah, ah, ah, eh, no. You think… What is high and what is low, what is much and what is little? You can so [Inaudible] and then you will have nothing and you will be just what Laban was - pathetic. Now I go on. Very pathetic…
JH: Why do you say that?
BA: Pathetic that is always an empathy for me. He moves in a way that shows his …
JH: But how do you know, you never saw him?
BA: You are right, but I’ve seen photographs. But why are there no more pupils in some way who got the life out of that thing?
JH: But there are a lot of people who did. Maybe … you might say that maybe he is too far ahead like many…
BA: No, no, no, no. [Inaudible] How can you say these things? He is much more than the dance. I don’t care…
JH: I’ve studied his life
BA: So you say he is a big philosopher?
JH: No I wouldn’t say that.
BA: But you see what is dance? Dance is something we can call art, you see. And why should we say that something is bigger or less bigger and all this. It is impossible. [inaudible] A wonderful dancer [inaudible] who is bigger than that dancer?
JH: I am talking about his study.
BA: I have never followed his study.
JH: That’s why it’s a bit hard for you to be so categorical, so unfair.
BA: [inaudible quite long reply]
JH: Wigman was heavy?
BA: Yes, but in another way. [inaudible] by movement, at least she had a heart. [inaudible] in herself to find what is lyrical and what is dramatic. She was very dramatic. And you see that is really [inaudible] … to be born where the Expressionism is like [inaudible] because there are in a sense already started. They touch the outer line of the movement so they can’t go back to what I should say, you can’t go farther than to the sky, or what it might be, but to go back from it, you see?
JH: One could say about you, that you are taking a bad representation and saying that is it. Saying Laban is classic when in fact Laban’s whole life is devoted to movement.
BA: Oh, I’m sure that his life was. But I am just speaking about what…
JH: He was anything but static, in his mind…
BA: Yes very, very important. But I’m just hearing from students and from people who come round and even by Wigman had to really [inaudible] Laban’s story
JH: Well, he did really get a lot of inspiration from them. This is the interesting thing. By the time [inaudible] It’s just sad that you are closing the door on something.
BA: It’s true, it’s true. It is just I see where the dance is today. Where all things is today, you follow of that line. Ninette de Valois, here at Sadlers Wells
JH: She is as prejudiced against Laban as you are.
BA: She was with that school in Switzerland, they count rhythm.
VB: Dalcroze?
BA: Dalcroze. I think that she began
VB: Marie Rambert
JH: Marie Rambert not de Valois.
BA: From where comes she?
VB: It’s Russian training.
BA: There, in some way, you can see how they try to find a connection with the music.
JH: That’s Dalcroze not Laban.
BA: No, no. How do people in the time try to find that?
JH: But Wigman and several other people found inadequate food in the Dalcroze system, that’s why they turned to Laban.
BA: Naturally, because Dalcroze is a very naïve [inaudible] so you see you can just see how Laban tried to find out of the voice, he tried to find the voice
JH: I think it’s unfair of you to make those statements without knowing him.
BA: It is, it is. But I am so [inaudible] about all this expressionism.
JH: Exactly in the same way that he was tired of the lightness and the non-weightedness of what was happening before.
BA: This is not a question of [inaudible] … the meaning inside
JH: Laban was not rejecting the light, Laban sees that there is light and heavy.
BA: As you said yourself that Laban is much more the theoretical [inaudible], the thinking form than the creative.
JH: I don’t think that was true. I think he was creative but he is not a creative [inaudible]
BA: That is the best you can say.
JH: He is a creative thinker. That was important and had a great deal … that’s why I’m a little bit sad that you reject him so categorically. Without knowing him.
BA: That’s what I said in the beginning. You should put that… [inaudible] For me, I think today, where the dance is…
JH: But isn’t that why the dance is there, because there are other people like you who have dismissed him without knowing him?
BA: Yes, I’m sure, I’m sure
JH: The problem is why Laban’s work has not become … because people were so … and I think dancers, I think unhappily, dancers have got too much of the blinker, and they wear the blinkers and don’t see…
BA: [inaudible] Classical Ballet went just the opposite way as every other choreographer because they have tried to imitate classical sculptures in many positions, you see. And so that it was always the other way round, that the sculptor admired the dancers, [inaudible] So it went the other way round. That could be the reason [inaudible] Laban comes into the picture.
JH: He moves it
BA: So the classical ballet in some way has got so hard, its vocabulary
JH: More limited
BA: Yes more limited in that they have some, [inaudible] steps that they combine, you see? And [inaudible]
JH: Which is what Laban was after. And if people were prepared to look at it, they’d see he had a lot to offer because he extended the vocabulary very much.
BA: Yes, but I think that there’s a good thing with Laban. The very good thing is that he had not his finger so much in the classical ballet as he had put it in his own thinking.
JH: well, his thinking was to do with human movement.
BA: Yes, naturally
JH: But not only human, all movement.
BA: But he was not doing for to [inaudible]. The classical ballet in some way hadn’t added much to it, even when it had added a bit from America and probably from Germany with Wigman. Its spirit will go back always to its own vocabulary. It stays there
JH: No! In fact its vocabulary and the whole business with Laban, this is where I think that Laban was very different from the classical, he never stopped, the day he died, he was always trying to extend the vocabulary.
BA: He doesn’t go to the classical ballet, he tried to find out beside that. That is the [inaudible] Wigman. Because the classical ballet is an island itself.
JH: Yes, he started with something much more organic.
BA: And so when today we try to expand that, you take from the very near vocabulary from Martha Graham, another manner of looking, that can be easily fit to the classical ballet because it is in some way goes together. But then you see that the choreography who will not change, the stories are there, and that [inaudible] so sterilised, so typical, so they put movements to movements to movements to movements. You understand? And that Martha had done in some way. [inaudible] where we come, where are we, and that is thing, the cost from Laban. We are very the same when I say, when you say, that he tried with his mind, with his heart, to expand it in the question of the dance, not the classical, but the situation of the dance. It’s just a pity he wasn’t a dancer. For me, for my point, because dance will never be, dance is body and the language the body speaks. That is the thing. And for me the meaning of all movement kinds of things is naturally the dance, but if Laban had tried to find a new background for it, it’s alright, that’s very necessary too…
JH: But Laban said that dance was the body…
BA: O yes, but he must say it because he knew, yes
JH: he also tried to dance. What I was saying, he did a lot of dancing, the fact that he was never a dancer
BA: He danced naturally, in his way because it was very hard for him to come from that background and then to get the possibility to be a dancer. That’s not easy.
JH: But he was a dancer before anything else in one sense. As a boy he truanted from school and danced in the woods. So there was a terrific driving dancing force in him
BA: Oh I’m sure, I’m sure. But your see, when see there are two kinds of people. All those people who are interested in systems, what we can add to the system, what we can add to all this background … [inaudible] can somebody dance, can somebody tell me something? I don’t need any system. I need that this body has naturally to [inaudible]
JH: I think that is only half the story. I think that, Can he dance? Has he got that essential spark? But you know, Can he dance today? I hope that is different to five years’ time. And how are they going to develop? Through understanding, through comprehension, through working at it. Now that’s where a vocabulary – I wouldn’t call it a system – I don’t think Laban had a system, there’s no such thing as a Laban system.
BA: No?
JH: Like Stanislavsky, people have misrepresented him and say he had a system. But he never had one.
BA: That’s the next generation that do that. They kill it totally.
JH: I think the danger that people get hold of the bad
BA: You can go out of that. What we had in our mind, because I just learned how, different kinds, [inaudible]
JH: Then I think you have been badly taught. I think Wigman was basically a dancer and not a teacher.
BA: Yes, no, no no. She taught in dancing. Now I can see where she had very hard things. And that was the thing. Today many are really stopping that …
JH: I think it’s also interesting that many people. You yourself must have done the same thing. I’m sure you wouldn’t like to be judged on what you did twenty years ago.
BA: It was alright [laughs].
JH: You don’t think you were
BA: [inaudible]
JH: But if somebody took the peripheral expressions of the thing. You say, That was what I did yesterday, today I have moved a stage further.
BA: But you have to have this bond in some way, a kind of nature.
JH: I’m not calling it that, I’m just saying that nature is felt.
BA: No, no. It is the life experience, and all.
JH: And also harnessing that life experience is not easy. That’s when you begin to get…
BA: [inaudible] It’s really wonderful to see that on the stage. [inaudible]
JH: He hasn’t gone on growing in the right way, has he?
BA: Yes you see because there is a thing that is same. And the people are not happy.
JH: You could never accuse Laban of that.
BA: [inaudible] You see, anyhow, that is why we have ended up. That’s bad. Martha Graham talks about Freud and Wigman and all that she likes [inaudible].
JH: She’s different now though. She has a kind of rejuvenation. Even old as she is. That’s the thing about her.
BA: [inaudible]
JH: Being open and receiving.
BA: Oh yes, that is the thing, you see. [inaudible]
JH: Thank you very much anyway.
BA: No you see why I said this. That is the thing. That’s all what I think. I couldn’t tell that I would disappoint.
JH; Have you ever found that you have drawn in any way from your contact with Mary Wigman. Has your training been anything but what you have rejected? It sounds to me that you are saying, I have rejected everything that I have had got from …
BA; I am not saying this. We all come from something. [inaudible] But as you say yourself, we grow with the job. That I can see. I can see her trouble and I can see how she tried [inaudible] oriental. [inaudible] Monumental. All the material and the things. [inaudible] But she was really [inaudible]. There will naturally be good things in everything on this earth. Even negative, because from that we can see the good thing. I can’t say that I [inaudible] with Wigman, it’s just I can see everyone feels [inaudible] If you take Munch and all these pictures, it can come to an end of a road, he couldn’t go on. You understand? That is what I mean.
JH: I don’t think that you could really say that Laban was driving along the German Expressionist only. It comes out of that climate, but he [inaudible] The fact that he can come to England when he was sixty and begin to relate his understanding not just to ballet, dancing, but to acting, to industry, to therapy.
BA; And that is good. He went the road when he got to treat people without [inaudible] It’s naturally very important too. [inaudible] What you are saying when you really... When Jooss say [inaudible] What have we done? What have we done? Even when you could see in Wigman something that [inaudible] and I am sure
JH: I think what’s interesting [end of tape]
From The New York Times, Section c, p.13 (March 30, 2001)
Birgit Akesson, 93, Creator of Elemental Dance Solos
By Anna Kisselgoff
Birgit Akesson, a dancer and choreographer whose unconventional approach to movement and music made her a prominent pioneer of Swedish modern dance, died on Saturday in Stockholm, where she lived. She died on her 93rd birthday.
Unlike most modern dancers in the United States and Europe in the 1930's and 40's, Ms. Akesson was less concerned with expressing emotion than with finding the essence of dance through form. She rebelled early against her Expressionist training and became known for pure and rigorous solos, often performed without music.
Although she stopped dancing in 1965, Ms. Akesson's role as a founding mother of Swedish modern dance was increasingly recognized in the last 30 years, and she was awarded the gold medal of the Swedish Academy in 1998. Her works were seen on Swedish television, and her pure-dance aesthetic found favor with a new generation of viewers. A founder of the Choreographic Institute in Stockholm, she was an expert on dance in Asia and also Africa, where she sought the roots of a dance culture absent in the West.
In the 1950's she choreographed several works for the Royal Swedish Ballet as well as a space age opera, ''Aniara,'' that was typical of her collaboration with Sweden's modernist composers and poets. Yet her signature style was not dramatic and narrative. Ahead of her time, she sometimes baffled the international dance world with experiments in stillness, a dissociation between music and movement and her uncanny ability to reshape the body into an assemblage of independent planes.
Clive Barker (Tape 78)
Biography
(1931 – 2005)
Clive Barker was an actor, stage manager and teacher. He came to Laban through his work with Joan Littlewood’s Theatre Workshop. There are a number of references to Laban in his classic Theatre Games (1977).
Summary of Interview
Though fascinating for students of theatre, this interview has nothing to do with Laban. The tape begins in the middle of a conversation about the nature of popular theatre. After a digression into realism he explores the nature of drama training in universities. What is the role of Theatre History in professional production and in the academic curriculum?
[from 00.36.08]
Tape 78
CB: We can solve that by you doing another six hours here. If I don’t get the structure which I want, I mean I was prepared, if I thought this was what I wanted at that time, to do all my work in Birmingham – to keep my teaching, my creative work, my writing, my own research work, my own practical work and just work in one spot. But now that I am fragmented all over the face of bloody Europe, it’s not such a bad thing. But…
[from 00.36.38 the tape jumps to a man talking about the British Drama League and children’s theatre. Then JH is recording a scenario for a drama for children.]
[from 00.41.58]
[There is another unknown voice (UK) that comes in at 44.26 which is not JH, and at 00.55.00 another voice (OV) joins the conversation]
About Popular Theatre
CB: … an almost entirely bourgeois institution in London anyway, and although many of the artists were working class, they were very much playing, you know, the big houses in the [cough makes two words inaudible] were there for the turf, the stage, the law and the press. And the audience was bourgeois. The working class section in the gallery looking down on the nobs, but it was the nobs that paid the money. And therefore to look at the roots of a contemporary popular theatre in terms of a stand-up comic and a Marie Lloyd-type singer seems to me hopelessly inaccurate and inadequate. And if one only goes back twenty years one can find not only the [inaudible] but The Standard and several others manifestly popular theatres of this country and that that, if one were going to do any work really to establish a basis for popular theatre would want to look further back at that, and also, which is the thing that I would like to do now, is to look in the ‘20s, even then, to see which of the comedians carried over into radio and which had worked in Variety and went into films and things like this. It seems to me that one could find, or finds it, in Rob Wilton and people like this, a way of working a line, of handling words, like Jimmy James, of handling words, which is highly technical and has, to me, an open quality. It’s not like many comedians, like the American quick-style comedian who shuts you out and batters you with it or pushes you along with it. But these seem to be men, you know, I mean the essence of Rob Wilton’s jokes is to get pulled along into them, like a drunk being dragged from bar to bar, you get pulled into his stories. They are open, they are accessible. And if you laugh, you seem to laugh from inside and not from any sort of excluded or peripheral position, and it’s these aspects of working that I’m interested in as a performer and I’m interested in as a director. Maybe some of this, maybe one just looks at it nostalgically in the end and says, well it’s no use. But I’m still fascinated to find why 28,000 people turned up at the Britannia Hoxton for the first week of its pantomime in 1896.
UK: I share you fascination. You know, I go along with you in this, entirely. But do you also take this into the point where you might, to go back to Rob Wilton and the contrast you made between the way he pulls you into something, I know what you mean, and Bob Hope’s spatters it all over you, can you use, do you use these examples and say to students, ‘Look, here Rob Wilton, here this theatre appealing at this time to this audience, that this has a relevance for you now, today?
CB: Yea.
UK: For instance, in making social decisions, then the interesting point again, to go back to the fact that it was the costermonger audience that apparently liked the Shakespeare and the petit bourgeoisie who apparently went to the vaudeville, does that have any relevance to thinking today about how you structure a regional theatre in terms of its programming if it happens to be based in Sheffield or in Bradford, as opposed to in Cheltenham or in Bournemouth? I.e. Are there any basic, is there any information and truths there which really are still pertinent. Or has the whole situation changed anyway and made them merely a historical point of interest?
CB: Well, you see maybe they have no relevance directly, I don’t know. Certain things for me like that I begin to query the basis of what I understand the theatre to be. I can remember, years ago, writing an article for someone in which my presumption, I presumed, that the popular theatre in this country was on a large, was killed in 1666 and killed definitely in 1668. And it had only existed in small pockets and touring companies and little pirate theatres and things like that. And then suddenly I find, you know, which is what I cited in that Theatre Quarterly [1971 – 1981] thing, 1,100 people in one house with an illegal company playing in Walworth for 18 months before the police shut them down. And the other thing which they didn’t put in there, which they [inaudible] article, which they cut, was they asked the actors what their occupations were, and the actors said they were unemployed workmen, or women saving themselves from prostitution. And it’s a class-conscious theatre. Well, I mean, if nothing else, this enables me to get a much clearer picture of how the hell we got where we are. And this to me is important if nothing else in that I don’t believe the half-truths and the suppositions that I’ve been brought up on, and I begin now, to fill in… to my own mind…. For instance, if I ever finish this bloody book, I’m working on the 1930s. What I can see quite clearly is that a totally new audience comes into the theatre between the two world wars. It’s a totally different social composition to the audience that was there before the First World War. And that that audience is still in the theatre. And that if one looks for the problems of the present-day theatre, if you go back to where its roots were, you find its roots were in the 1930s. Now it may well be that nobody will allow us to move that audience out and bring another one it, but at least we know, we can understand, I can understand now, the values of that audience and where it leads to. And that’s stopped me doing an awful lot of things that I might have done in theatre, out of… on a trial and error basis. I wouldn’t try them now because I know, that as long as that audience is there, it’s not worth doing certain things. I mean, it just isn’t worth it, because I know what the values of that audience are. I get a very clear picture of that audience now, much clearer than I got from Peter Mann counting the Sheffield audience, because having worked on how that audience came into being, and its social and political values…
UK: Curiously enough, Peter Mann was counting the Leeds audience, wasn’t he?, from Sheffield. What kind of audience was it? I mean, what’s the great difference in the 1930s audience and why? Is it just simply that it’s suddenly become the petit bourgeoisie a little more ground?
CB: No, it’s not entirely … I mean your stuffed white shirts begin to disappear with the introduction of income tax and super tax and death duties and such things in the First World War. Your development, your corporations catching ground and your big cartels catching ground so fast in the period during the war and just before the war and just after the war, means that the number of people with a high amount of disposable income shrinks, whereas the industrialisation of the country means that you have a great wadge of white collar workers and managerial strata people coming. I mean if you read Somerset Maugham’s plays in the ‘20s, they’re set in stock-broker detached houses and when you get to J.B. Priestley they’re all in Acacia Avenue and Laburnam Grove, you know. And the whole theatre drops a class like that. Which then I would relate to what are the political values of these people? One finds, of course, that in that period, the run-down of the old industrial areas and the migration of the population to the South East, and you begin then to sort of cope with social values that began to affect the theatre as well because it changed the audience’s appreciation of plays. It’s things like this, and how this reflects, and how this opinion reflects itself in politics at that time, how it reflected itself in sort of social attitudes at that time. I mean, I think, applied to the plays, it becomes more crucial because I’m beginning to see, and before this I was, before I actually down to hard work on this, I used to think that any rising strata of society took over the institutions of the previous leading strata of society, and adapted them. First of all imitated the past and then adapted to their own circumstances. I can see in the ‘20s and ‘30s. But it seems to me that the petit bourgeoisie were not the rising strata of society, there were simply the most conscious strata of society, no more they were the rising strata than the teenage culture of today is a rising strata. It just happened to be the most, if you like, the most self-conscious strata of society and they throw up their idols, they throw up their pop stars, just as the thirties threw up the Anan Eagle and the Evelyn Laye’s and people like this. When one goes back to the Old Vic and studies the Old Vic, when you actually look at the conditions of what was done at the Old Vic, five days to rehearse MacBeth with Gielgud and he was doing a film and directing another play at the same time, you think he must have been shit. The standard must have been dreadful or they must have got some energy from somewhere. And then when you go back and you realise that Olivier and Richardson and people like this were in fact the equivalent of the pop idols, or the younger section of that petit bourgeois audience and that the energy came largely from the audience because the audience was willing those people on, they were their representatives. If you and watch Evelyn Laye or Anan Eagle [?] that audience will come out white-haired and decrepit. It doesn’t matter. Evelyn Laye in No Sex Please, We’re British is diabolical, she is a disaster as an actress, but the audience loves her because they’ve got a vested interested in that woman still being up on the stage. She is still their representative and she can’t do any wrong, they love her because they identify with her. Once you’re in this area you’re beginning to learn things about the theatrical experience and the performance and the theatre that you work in. Maybe I’ll become a Fenella Fielding and make money, I don’t know,
JH: One begins to learn, that’s more important than some of the others you been talking … you now seem to be coming to the central thing, the actor and acting. Now it’s awfully difficult historically to study acting. You can study the thing that we’re left with, the shell and that seems often a pity in this attempt at research. We cannot get to the actual life and blood acting. I mean, do you find this limits the value of what you’re researching in?
CB: Yea. I mean I think it does. In the end you can find something about almost everything except the central activity, the performer. Yes, in a way. Sometimes I just don’t look at that area. I am interested in throughout the 19th Century and a number of theatres which are held up as paragons of realism, and which, when you get down to it, what is mean by real? Real is almost equally equated, or can be equated with what is respectable. And I think this is what one begins to read into what the actors performed then, one begins to look at what Vestris was doing and not accepting it as realism, but accepting what looked like respectable to that audience and one begins to get some sense of style. I don’t know, I’m intrigued by … one of my lads has just done a thesis on the Harlequinade, I’m intrigued by how those actors learned their job, I’m intrigued by how Stan Laurel actually appeared. Where the hell those skills which Stan Laurel is such a manifest genius at working, how they were developed over a period, where they came from? It’s like this. You have certain things you can hold on to, and you try and work back. Or you have certain terms and one tries to visualise in some way what those actors did. Sometimes in exercises or games or things like that, or very much in performances of past plays, I go back to the actor’s conditions to try and find out how the original actors would have arrived at rehearsing, and what they would have brought to that performance. And this helps me then, to see what the audience would have looked … what is in the play, what the value of that play, or what the value is to me, rather than starting from just words on a written page, which, after all one can’t interpret unless one makes a whole grid of sort of other references.
JH: Even though sometimes you might come to the conclusion that it must have been shit.
CB: Yeah.
UK: How would you teach the history of that?
OV: This is fine, you can come to these conclusions but they are arrived at by a very considerable amount of personal research, and the information from other areas, you persuade us of the importance of the material to you in terms of your understanding of the contemporary situation or the total art, but how in fact do you get over the problem of making theatre history a subject, at this very simple level, for students? Or should they simply be put on, for instance, to a special… one single piece of research, find out at least one thing thoroughly as opposed to find out about a lot of this and treat it superficially?
CB: This is the mess of university teaching. You see the university course as it is set up at the moment, does a little bit here and a little bit there and a little bit somewhere else and then expects the weakest member in the relationship to make all the connections across and how the hell you can expect a student to do it beats me. Because there is patently one in every three years that ever manages to get himself into a sufficiently informed position to see across the area, and you patronisingly give him a 2/1 when you ought to give him a bloody gold medal for knowing more than he ever ought to know… But this is where the benefit of our options were, the benefit of our options was that we would…
Clive Barker’s Vision of Theatre Training in a University
I have a concept which is called the theatre… mind, it’s a grandiose title … on which I’d ever had the option running over five or six years, we would have worked in this way. We took three templates, which took one drawing of Oscar Schlemmer’s from the Bauhaus, I don’t know if you know it, it is of a man standing in a three-dimensional drawing of space, like that, with the force lines going out from him, like that, and we said, ‘Right, that’s the first template, that’s our training – man in space, in three-dimensional space. He doesn’t stand like that, he doesn’t stand like that, he doesn’t stand like that, or like that, he stands accepting the space in which he’s put.’ So this is our physical training now, how we explore the movement that is possible of the body in three-dimensional space. The second template was man in social environment, not spatial environment, but social environment. So, no matter what we studied, whether it was contemporary or the past, we would study the man, the human centre of the play, in the social context, environment of his time. This, we thought, would be the material. The one would be the training for the method of approach, the second would be the material on which our work would be based, and our third was Man in a Theatrical Environment, which is to look at all the varieties and conventions of theatre that people, that human beings throughout the past had used in order to communicate this material, which was our second template, to an audience in a theatrical situation. So that no matter what we studied, when we looked at the play we would then look at why they chose that particular way of doing it, and not another way of doing it. Which means you’ve got to look at what the hell they are doing, and not make superficial judgements about it. And the next thing was that we would look at the society and see, and try and understand exactly what the material was and then we would see how do we train our fellow in order to make that clear to an existing audience. Well, once you do this, then the material off which the actor works, he’s got to go to theatre history, he’s got to understand theatre history in order to do this, otherwise, he’s working in isolation. I mean just as I did Baal, last year with drama students, I once sent them to George Grosz, and once sent them to the Surrealist movement and to the fin de siècle French poets and people like this to begin to understand the world in which that play was written. Otherwise, you can’t understand that play, it doesn’t… we don’t know what we’re doing. And then when we know what we can do, we can communicate it to the audience, but to me, theatre history is vitally important in this way.
UK: But badly taught.
CB: Abysmally taught. And the only way I think you can teach it, is by setting up some exercises. I mean out of practical work and out of long seminar work and other various dodges, questions arise, and you send them off to follow up those questions. One thing, I said when I had the option, ‘Right it’s a theatre of man, what’s our repertoire? Go away over the Christmas vacation and bring me back the first seven plays that we’re going to do. And so they all went away. What we exposed was very peculiar values on their part, and an almost total ignorance of what the dramatic repertoire was. But then we sat down and we went through everybody’s list of seven plays. Now in this way I could say to them, ‘Ah yea, but I wouldn’t put that against that because this that and the other. And I began to sort of say, ‘Well yes, but if you put that play in there, you could attract that audience. Yea, well you don’t just open your doors and wait for them to come in. You’ve got to phrase your programme no matter what you’re doing to try and get your audience. And then if we did it this way, we would have a building case, instead of a falling-off cast. You don’t want that play because it employs fourteen people rather than the main group of actors that you’ve got.’ And in this way one began to get them to look at what the conditions of the theatre were and one then began to say, ‘Why did you choose that play? Why do you choose The Country Wife and not The Provok’d Wife?’ And then they would have to go back and look at The Provok’d Wife and then they would have to look at the values in both of them, and this way we began to push them towards seeing the play that they themselves had chosen in their time. We took their material and made them push it further. With the 19th Century thing, I mean we simply … the 19th Century thing was an overwhelming success, I mean it was quite staggering. We just sent little first year students off and said, ‘You’ve never been to the Endhoven Collection and see what they’ve got there. Or, ‘You’ve never heard of this theatre, going and see what there is on this theatre.’ And they went off. I mean, no-one had ever … they only given them books, nobody had said, ‘Go and see what’s there’
OV: Go and see
CB: And they went, and not only were they involved in their own area but they got wrapped up in everybody else’s area. And they became very jealous about what they’d done.
UK: That sounds…
CB: I mean, I’ve got three … is it three? … I’ve got three students at the moment, their research project this year is the Worker’s Theatre Movement in the 1920s,
UK: Graduate students?
CB: No third year students
UK: Undergraduate students
CB: Who haven’t really got enough time. It’s best done, I think, in the first and second year. For me, as a use of history course, rather than a research project. But you know, they are involved in an area of theatre which two years ago none of them would ever have heard of, and never even thought of existing.
OV: What I’m finding increasingly important, I’ve been at work for ten years in Africa, so obviously I have a deep interest in African material and I know a fair amount about West African theatre. And I find this and from this moving on to India and Asia and World Theatre in general, I find an enormous amount of reflected information back upon style, and upon attitude and manner and reception – all these problems in relation to the British theatre. I find myself in a sense, equally informed looking to one side, to both sides, as I find looking back over my shoulder. And to some extent of course sometimes you meet up with a time lag and you kind of recreate the situation more realistically, or you find a different choice made at a point in time which was available to us at another point in time, except the choice was different and the result clearly are different, and again, informative and intriguing.
CB: I think really, the point of theatre history is this. As an actor, I’m interested in what it’s like to be in that situation. What it’s like to do that. And surely that’s the case in theatre history? I say, as an actor, the wellspring of my interest when I read a play is, ‘what’s it like to be in that situation? What’s it like to play that? How would I do it?’ And I think, going back to the history and reading about other theatres, then my interest is just the same. ‘What’s it like?’ What would it be like to be there, to do that, to have worked in that theatre? To me, it’s two very close branches of the same thing. If you take me into a theatre, any theatre, that I haven’t been into before, then I’ll get on the stage and I’ll find the focal point and what does it feel like for the audience, to walk this way and the other. And it’s the same if you take me to an old building that was a theatre, I’ll go in it. Somewhere like Wilton’s Music Hall, I’ll go back to time and again just to stand on the stage and look at the auditorium and I think, ‘What was it like to play to people down there and up there?’ And one needs then to know more facts about those performers. The same thing: having read this thesis on the Harlequinade, it’s just within the last three weeks prompted me to work how the Harlequinade’s leaps through the window was done? Alright, most of them did it into a blanket, but how could you do it without the blanket? In three weeks I’ve taught myself how to do that Harlequin fall when you go and come down on your chest and drop the legs back that way, just to see how it’s done, what it feels like to do it. I may never use it on … Actually, I did use a variation of it. I find now in Lovely War, that was one thing I taught kids the cavalry charge in Lovely War, just to show them was involved in, but it wasn’t enough to believe you were riding a bloody horse, you had to show an audience that you were riding a bloody horse and still believe you were riding a bloody horse, even when you were doing complicated choreography. And I just did this fall and I thought, ‘I’ll try the harlequin fall. What’s it like to do it? To go through a window and do it? I’ll have to build a window next and dive through it, just to see what it was …
JH: Relevance never worries me because it doesn’t have to mean that this is something that I can immediately, tomorrow apply to x y or z situation. But relevance is something which is a total informing of me as a person involved in this art, therefore I will come in all kinds of peripheral ways to come to understand it better, to bring more life, more point of reference, and so on.
UK: Yes, yes. We’re all questioning over this, is this really an irrelevance, although it’s constantly questioned.
JH: I think rightly so. We need to keep examining it.
CB: I tell you what, which is a very important thing to make is, just out of interest for theatre, I read lots of books and then suddenly I have to go back and read one again with some idea of use. I want to use for some reason, not just read it for information, but use it. I always get a hell of a lot more out of it. This year I’m doing a course on content analysis with 2nd and 3rd year students, trying to work out a methodology for looking at plays and establishing you know what the values and what the content values of it are. And I went back to Aristotle to The Poetics which I’ve read two or three times in my life, only this time, I went back to see what Aristotle would yield that could be applied to dramatic literature throughout the ages, instead of reading it just as a course in poetics or theatre criticism. I got a hell of a lot more out of it. It suddenly became a vital and very exciting book to read because I got some use. Now, if I had my way, then a 1st year drama course in a university would be a use course. It wouldn’t be an introduction course, fuck that, it would be a use course because I believe that if you can make students understand the use that something can be put to directly in their own training, their own work, for their own development, then they’ll go and they’ll get it. And Theatre History is just grist to the mill, it just goes in. It’s fascinating if they know how they can use it. Not necessarily to say, ‘Well, I must have that’, but as you’ve said, because it informs the total situation. We know why we want to be informed of the total situation and, to an extent, which is more important, we know the excitement that it brings to pick up something which puts one more jigsaw piece where there was a hole before. If you can give this to kids then they’ll find it, they’ll go out and get it on their own and you don’t have to teach them, they’ll teach themselves.
JH: On the other hand, you need to know that Aristotle is there to be able to go to him with these kind of questions. So, presumably, there is some purpose or value in kind of…
CB: But how do you get to that? I’m not sure of that. I mean, they’ll make up their own map and they’ll make it up bloody quickly if you start it. The main thing for me is to get the whole thing working in an interrelationship way so that you move from one area to another area quite easily and if something arises out of practice that you want to take up and study then you immediately go to a seminar. The folly of this is that something comes up in practice when you’re actual course is doing something totally different and you can’t change a bleeding course because it’s fixed and that’s it, you’re halfway through it. One needs to get a group of students and keep moulding them and pushing them in their directions and opening things up for them and when you get the interest there, push them that bit further, rather than … I can’t teach. I wouldn’t dream to teach, it’s not my job to teach. It’s their job to bloody well learn. Which makes life very dull in fact, unless you can set up some situation in which you’re in relationship with them and in which you can constantly keep saying, ‘Ah well, yes, but what you’re doing there, someone else did this, or that was done there’, or ‘Yeah well if that’s the idea you’ve got, that idea’s taken up somewhere else’, ‘If that’s the way you feel about it, why don’t you go and read that which is about that’. One has to work, I think, on this close…
UK: One of the problems here I think though is that the junior child is increasingly fitting himself into this kind of approach, the junior school child of discovery, okay a guided, a limited discovery is happening. It is happening more slowly in secondary education. There’s often the big bang when the kid gets into secondary education, isn’t there, when he ceases to be allowed to discover by himself and is instructed and is often, I think, frustrated by this, presumably we may ease this out of the secondary system, but I don’t think we’re going to be able to ease it out of the university system so they then come into second stumbling block where they are. I believe a body of factual information should be available and should be offered at the various levels where it is appropriate but obviously it should only be there as the initial guidelines. Obviously a student needs to know that there was a man called Aristotle and he did write something called The Poetics, and he may not know it unless you tell him this. You can’t really sit back and let him discover that, can you? But on the fear that he might not discover it.
CB: I don’t know, you see in a drama school it’s different where you’ve got classes running all the time. But you start in a university and you say, ‘Well what do we teach someone? We must have a course on Stanislavsky, I mean that can’t be left out. And we’ll do practical sessions and we’ll set up some of Stanislavsky’s exercises, and you get a 10% interest. On the other hand, I mean, the way that I would much prefer to approach that is you do a series of exercises or games, that I work on, to show that, to expose what happens when you divorce structure and feeling from the words, when you set up exercises in which people strike emotional attitudes. I mean, there are enough of these nonsense games in which what the actor is encouraged to do is give an intensity of emotion and feeling which isn’t directly related to the dialogue that he’s got. It’s not specific. And you split the two like that. Which is Crossroads and one could take that and show, well there’s an example. The script is so bloody awful it doesn’t sustain a structure of feeling, so the actor is left putting emotional colour on top of words in order to sell it to an audience. Now once you do this of course, you then come back to the point that this is precisely covered in the first chapter of An Actor Prepares. If you then say to your students, ‘Well yes, Okay, we’ve seen that point, but that’s precisely the point that Stanislavsky…’ And then if you have than a flexible structure in which you can say, ‘Well okay go away and read the first chapter of An Actor Prepares and come back’, then you’ve got an entrée to Stanislavsky.
JH: What you’re suggesting is, how it’s taught, you’re not saying it shouldn’t be taught.
CB: yes, I’m saying how it’s taught.
JH: it seems to me that basically good teaching. Nobody should ever teach by just telling, anyway. You set up situations the same as directing a play.
CB: I can’t see a university, short of the options system we have, I don’t see how the hell you get this set up. You can’t do it. I get Thursday afternoons to teach basic acting [end of tape]
1. British. Occupation. comedian. Robb Wilton (28 August 1881 – 1 May 1957), born Robert Wilton Smith, was an English comedian and comic actor who was famous for his filmed monologues in the 1930s and 1940s in which he played incompetent authority figures.
2. Jimmy James (20 May 1892 – 4 August 1965)[1][2][3][4] was a music hall, film, radio and television comedian and comedy actor. James had limited use for jokes as such, preferring to say things in a humorous manner, sometimes in surreal situations and as such was seen by some as well ahead of his time. He was often hailed as a "comedians' comedian"
3. B.1926, d.2008, worked in the department of sociology at University of Sheffield. Obituary - https://www.sheffield.ac.uk/alumni/our-alumni/obituaries/peter-mann-obituary
4. Evelyn Laye, CBE (10 July 1900 – 17 February 1996) was an English actress who was active on the London light opera stage, and later in New York and Hollywood. Her first husband, actor Sonnie Hale, left her for Jessie Matthews, earning much public sympathy for Laye.
5. Lucia Elizabeth Vestris (née Elizabetta Lucia Bartolozzi; 3 March 1797 – 8 August 1856) was an English actress and a contralto opera singer, appearing in works by, among others, Mozart and Rossini. While popular in her time, she was more notable as a theatre producer and manager. After accumulating a fortune from her performances, she leased the Olympic Theatre in London and produced a series of burlesques and extravaganzas, especially popular works by James Planché, for which the house became famous. She also produced his work at other theatres she managed.
Irmgard Bartenieff (Tapes 64 & 65)
Biography
(1900 – 1981)
Bartenieff studied with Rudolf Laban in the 1924/5 and left for Germany after Hitler’s rise to power in 1933. She soon became involved in dance notation and helped establish the Dance Notation Bureau in New York. She studied with Warren Lamb and integrated his notion of Shape and Space into her BESS (Body Effort Shape Space). In America she studied physical therapy and became a pioneer of dance therapy. Her own approach to movement is called Bartenieff Fundamentals.
Summary of Interview
She first met Laban in 1924/5. A moving evocation of life under the Nazis after March 1933.
Her first experiments with Labanotation between ’36 and ’38 leading to the creation of the Dance Notation Bureau. Hanya Holm and how she managed to integrate Wigman’s aesthetic within American dance. Warren Lamb and the development of Effort Shape. Judith Kestenberg’s development of Laban’s ideas (via Lamb). The development of Bartenieff Fundamentals. The importance of Laban’s German books. Her family background. Life during World War I.
Tape 64
IB: When I came here I met on the first night in the house of a German refugee, Irma Otte Betz who was Viennese girl married to an American. And she was an architect. We made friends because she was burningly interested in notation.
JH: What year was that?
IB: Pardon?
JH: What year was that?
IB: It was 1936.
JH: The year of the Olympic Games.
IB: Over a year together, by 1938 we had the first studies in Laban notation to be published here. You didn’t know about it?
JH: No. What were they?
IB: We did it in our self-publication. We printed about 1,000 copies. Then we cut a profit. I tried to get back to Germany to get my children. And I asked them what the real [something about Russian or Prussian? inaudible]. As my friend Irma Otte Betz used to put it, He is the kind of Russian for whom waiting is an occupation. But while I was away we lived sort of in … Irma Otte-Betz had a very small apartment. So she had asked me to store this big box of printed things and our, which was also one room only. My husband decided to move to some other place and he forgot the box there and it went into the garbage truck. And we had only about fifty that were in circulation, and those that Betz had in her house. So that was such a terrible blow for all of us. But I was rude. I was really rude in every sense of the word. Because Otte- Betz didn’t want anything to do with me anymore and as far as John Martin was concerned, and also him. And now the other tragedy happened. As we moved to Pittsville because they had to start his practice in re-adaptation there. So then, two year later, she came down with a very rapid spread of cancer. And the saddest thing was that she also in her last month, she said she didn’t want to see me. She called John Martin to her hospital bed and asked him to take all the papers and all the whatever was left of that edition, I had one for myself only. And so then, and you know I had all kinds of things that I had brought from Germany, I had such a big box, with the symbols cut out in wood, one of my colleagues had done that for me before I emigrated. She gave it to John Martin personally. She brought it to his country house somewhere in Connecticut. It was just stored and rotted away, as we later found out. And, so she didn’t really take care of it. But I could not enter this… the office of John Martin any more till about five or six years later. Meanwhile I have been mainly doing family [inaudible] work, first, four years in Massachusetts and then in New York. And then of course, meanwhile, yes, and then came Ann Huttchinson, 1942, or something like that, and she got in touch with Hanya Holm, you we had sort of prepared the ground. And John Martin warned her against me. So she did the actual founding of the [Dance Notation] Bureau, was Ann Hutchinson, what’s her name Rodgers and another girl from … Henrietta Greenwood, she used to be called in her youth, but she has another married name now, which will come back to me. And those three are the official founders of the Dance Notation Bureau, which was ‘43/’44.
JH: And was housed in Hanya’s studio?
IB: Yes. Well, it was not exactly Hanya’s studios, but it was the headquarters for courses. Ann had her first thing in the elevator shaft of a house on 8th Avenue and 8th Street and it was in the back room of the studio that Joffrey was to have. We connected with the early choreographically
JH: When did it go to Hanya then?
IB: She only allowed to have courses taught in that situation, it was not a closer connection. Because there [inaudible few words] … I kept on teaching there. Then Ann came into that. That was the story.
[break in tape]
IB: In Germany just at a time I was emigrating and she belonged … that’s where the three founders – Helen Rodgers, Henrietta Greenwood and Ann Hutchinson.
JH: Ann Hutchinson came when?
IB: Around 1942.
JH: This is 1940.
IB: What was the time?
JH: The time was June 1940.
[break in tape]
JH: Who translated the first, the Laban notation idea? That was in ’38 was it?
IB: You see, when I came in ’36 I met Irma Betz and she was of course Graham, because she had studied by the first correspondence course that Suzanna Ivers had developed for Laban. Knust was not involved in that correspondence course, it was Suzanna Ivers and it was very incomplete and so on. Irma Betz was very shaky in her knowledge, so she grabbed me immediately and we worked, we worked first in the summer of ’36 from June till the end of August there, and we lectured together in Columbia, in the Vermont College, what do you call it, Bennington College, where they all were. I met John Martin, I met Martin Green, I met the girl that… at the Julliard School, you know. What’s her name?
VB: Martha Hill?
IB: Martha Hill – they were all there that summer. It was a very important summer for the American dance. And what was John Martin doing there? You know that he originally was in acting? And he then, you see, he felt to be more than just a dance critic. He felt he was a creator of the American dance style. That’s why he makes all the remarks about the existence of this dance. At the height when they thought they were creating really the American dance, with no other influence. So they were actually very hostile. And the reason that Hanya Holm had succeeded was she happened to be a very vigorous, dynamic personality that could sort of easily adapt. And she was in a Wigman robe, you know, who could very easily adapt to that vigorous, abstract style, between Humphrey, Wigman and Graham. She was a new element. There is a very famous column, to me very famous column where , and I do not know who it was, somewhere, four or five years after this, when she came, where John Martin praised her how she had found immediately the connection to the American soil. And I did not succeed because I had a very soft movement and represented sort of what they would call the worst of Laban style. And you see, the point was that already, the point that Irma Betz made, was that she said, ‘It’s not an outcome of Laban’s style of dance, it’s really something that goes way beyond that, it is universal in its application.’ She always had that thought when I lectured, I also emphasised that quite a lot. So they accepted me only on the grounds of association. That it was all wiped out by the fall of ’39, of ’38. In November I made this trick to get my children out of Germany. They were still there. And then I came back and that happened.
[break in tape]
JH: How did you go on developing your own approach towards it from that point?
IB: You see, I met Ann in about 1944.
JH: You can had been cut off from the Bureau up until that point?
IB: yes. I met her while I was in [inaudible] I went to the Principal of that [inaudible], so I met her, we met on the street on the road up to the [inaudible] and we discovered that we were both very interested in notation and she had heard about me.
JH: And you had heard about her?
IB: yes, I had heard a little bit that she was trained by Lisa and Jooss, and through Laban. And all of that. So she invited me to contribute to the Bureau, to what I could spare of my energy. You see, I came here with the complete translation of the L’art d’ecrire la danse of Feuillet that I had done together with Knust before I emigrated. And a number of these dances of [inaudible], I had already translated and also published by my own printing a minuet by Taubert. Another entry was the historical dance because my husband and I had done also reconstructions of those. But that even, that also didn’t really work because we couldn’t make a living out of it.
JH: You translated Feuillet into Laban notation?
IB: The whole L’art d’ecrire la danse.
JH: And that’s been published?
IB: Yes. You see, when I, a few years later, when the Notation Bureau became a little bit known, I tried to approach several publishers. Now, of course, everybody reads [inaudible] and doesn’t need a transcription into Laban notation. [inaudible sentence] … they have not a competition, they have not the same opinion of it. I, of course, was … then Knust at the Folkwangschule worked with Gisele Renber on some of these dances also. So he had published some of the things, but not the L’art d’écrire. That was never published. It rests as a manuscript in the Bureau. So these were sort of… but it had to do … I just had to succeed at my first thing. In America that is the point, really the point. But you see, by 1945 I was back in New York and of course in 1944 I had met Ann and she invited me to come to meetings because she had sort of a favourable impression in spite of the warnings of Irma Betz. And then I contributed a lot to all those and did some work, I was in all the discussions on the development of the notation.
[What follows, up to 00.37 is an account of the development of the Dance Notation Bureau, New York]
IB and Warren Lamb
IB: Laban sent me to Warren Lamb, but I studied with Warren Lamb almost four or five consecutive summers. I came for two or three weeks and had almost daily lessons with him. And then I came once [inaudible] and had a few lessons from Valerie [Preston Dunlop] and a few lessons from Marion [North] and took part of classes, after a lot of struggle, they allowed me to do in the middle of the semester. But meanwhile I had of course to apply the whole Effort thing in my rehabilitation work.
JH: Did you get most inspiration from Warren than from others?
[00.37.54 - How IB Developed her take on Effort Shape Through Warren Lamb
IB: Yes, the most. And I want to tell you something that I discussed also yesterday with my co-author/editor. You see, we had last Spring, when Marion came for the second time. She couldn’t sit down with all of us as though it was a matter of New York getting people together. She wanted really to know why we speak of it as a [team, cheat? inaudible]. So I said, she is very good with the symbols, of course it was the first thing I met with. And it took me the whole summer where I took a course for Marion and I talked to Warren, by 1956 or so, or ’57, to understand how they used the whole Effort, and what was their relationship to Space Harmony and Shape and all of that. And you see, I had always thought of, because of [inaudible], that the whole concept of Shape is based on the affinities. You see, this whole assessment rests on the fact of the interrelationship of the orbits of Shaping, it continues only the orbit of it, then it began to dawn on me that because he had that specific focus of executive behaviour, that he couldn’t do anything with direction. This was not what worked to define the adaptation in, the spatial adaptation. I took this always for spatial adaptation what he called Shape, which I think is right. Because otherwise the affinities, you know, that go together with the dimensional scale, only that he enlarged it into the orbit, planar movement as the decisive kind. So then I began to see also that Warren Lamb stressed variation Effort, the points where changes occurred, where transitions occurred. Into what did they change? While Marion collected all the possibilities of combination which gave her the access to the inner attitudes which Warren Lamb simply did not consider. Then it began to dawn on me what Laban had always done, that he gave to the people what he thought the people needed, or what they could digest at that time. But meanwhile in the visit of Marion North also was Kestenberg who had been corresponding with Warren Lamb who had been seeing him before, already two summers and taking sessions with him, and paid him very well for that. So I began to see that, I began to see two things: 1. That the kind of thing that Laban promotes is that the whole framework of concept is a very elastic framework and that already, without fully realising that, in my training of people I had always emphasised, I consider you understand the Laban concept. If you recognise that also in applications, you know, ‘What has been used’? But that was a slow process to get them to that point, you know. They got only confused. But Marion North says this and Warren Lamb says that. But you see, I was forced into, I do even count that as a special merit of mine, but the circumstances here in America forced me to think harder and to put it into perspective. But I think, I taught my really first official course in Effort and Space Harmony, and at that time many things I had to dig out from the past and have only talked to myself because in my work I thought in space, as soon as I got notice of the Effort I merely translated that into my rehabilitation work. And when I found different solutions, unconventional, I was met with the idea, ‘She’s just a very intuitive person.’ Well, you couldn’t talk about principles to the rehabilitation people. So, you see that was a sort of hard school, but which I am increasingly recognising, is a very good school. [00.44.25]
JH: Were you able to explain to Marion?
IB: Nothing. [David? inaudible] understood better, much better. In fact, he is deeply interested in sort of what I call fundamentals. You see I am the last person to want to be understood because I have not been understood for over twenty years, so it doesn’t really matter in one way. But I am also … knowing Laban. You see, I had to fend on my own and forced me to find things that I hadn’t known before and kept me also curious all the time to discover something I hadn’t known and that goes on still, really now. When I read every half year when I read Mastery of Movement or in Choreutics, I hadn’t understood before, which has deepened. And because I also have seen now many things in the ethnic and in the behaviour, that has really created many connections. So I didn’t get stuck with one particular thing that Laban had taught me. You see that was my…
JH: I think that’s one of the problems about the English period of Laban, that he didn’t ever give anybody a broad vision.
IB: I know that.
JH: But it’s very frightening because they’ve all taken a bit and have pursued, developed it even, but not understood it in a total context and I think that’s a quality of English thinking, of the people that Laban came across, and I think this is one of the things that a German mind, I find that amongst all the German women that Laban was linked with, a much wider philosophical appreciation.
IB: Like Sylvia [Bodmer]. Sylvia is … that paper. Did you hear that paper in the conference… I was just …
JH: It’s a pity that Lisa didn’t come and contribute. It was a great mistake.
IB: In the last visit … it was not good… [inaudible]
JH: of course, but you see, that’s a pity that Lisa didn’t sit down, hadn’t sat down and thought it through.
IB: Yes, she could do better.
JH: She wouldn’t have Sylvia’s thinking capacity, but she could have a lot of understanding, Sylvia wouldn’t have.
IB: Well, she could a much more… going a lot deeper, which would
JH: I don’t think anybody in the English scene has got that understanding. They all know Laban in a post-War Laban and don’t understand the roots.
IB: You see that’s why I come back to, all the time translating from the early books Laban wrote. I have now this last year I started Dance and Gymnastics. I mean there are two quotes in that article, beautiful.
JH: I mean the good thing about all Laban’s thinking and writing is that it’s pretty well basic. He always returns to first principles and that’s what he … he may here and there want to change, alter, modify but he never totally supersedes.
IB: And you see. Now if Lisa and Marion attack us here for Effort Shape, I feel about that, that Laban, I feel that he, in a way, like me, feels to the last moment of our lives we think we are making new connections. So he didn’t want too early to connect really. He had that concept of the dynamosphere in contrast to the spatial icosahedron, or anything of that kind. He had set already the stage for the interconnection of Effort and spatial pattern, you know, if you want to call it that way. But he didn’t want to be nailed down by that, you know. But you see on my justification for using that Shape concept is that of course it is not quite fully even fulfilling what we have to deal with. Because you see in a developmental thing you deal with pre-Shape, you deal with pre-Directional movement and that’s why, where the Shapeful concept for them is tremendously useful to us. And if you would listen to the tapes in the discussion of three of my colleagues with David McKittrick, it went for two hours. It circled around this concept of Shape-Flow of Shaping, of Shape, of Space Harmony.
JH: Why is time left out?
Judith Kestenberg and the Kestenberg Movement Profile
IB: We didn’t, we had no bones to break or to do middle at as far as Effort was concerned. But it was the concept of the spatial, you know, that Laban, that Warren Lamb had deduced this spatial to orbit, you know, and that we had felt already that the dimensional things in babies, young children’s movement, that the orbits were not yet developed, you know. You see, our first correspondence with Kestenberg was really … and Warren Lamb, was that we tried to define the biological rhythms. We used full Efforts, you know, and all kinds of things, for things like urinating and defecating and … that was sort of… Kestenberg had sort of an idea that somewhere in these rhythms lay the … lay something in the organisation of rhythms in the human body which is a very, which is, to me, a very acceptable idea. And so, inner rhythm, you know and she developed that what she called tension-flow. Have you ever seen her recording sheets?
JH: No
IB: Well, you will. She saw - this is really fantastic – you see when I met Kestenberg… Let me digress at the moment and then go back. I had met Kestenberg. She had been writing sort of codes of movement and then she had read some place about Laban and she looked for some Laban person. She had first thought Betty Meredith Jones. Betty Meredith Jones refused to work with her. She was really too narrow in that sense. So, then I think I,
[Break in tape 00.53.25 – 00.54.05]
IB: … a completely Freudian trained analyst. A psychiatrist with a doctorate.
JH: what’s her special area of investigation?
Kestenberg and Freud
IB: Child development. And she is… I think she has really a parallel… and she wanted to develop a kind of developmental scheme that would parallel Anna Freud’s developmental scheme. So she was, in way, structurally-bound. She had to fit her movement discoveries into that model, somehow. And it showed in their first interpretation was very much Freudian, anal and clonic stuff. But gradually, over the years, it was clear, it became clear to us who watched it, and some people in our circles, were deadly set against her, but I began to see that if you did think of these patterns just as a pattern, they did appear in a certain sequence that was developmental, you know. And the emphasis was towards control of the bladder, then together that a child can also run and start a movement, these kind of connections that she made and a number of others in that line that I felt they were very significant because certainly, I could go along without making speaking of clonic rhythms in babies, but I am beginning to see now that there are maybe really clonic rhythms in babies already, because when you compare girls and boys. But we not have the right words for that, really. I mean the Freudian term is just too, too limiting, because it has acquired a certain connotation. But you see now, after using this nearly twenty years, because it was in the ‘50s when I began to work with her, the second part of the fifties, that she tells me, ‘This last summer I had a long talk.’ We have now occasionally long talks when we ... There came a point when it was impossible to work with her because she was overwhelmingly Freudian interpretive. [Inaudible] we took, and that turned her off Marion very much when we visited in England because she was too ready always to do the interpretation and not seek the movement tension. But now she tells me she spent three summer studying in Kibbutz, children in families growing up in Israel, she tells me, this summer she said to me, ‘I do not [Inaudible] Freud’s interpretation any more. I see all the evidence that makes me interpret any movement. And I found that very significant. On that basis we now have a sort of new-found basis of talking with each other. Not that we ever had bad relationship, but it was sort of intolerable, it was just intolerable. Of course Marion is turned off by her
JH: Still?
[break in tape]
IB: And this great refinement. I think she does a lot more than the profile of Warren Lamb, because she investigates several aspects.
[break in tape]
JH: How did Force [?] develop?
IB: Around 1960 a committee that consisted of Elizabeth and various department heads of academic dance, not of anybody of the Ballet companies or even … well Martha Graham and people were not directly involved but …
[break in tape]
Description of her course
IB: They had a course of three terms … we had worked out a programme that in Space Harmony you cover a certain amount that leads into the Ikosaeder [icosahedron] and into peripheral scales. In Effort you cover everything, Flow concepts, to full Efforts, to incomplete Efforts and Drives. We are supposedly to discuss that; what we call our training programme. Because in some ways we seem to … of course you see our course is… and I am very, very aware and at times, it feels very handicapped, we are doing a job of dispensing knowledge of Laban’s theories in a movement illustrated form, in a rather condensed form. All the English people that came and we said, ‘In the first semester we do that and’ – ‘What? You do that already?’ You know, things like that. But I keep on saying, I said, ‘We have negative and positive results with that. And we have only an elite begins to get from this condensed transmission of knowledge, begin to apply either immediately or come back to us, begin to teach with us as co-teachers, or assistants, and then discover the full depths of it, or in their projects. At the end of that time they have to do an independent project that can be anything from composing a choreography to choosing a dancer for a particular choreography to a behavioural project, you know some pure observation project. Anything, but it has to be their own work, you know. We advise them on it. We supervise them also. That shows us that [inaudible] and we find of course that the people that have either a teaching experience or a performing experience or have been a combination of movement and sort of therapeutic approach, a psychological approach, they do best when they apply it in their own field.
[break in tape]
JH: How many colleges have the notation?
IB: I am feeling close to one hundred.
JH: And they have a permanent notator on the staff and make it part of their education?
IB: Well, they have a certified teacher on the staff.
JH: certified notation teacher?
IB: Notation teacher.
JH: certified by the Bureau?
IB: Yes. But notator is a different matter. A notator is a high skill that is like in a conservatory when you train up to performance level, you know.
JH: Except that notation
[break in tape]
IB: … bound flow and then I have a little indirectness and a little quickness at the end, you know, so that this kind of curve
JH: And Warren developed that?
IB: And that is beautiful. Of course Warren has not developed this as a sequence so much, but he has made us see how often it may change. He has put us up that variation and change is in the process of any action and what is sort of, and even is very boring, and has no impact you know. Either arousing someone when they are sitting sort of like that, mushy, you know. Doesn’t arouse anybody’s interest or response.
JH: And in fact it’s not mushy, in fact it’s very clear.
IB: Too clear. Too much one [inaudible]
JH: Do you think that Laban hadn’t got that far?
IB: Laban has gotten… I mean what Lamb has gotten out of Laban is you expect every moment changes and you see this has for instance, you see how long this all takes. I am ashamed sometimes what I didn’t see back then.
Bartenieff’s Fundamentals
Now this… but training with 50 people and giving 50 people that background of what I call Fundamentals it only occurred to me that - and you see I was probably also influenced by my physical therapy background – that to speak, certain muscles are tense and you have to do something about to change attention, that is sort of the crust, simplified thing. [inaudible] said that to start in a certain way and do really… pursue a direction or a spatial pattern and that causes the energy and the Effort to change, but what I am trying to have found out in the last two years, which is [inaudible] really do Fundamentals now, a method that people, and you see that they understand the exact nature before the input now. You see, I have for instance, I have a girl that everybody calls very tense, that is by our terms much too general to speak just tense. Now I … lifting the leg lying up, where I see you hollow yourself in order to get a rounder shape she puts in a shrinking. Each time she shrinks first before she does any move. There is where the shape-flow concept is so valuable, because it shows you those not specially definable, not just by Effort-flow definable, little inputs that interfere with the clear development of the shape of the movement. And this kind of thing. So I see initiation is the … which is a Laban concept…
[break in tape]
Gertrud Loeszer
IB: So as Loeszer taught Eukinetics, the ‘how’ of the movement in which was included into thinking about transference of weight as one of the expressive things, weight distribution is an expressive factor, you know. She would probably easily agree.
JH: And those are?
IB: Those are Choreutics and she had a clarity, beautiful, beautiful and I remember Laban giving a dance evening with her, he was like a magician. She had all abstract titles in the lower diagonals. They were loose studies and they were all in terms of the Space Harmony, what you call [inaudible], in Munich this was. She looked as if she was getting a pulling out of this marvellously flexible spatially aware, she was a very intelligent woman.
JH: Loeszer?
IB: Yea, yea. How he extracted the movement really was marvellous.
JH: Was Bereska intelligent?
IB: yes, oh yes. Bereska was a Russian and she had this combination where intelligence and feeling that is very closely interlinked. She was… I adored her also.
JH: Did she have many followers?
IB: Well, I am not sure now. And of course Felicia Sachs loved her, you know.
JH: But Felicia didn’t work with her the same way as you did.
IB: No, she had a sort of private, solo status.
JH: [Laughs long]. Exactly, hmmm. Yes. But he did have a lot of intelligent women. I think more intelligent women than he had later. I think he regretted it. I think one of the sad things about Laban’s later days was that the English women he gathered around him were not of the same intelligence as
IB: I am inclined to believe that, yes.
JH: I think there’s almost something about
[break in tape]
IB: He used to say all this. You know, he is Hungarian, you know, as you well may know. He said, I stayed in Germany because a German kind of mind responded best to the [inaudible] of my ideas. I heard him repeatedly say that. And of course, I’m very much inclined to believe because there are certain aspects of … you see, I had long talks in the last few years with a Cambridge-trained ethologist who I found a very profound man and very thorough in his thinking. And we used to have long talks about 19th Century trends of philosophy and all of that. He was an ethologist, he examined [inaudible] behaviour through ritual paths of behaviours. I began to add the Effort concepts. And it was interesting that we talked very often how untranslatable certain things of a German academic, philosophy, just a basic philosophy of learning, or the basic openness to research which produced all these fantastic philologists, that discovered inya, you know Sanskrit, the German Sanskrit men, or the Chinese Wilhelm who was a missionary and who discovered the depths and width of Chinese thought, that that was typically German really – to be able to grow in these different realms, you know. Of course the English, when they had India, they did also penetrate some of the thoughts of the Indian thought, you know. But the real philology, the real getting down to the language units and all of that, was very typically German, of a very wide and flexible mind. It was really the best kind of
JH: The women that he had, had also transcended the German.
IB: Oh yes, that’s right.
JH: There is a national quality about your
IB: Well you see I have a French maiden name and my maternal family comes from that border where France, Belgium and Holland and Germany come together. It is a very old tradition there of certain industries.
JH: That may be why Germany was the right place because it was a kind of mixture, a hybrid, ironically
IB: You are right. That is a very good … a very good remark.
JH: Ironically, I suppose, what was making Laban flourish was the hybrid quality of the German mind when Hitler was trying to build the pure race, something that would be the excellent, without having the wisdom to see that excellence comes through mixing, not through a pure strain.
IB: And you see we on the side valleys of the Rhine, we were very varied. We had types that looked just Italian from the Roman times, yet in Southern Germany, Swabia and Bavaria types that are very Mongolian. That was Genghis Khan. And a lot of seeds have be sown through the centuries in the transition. And in the nearest part of Prussia, the Slavic influences were just as strong as the so-called Germanic influences. Silesia, East Prussia, of course some of the things are already Polish now, since World War Two.
JH: And you were brought up where?
IB: I was brought up in Berlin but my feeling of home was Western Germany, between Cologne and Aachen.
JH: Where did you live most?
IB: I was in Berlin.
JH: Can you tell me anything about the atmosphere, the artistic atmosphere, the political atmosphere, your own schooling, the general feeling…
IB: That’s interesting because I’m writing down some of these things at present, trying to sort this out. You see, my father was a state official, working for the Reich. He was in what you would call here The Treasury. And so he was stationed in Berlin. He himself came from the middle Rhine, from a French Huguenot family that had landed there. So my maiden name is Dolbois, a very French name. And my mother was, of course, from this family Prym, a completely un-German name, probably of Flemish roots, and there’s a lot of influx of connections to Italy, connections to France, connections to Flanders, you know. And so actually we were … and it was very interesting when the Nazis came, this inheritance, which made me think so hard of … that really, our genes comprise some of our spiritual and other kind of thinking abilities inherited, belong to that gene system. I could not understand this whole thing.
JH: You knew the Nazis were coming?
IB: Yah, so you see I lived seven years in Munich. I was really grown up and I married a young historian of ancient history, very German, very Prussian. I divorced him after six years. And then I met my Russian husband. And the point is that I, from the early youth while we were in Berlin and I grew up in the most conventional way.
JH: What was the convention?
IB: First of all, I was to go at least twice a month to the Protestant services of Do, which the Kaiser attended the services. Or to the military church where the Kaiser attended the services. I am part of Shlecht [inaudible]. I felt a growing resistance and I had a particular resistance with a feeling, why should worldly power be mixed up with political power? So you know, I had this very strong feeling about that. My mother was very indifferent altogether, because the Rheinish people, there was a sort of liberal spirit, though she was protestant in a catholic thing which could have made her a fanatic. But she wasn’t, she was very liberal and
JH: You resisted your father’s approach?
IB: Very much, very much. And also then training in social dancing, this sort of [inaudible] name. And I had a very, very low opinion of them because I used say they only know the military list: the army list and the Gothar was a calendar, like a social register, from the point of the social aristocrats, you know.
JH: where do you get that independence of thinking from?
Ib: from my grandfather, my paternal grandfather. When he heard that I will refuse to concede to my father’s wish to marry some rich aristocrat, he sent me the pearls of my grandmother and said, ‘Keep it up!’ And he was of course, delightful because he, you see his firm, which is a brass industry, existed since 1585, in the same spot. There are six or seven families partly also this Flemish-mixed names, some with lower-Rhine names. The dialect of the peasants is very close to Dutch and Flemish.
[01.21.00 – 23.59 More about her family history, particularly her paternal grandfather.]
JH: What part did your schooling play in this?
IB: I went to the German gymnasium and I happened to strike… you see between 1910 and 12 the development of the women’s gymnasium, I don’t know the English… Eton
JH: Grammar School, Public School.
IB: There was a system in Berlin and I went to them.
JH: What was the curriculum about?
[IB describes the curriculum]
JH: And what gave you your interest in dance?
IB: It went over biology.
JH: Was there dance on the school curriculum?
IB: No. No, nothing of that kind. Nothing.
JH: Movement?
IB: In the last year of my schooling I got introduced into Mensendieck that came up. Mensendieck was a great success in Germany. Of course, she was an American.
JH: Dalcroze?
IB: Dalcroze, I hated.
JH: You met him?
IB: At the age of 12 to 14. What I enjoyed in the age of 8 – 10, my mother sent us to a Russian movement, from the Baltic provinces, they spoke German fluently, who taught a sort of rhythmical gymnastics and swinging of ropes and so on, with music. That was a delightful thing and I count several people who later went into the Modern Dance that had this childhood training. So I consider that’s really quite important. But the school itself was rather terrible in physical education.
JH: Okay, your father was employed by the Third Reich?
IB: No. By the Kaiser.
JH: Ah, pre-First World War.
IB: He was still going to court receptions with uniforms, britches and white stockings and shoes. We were two sisters. And we lost our youngest brother very early and we two girls, well it was awfully funny. We had very little reverence for this kind of thing.
JH: And what impression did that early period make on you?
IB: I was aware of the stimulation
JH: Of the First World War. Were you worried, anxious?
IB: No, in the summer of 1914 me and my grandmother were in this little frontier town near the Belgian frontier. We were always there in summer, we were 18 – 20 people there, always in the country. That was the wife of the family [inaudible]. And in 1914 we saw the beginning of the war and my grandmother, typical for her, she was… she had very big interest in social work, also. She set up a little kitchen at the station, and we grandchildren we had to help distributing soup and bread to the soldiers. And we saw the shine of Liege, of the battle of Liege, we saw from our windows.
JH: Was it frightening for you?
IB: I felt a dark shadow fell down. When I came back at the end of August to Berlin I couldn’t understand that the life went on as usual in Kufürstendamm everyone in the cafés. I had had such an impression of the war, because we saw the first wounded coming back and all of that.
JH: But it went on in Berlin as usual.
IB: Yes
JH: Right through the war.
IB: Pretty much so. Because it ended and there were these terrible times of 1918, we were at the end of the war. Everything went so of haywire.
JH: And do you remember that?
IB: Oh yes.
JH; Can you describe that?
IB: I did my final exam 1918 which is called Abitur in German.
JH: This is your school exam?
IB: My school exam.
[Drink is served]
JH: I’ll put you into a taxi to go home. So that was the year before the war ended?
IB: Yes, it was already changing. There were food shortages. I remember girls that were graduating with me being really weakened by the food shortage, they fell asleep in the lessons because of the food shortage.
JH: You knew this?
IB: Yes, yes, yes. I was a little bit better off because my grandfather invite us to the country, they had a cow, they had a garden with fresh vegetables. But it was very limited too.
JH: Was there a lot of indoctrination against the, the enemy? Did you feel hostile?
[Description of her life just after the War ended.]
IB: Then, between 1918 and ’19 all of a sudden with the breakdown of the German thing came the flourish of … immediately of the whole expressive thing. There were modern school ideas, the experimental schools. 1919. Right after the war. There was a breakout of Expressionism, interesting artistic… and we began to look at that, of course.
JH: How did the end of the war strike you? Were you worried by
IB: Very depressing. Very glum. But my mother was very much encouraging my going to university. She said it was very essential. My father didn’t really care. He wanted me to marry me off to aristocratic circles. To me it was just impossible. You see I had marvellous teachers in this city school. You see that was a generation that were all, they all had their PhD degrees, they were really… I had a French teacher who was a philosopher and [inaudible], you know. I had a history teacher who was really a brilliant man, you know. Whom I had already from the age of 9 or 10, my first course in ancient history, in one year we went through the Greek and Roman history and I remember we knew all the consuls and the whole succession. He demanded a tremendous lot of … And he laughed at me when I said, I cannot memorise so fast and he laughed, ‘You’re doing alright’ he said to me. But you see I had a terrific stimulus. There was in the last two, three years there were my interest in development, into biology, into language, particularly. I read medieval German and old German, Hoch Deutsch, Old High German. I read that in the original, fluently. Nibelung Saga and Parsifal. And you see, there began also, already a distinction and a rebellion against the romanticising thing. At the age of 17 I read Parsifal. It was the first time in Cologne, it was the first time it [presumably Wagner’s opera of the same name?] was given out of Bayreuth. Up to that it was only given in Bayreuth. And it was the greatest disappointment of my life, because I saw he was moralising, he was putting philosophy into that. It was really shady. And the music I found also exaggerated and shady and not really dramatic. I had a strong feeling about that and it has stayed with me that opinion of Richard Wagner. In fact, 1936 when I was no longer able to dance, and before we emigrated, I did a reconstruction of a Rameau opera which a musician friend of mine had unearthed from the library, directly from the library. That had never been done. In the ‘20s and ‘30s, this whole revival of Handel. All of this was in Germany. It was really incredible what happened in those years. And in the middle of the rehearsals of the Rameau, I was invited to see Tannhäuser. I misbehaved. I was like a little girl because I thought it was the most ridiculous thing I ever heard or saw in my life, because after really, these… though these baroque operas are sort of symbolic opera, but to me they had, they are made of action. I understood action through them. And I understood mood through them. And relationships, and not this artificial kind of thing which I found in Wagner. At just one level and so chased to death, you know. That prepared me for the music-less dance. I saw maybe Indekoven, that was the rage of about 1920 or so.
JH: Did you see any of Laban’s dances?
IB: Well, I moved 1923, I moved. That was my first marriage and we moved to Munich and in Munich I met a Laban person who had been in the Ascona group. Lankovet. Daughter of a Munich painter. Very artistic family. The younger sister of her I was very fond of because she was a painter and very fine feeling for movement and we formed a little group. That’s how I really got into dance. After trying Loheland, this was a sort of aesthetic gymnastics with red [inaudible] and things like that. And you see I stayed away from Wigman, also because I felt I didn’t want to be swallowed.
JH: And you thought you would be?
IB: yes.
JH: What right did you think you were going to be swallowed?
IB: I saw in every performance all the girls looked like her. Little Mary Wigmans. The same with Martha Graham, exactly the same way.
JH: So where were you in the ‘20s and 30s, then? The early ‘30s until the time you left.
IB: In ’29 I was in Munich.
JH: And what was the atmosphere in Munich.
IB: I loved Munich, I loved Munich.
JH: Laban had left by then?
IB: In that time between ’25 and ’27 I was with Laban. And then Laban moved to Berlin and I moved to Berlin.
JH: Laban moved to Berlin when?
IB: Sort of ‘28/’29.
JH: He came to America in 1928.
IB: Those years between ’25 and ’29 were very unsettled years. And I must say, it was practically, I was terrifically lucky, I was in Würzeburg with him. Really, from Munich I came to Würzeburg and meanwhile my then husband became professor in Leipzig and he thought it was interesting that I wanted to do all these things. But I needed more freedom. So by ’29 I divorced him and went back to Munich.
JH: Was the atmosphere like in Munich in which you were working with Laban?
IB: I didn’t work with Laban in Munich. That was my chorus. We did little performances.
JH: Where was Laban working?
IB: Laban, I do not recall. When I started this course, it was still in Hamburg and then Jooss, I think, separated and went to Munster, you know, took the theatre.
JH: When did you meet Vera Tashimira?
IB: Here in the United States.
JH: Not before?
IB: Not before. She was in Hamburg. That is a strange thing, the Tashamira story. A sad story.
JH: She had a very interesting beginning. She was working with A.S. Neill before she came to Laban. Anyway, go on, describe the atmosphere in Munich.
IB: To me, after the Prussian Berlin it was liberation! And relaxation and joy of life, which my original Rheinish temperament was very [inaudible].
JH: Would you say that was the atmosphere in the city?
IB: You see the great, bohemian time was actually just before World War
JH: One
IB: This was post-war and it was not quite the astounding people who were there.
JH: What led to the bohemian for a time? Were there any factors in the…
IB: There were also some communist circles at that time and of course there was a real café life like in Vienna. You could sit with a cup of coffee a whole morning and do your writing or reading the papers. All the gossip of other artists, the talk through the tables, you know, with other people. And my then husband was preparing a major book on Alexander the Great, used to go into a café and write, not at home. He would not talk very much to other people. He was not a very sociable person. But he sort of absorbed … also being rather uptight, as you would say now… he absorbed this atmosphere with a certain relish.
JH: I like to write in cafes, I prefer cafes. I can’t write at home.
IB: I begin to write in every place. There were intimate cabarets in Munich which were partly political, partly aesthetic, or a mixture of the two. Very interesting. And then of course the excellent theatre in Munich. Kammerspiele and the small … all had … after Rheinhardt, a new flavour you know. Max Rheinhardt had dominated Berlin and this was … had a more intimate, more … it lacked the radicalism of a Piscator or … I knew, you know. But it had many other kinds of … intimate theatre, [Frank] Wederkind and
JH: You saw the Wederkind work?
IB: Some which had been shown already before.
J: was it shocking?
IB: Not really, because I was very … I didn’t like Hesse … I can still not understand that Siddhartha and Steppenwolf [novels by Hermann Hesse]. It is at present making whoopee in America. I still think him really as a … he has a certain ability to tell stories, you know, I mean as a novelist or so. But he’s too philosophical, he smells too philosophical, you know what I mean? While there as one man in that whole ‘20s/’30s thing who I considered to be … and I met him now in an English translation, only a few years ago, that was the man who wrote the Case of … my memory is terrible. He was a Jewish writer who was a tremendous story-teller and a tremendous depicter of …he described the subtle antisemitism of the war year, or before war years and so he … and he also described the figure of a prosecutor of really tremendous proportions whom his adolescent son finds out that he did a misjudgement on a certain case … it’s called ‘the so-and-so case’. It’s a tremendous suspense story and I like suspense stories but it also was with a marvellous sense of the psychology of the crumbling of that figure, by this innocent, pure young boy who zeros in on his father, goes once a week on home, and lives with all the people around this case and he helps to convict, to establish that he condemned an innocent man to years of prison. It is a fantastic book. The Mauritius Case. I think it’s a very good ‘20s/’30s story. From many points of view. […]
IB: I was really the one who went out and broke down all this conventional stuff you know. I was not the kind of activist, you know.
JH: Did you find it hard to break away from that?
IB: I do not know how hard it was because there was this understanding atmosphere in my maternal family. I had one child-less aunt who was devoted to the arts. She herself was an amateur singer with a beautiful voice. And she collected very modern art, very modern art. And she build a house in 1912 with the colour scheme that is now, sort of you find in every … strong cobalt blue, yellow and black and white. This was the colour scheme in her house in 1912. So there was a sort of strange, liberal-minded feeling
JH: That was music, what about Berlin?
IB: Berlin, I did not get the full impact of the ’25 – ’30, what is shown now in Cabaret, came to its full movement. I had some whiffs of it, you know. And I must say that the kind of vulgarity that Cabaret, the film describes is very well put. Because that’s what I saw, which is very different from the vulgarity of the West near the Rhine. There is a very great vulgarity but it is more like Dutch vulgarity.
JH: Why was that vulgarity expressing itself at that time?
IB: That was the dissolution of many restrictions. Many people get impoverished. Many people returning from the war had a taste of things, of vulgarity, of cruelty, of sadism in many forms.
JH: When did the restrictions start again?
IB: I didn’t see that. That was coming with the new order of Hitler. In 1924, in ’23 or ’24, I attended a party in Munich and there was a lady who said, Oh I met [Erich] Ludendorff [a famous general in WWI] at a party and he spoke about this man Hitler and everybody began to speak in 1924 about Hitler in Munich and I said to Ludendorff, ‘I thought Hitler was for my milk woman and for my postman. I didn’t think anybody else would take him seriously.’ She said that to Lutendorf and you know of course he was already chummy with Hitler at that [end of tape]
Tape 65
IB: And my younger son, it was cruel to separate the two sons.
[Further discussion of her family and the education of her sons.]
Living with the Nazis after March 1933
IB: … and these people, the anthropologists, supposedly non-realistic, they saw the whole thing, understood the threat to whole spiritual life and in their way they were very, they took children that were half-Jewish like my children, and that they did a sort of underground support of all the forces that were to them valued. Which was a sort of courageous … it was the only kind of courageous
JH: How did you know actually it was so dangerous, what direct manifestation did you feel?
IB: Well some of my radical political friends, besides my Jewish friends,
JH: They were removed?
IB: Yes
JH: Where?
IB: Well, some into concentration camps…
JH: This was ’36?
IB: Since the start, right after ’33, you know it started actually.
JH: There were concentration camps in ’33?
IB: Oh yes. There was Brandenburg which is a suburb of Berlin. There were many who disappeared.
JH: Why couldn’t they see this?
IB: I had a German cousin in Southern Germany, of course she lived in a lovely little Black Forest little town, she told me after the War that - it makes me speechless – she had not known till 1944 that something like concentration camps existed which I knew from ’34 onwards, you know. And this of course alienated myself from all my family, from the more conservative friends, I had not really so many conservative friends because I was mainly in these liberal circles.
JH: But how did people ignore it? Was it hushed up? Was it very… rumours only … people ignore it… when friends disappear what do you say?
IB: Yes. But you see… it was a mentality that nobody, including myself, because I couldn’t understand how you could ignore it. I used to go to this beautiful costume library which is in the centre of the city, not very far from the Ministry where Hitler and also around the place that the SS in the cellars tortured people. And I was each time, I was bothered by knowing that this was the place.
JH: How did you know, How did you know?
IB: I had some friends that had been there.
JH: They told you they’d been tortured. For political interrogation?
IB: Some were catholic writers, they were not all Jewish.
JH: And why were they tortured?
IB: Because they had written some liberal article.
JH: And was this meant to correct them?
IB: Yes. And some then disappeared, also in prisons. Or they had refused the Heil Hitler salute or something like that.
JH: Was the torture punishment or correction?
IB: It was part of an investigation. To get the truth out of them, they had what you call brainwashing.
JH: And were they brainwashed?
IB: And they had such refined methods such as the Soviets later developed but they were really very crude.
JH: People ignored it or people daren’t talk about it.
IB: They didn’t talk about it. They were paralysed like a rabbit in car lights, or by a snake. I never could understand not to see it. You see I was not the person who was going to start a big anti movement. But I certainly saw the reality of that and was certainly determined … and I was not like Dr Sachs [husband of Felicia Sachs] who would comply with law and order. That was not enough for me to induce me even to … And you see in 1938 when I came, I tell the example of little, gentle mother, we went in Berlin to a store that just had been plundered, it was a Jewish store of men’s fashion, and I wanted to buy some shirts and things for my husband. And we entered this store, I could see that the owner of the store immediately was on tenter hooks, seeing these two non-Jewish people coming to his store. And I ordered quite a number of things and paid in German money and then I said, ‘I have it, will you please send it to this [inaudible] please because we are going to leave for America.’ And the kind of relief in that man’s face when I gave him to understand that I was a refugee myself was incredible. So, I went out of the store and said, ‘Did you see how this man, how nervous he got?’ And my mother said, ‘yes, come to think of it, yes.’ And then we get to a café and she said, ‘Will you really take the children out of this country?’ I said, ‘I am determined to take these children out, I will not’… And then she said, ‘Maybe you could send them to the Kaiser Wilhelm Institut where they measure people, take measurements of people, and determine how Aryan or not Aryan they are.’ So I said, ‘Do you understand what you are saying?’ I didn’t yell at her. ‘Can you understand what you are saying?’ How the brow of eyes, the link with the ear should determine whether my sons can get a higher education in Germany, do you think that is, that you could tolerate that? Maybe they could be made Aryan, because they are a mixture. Just impossible, I couldn’t even think about it.
JH: Did she understand that?
IB: Well, she sort of… not quite. It was the vagueness of the patrician who always get their way, you know. That was a great danger of the class that really should have had the moral responsibility to uphold … you see it would be a better class of … a better middle class, or patrician class that would have been somewhat more rigid than my family was, wouldn’t have let things to happen. It was a too laissez-faire attitude.
JH: It’s interesting that after the First World War, that that could happen. It always strikes me, looking back now, particularly in our present state, this could ride forth. Everybody was disillusioned after the First World War, how could it ride in so quickly?
IB: Well it was ... people suffered really. The inflation and, plus the
JH: This was a better life than the inflation period
IB: He promised again stability, you know? And security.
JH: Even under those conditions, people were prepared to settle for it, because the depression had been so bad?
IB: Yes, and of course, you see Germans are very much… It’s not just stability. [inaudible] They are very much for having property, owning things, manipulating things.
JH: So are Americans.
IB: I know, I know
JH: But you find it a better life?
IB: Yes
JH: Why?
IB: Because it’s more mobile. You see they don’t take. You see for a German to lose his property is the end of the world.
JH: Talk about this in movement terms.
IB: You see the American picks himself up and tries something else. If he hasn’t been done with directness he will try indirectness or something else. In the same family, this is what I was to find out when I was in the [inaudible] also. I knew a family when the family was a policeman, there was one son who was also a policeman, one son was a salesman, one daughter married into the New England patrician families, one other daughter married a gardener, you know. In one family you had a whole spectrum of classes through marriage, through lives, through choice of profession and so on. So that you had to leave behind your prejudices that there were fixed classes and this I liked very much, because I had suffered from belonging to a kind of class. What bothered me most about my patrician security was that it clouded the sense of reality, that it didn’t see the dangers really. That they are threatening to their own lives. It was not just their property. Of course, my mother’s family had a big factory, they survived the inflation very well, because they kept on producing, that was no value, that was no problem. But it was the … working with the restrictions of the Nazis, you for instance, what was interesting in the factory, this I heard much later, after the war, when the Nazis came and tried to install SS people in every factory, you know they watched the political orientation of the workers and so on, they tried that in the factory of my then uncle as my grandfather had died meanwhile, the whole… you see they have longtime workers in that factory, longtime foremen that were not just hired people, that were people who had loyalty to the whole enterprise, and the first SS came into that factory the foremen and the workers appeared with their tools and stood there just quietly in the yard of the factory and the Nazis did really not dare to put a very severe surveillance on that factory. But that was Rhineland, that was lower Rhine. They wouldn’t have done that around Berlin or Saxonia or any of these industrial kind of things. It was a small, a relatively small firm but it had a very definite relationship to their factory and they were not going to be taken on so easily by the Nazis.
JH: Were you already worried at that time by SS
IB: Between ’33 and ’36 I was worried all the time that something to us could happen.
JH: That you might not even get out?
IB: Uh huh. My children left in the beginning of August ’39 and my mother and my aunt brought the two children to the Europa, to the German ship and they were given a special stewardess to take care of them and there was of course the SS men sitting looking at the passports and asking questions. Where are the parents and why are they in America? So we said, ‘These are half-Jewish children, so my mother said with the [inaudible] of the protective patrician, said, ‘They are my grandchildren’. That was all she had to say! I partly touched and partly Oh God, you know.
JH: And what happened?
IB: They were sort of let on the ship, you know. They didn’t take them away. But you see I was never tempted to use the protection of that family for myself. I was determined that I had to go out and do my own life with my husband and for these children particularly.
JH: But you were alright, you were safe.
IB: yes, of course and of course I have seen a number of the men or the women sent safe
JH: But what would be the advantage to the Nazis of keeping your children and destroying them? Supposing they destroyed them, what …
IB: Well, they would have prevented them from going to Gymnasium, getting a full education.
[More discussion of Nazi policy on children and parentage. A very touching story of a writer who married a Jewish widow and finally shot himself in 1944.]
JH: It seems strange that there was working in Berlin Piscator [left Germany in 1944], Brecht [left in 1933], Weill [left in 1933], Laban, how these spirits of that time, or they were willing to be housed there.
IB: Well, of course, I think Brecht and Weill all disappeared between ’33 and ’35. Laban lasted much longer than anybody else?
JH: Why? More willing to compromise?
IB: Well you see he was not like an experimental person like Piscator in his role as Ballet Master of the [Staatsoper in Berlin] because he had many sort of conventional tasks, to illustrate opera and he was not asked to do choreographic works of his own where he would have expressed ideas. So the whole Brecht-Weill was clearly communistic.
JH: But Felicia [Sachs] says that in fact Laban was on high-up committees, meeting with Hitler once a month.
IB: Yes, it’s possible. I didn’t quite know about this.
JH: But he somehow was able to reconcile that, I think, because he, again
IB: He was in an ivory tower. He had
[JH talks over IB so impossible to hear]
JH: … committee. That was the way of doing it and he had the [inaudible]. He never thought about the consequences. He just got on with it and that was the way he did… and I think this is true about Wigman. She wanted to practise her art. That was the way she practises her art, that’s the way she did it. And she didn’t stop until perhaps later when you say she went into a kind of exile. She then realised the consequences. But Martha Graham wrote to Laban, in reply to the invitation signed by Laban, saying ‘I cannot take part in the ’36 Olympic Games because I don’t agree with the ideology of the people running it.’ Now Laban signed his name to the invitation to Martha Graham.
IB: That’s of course … there are many things in Laban’s character that are … that cannot be explained by a … by principles.
JH: I can explain it by character. I can even sympathise with Wigman, not so much with Knust. I think Knust was a little bit more frightened, a little bit more willing to knuckle under.
IB: You seem here to be [inaudible few words] he was not [inaudible] to be so Nazi invaded. But he was very weak altogether.
JH: In his case it’s weakness. In Laban’s its unwillingness to be looking over the valley rail
IB: And certain kinds of superiority that allows to do that. You see it’s the same kind of thing that the scientists went through, that were asked to do nerve gas and all of that. They used their inventiveness to do this with no thought of the consequences to human kind. To humanity. That is the same kind of mentality, the sort of thing, you do your own thing, no matter what. It’s not only no matter what, you do not even raise that question, that’s just not there. And you know the story of Fuchs, you know, that traitor, you British had him. He was a German originally and who gave his informations to the Russians. He suffered also from a strange blank spot in his mentality. That he thought he had the right to dispose of knowledge and give it to anybody. It’s the other side of the coin. Ignoring it because you want to do your thing and so you don’t … in which room it doesn’t matter, in which environment, it doesn’t matter. Or you think the whole world is open to, … also the old liberal idea, knowledge is accessible to everybody and the Russians are our allies and I can decide, from this new things I want to share my colleagues in Russia. This is also a twist of the truth. It was a great confusion.
JH: Why did it never happen in America? With Watergate we seem to be, while Nixon is in power, we seem to be able to under the same kind of thing of you ignoring, you’re not willing to move the man out and went on and on in the same kind of blissful ignorance. It did, oddly enough, but it was a very worrying period.
IB: Yea, but then came the difference. They went through this whole thing and the congress decided on really going through with it, which was of course, [inaudible] through that unfortunate pardoning of fraud which I still don’t understand. But it awakens a new kind of ethic. America, from the beginning I was here, I had a feeling that something like Hitler cannot happen. I felt when Goldwater was … many people tried to tell me that’s like Hitler, you know. From an American conservative point of views, and turning the clock back and all of that, because in this non-homogeneous society there will be always a few people that disagree and that seems always to carry a certain amount of really…
JH: But Germany was a non-homogeneous society. It has a mixture, not quite so much as America
IB: No, but if you had seen how the West Germans and the Southern Germans are really different from the Northern Germans like anything. Not only that their dialects are
JH: That’s why I think it was the period of artistic excitement and it was.
IB: Yes, I agree, but well of course, also it’s politically such a conglomerate, you see, but you never could appreciate in Great Britain where you have a variety also, but not this kind of different histories of small kingdoms and all of that. You still have the total of the British Isles, more homogeneous than … you have the Welsh element and all of this kind of thing, but it’s still more homogeneous by the character of the island itself.
JH: It is very German.
IB: Germanic, yes. I think, of course, only that the Nordic or the Celtic element saved Britain from
JH: [laugh drowns out her last words]. I always think of myself as a Nordic rather than the Celtic, the Celtic are really … the Saxons… I always think of myself as a… looking at where my people come from, it’s a settlement from Scandinavia.
IB: When you look in the Rhineland in the villages that were not … some villages have still yet Roman influence, particularly Mosel, as I’ve mentioned before. But in World War I and in World War II the British made very easily friends, and you could see in the physical appearance of the British occupation soldiers and officers, they did not differ very much from that Lower Rheinish population. It was very easy to become friendly with them, because in the type and also when I come to England I recognise certain very related types of this Lower Rhine-West Germany part, which is very different from the Bavarian or the Schwabian or Baden, Southern Germany which is a different kind of streak of Germanic thing, Alsace-Lorraine, all of that. But that makes really some central Europe. Central Europe is all along the Rhine and then across through Bavaria, Schwabia into Austria and then Hungary, Romania and all of this kind of streak that goes through the Black Sea, you know. And has, on the Rhone also, influences from the East, on the same route. And it’s not so barbaric, while Saxony, Thuringia, the independent… the Hamburg, Bremen are more Viking spirit, they are, again, islands, you know. They are really more like the Vikings. But in between and surrounding Berlin it is a sad kind of mentality: partly Slavic mixed, not a very fortunate mixture. For example the Rhinelander, my mother in Berlin and she used to be invited by aristocratic friends East of Berlin in West Prussia or Silesia or East Prussia, she could not, she felt immediately different because in these big estates there were still these small farmers, they were sort of hired farmers that would come and greet and kiss the seam of your skirt, not only your hand, but the seam of your skirt and they greeted the owner of the main house. My mother was just horrified to see that as a … she was not used to such subservience. Berlin was really … and for the Rhinelanders, behind them was already a dark thing like Russia also. The German provinces were felt as something already very barbaric. So it was really very non-homogeneous, Germany, the Reich Germany.
[00.39.20 – 43.32 Further broad discussion of German, American and British character types and culture.]
Laban’s Choreographies
JH: Did you ever have see Laban’s dances or ballets? Did you see anything of his?
IB: I saw the Ritter Ballet, I saw in Magdeburg, the first Dancer’s Congress, that’s where I was in the Sozialballet, and in the Symphony, what was it called? There were three things, there were three major works were performed. One was The Night, and then he wanted to give three examples: one of dance as a theatre art, that was The Night which was a kind of surrealist, partly bizarre, partly a dream-like thing, also very advanced. And when I see some of what my son does in his experimental theatre it minds me of this kind of spirit that Laban had. And then the Seventh Symphony [Beethoven?] was done like a huge movement choir, and the Ritter Ballet was sort of a romantic thing with black and white medieval costumes, and [inaudible] crosses on the black and white things, and was done like a romantic medieval play, sort of partly ritual or something like that.
JH: Can you remember any of the detail? About the knights?
IB: I think that Jooss later took up this in Big City, it was related to Big City really. Sort of, all kinds of figures of night clubs, of cabaret style things. But I remember otherwise not very much of the details.
JH: Were you impressed with them? Were they very new?
IB: Very new and of course, that one choreographer would present three such absolutely different works, I think there were also received with very mixed feelings by the press because they simply didn’t want to accept the fact that somebody could use three styles, you know, in presenting a work. I remember a lot about this Seventh Symphony which was really about forty dancers. So they all had just sort of masks over their faces and sort of only tights and ... no, not tights, leotards, kind of… their human mutuality was completely extinguished, the way it was all this sweep of big groups against each other. They really indulged in this kind of grouping and where people were prostrate and people had costumes on and people at the high and narrow when they use these three types of dancers in a very undifferentiated way, in comparison to Beethoven’s music, you know. What he mainly did really, was the flow of the symphony, the sweep of the symphony, but not the refinement of music, he completely… it was really mass movement on different levels.
JH: With the music as a background rather than an accompaniment?
IB: Yes, yes. It was not really an accompaniment.
Movement Choirs and Mass Movement
JH: This is something which Merce Cunningham now believes he is doing for the first time. [laughs] How far was that mass movement related to the Nazi German feeling for mass movement?
IB: Well, you see because the movement choirs had spread mainly under the socialist or communist thing, so it was hostile from the very beginning of it.
JH: They served a Hitler youth kind of feeling which Knust enjoyed and seemed to be part of. It was a mass …
IB: Yes, but Knust was of course very apolitical though he had very strong feelings about social conditions and things like that. But
JH: More of a coward than Laban, then? Weak, weak. Laban would have dared and been rather stupidly naughty in front of Goebbels, as he was
IB: Yes, yes. At the moment he was put in he behaved like an enfant terrible.
JH: As he was, yes. But you don’t see the movement choirs having any, and in fact, that Laban wouldn’t have liked it assisting Hitler.
IB: Well you see, 1936 that thing [the movement choir celebrating the opening of the Dietrich Eckhardt Stadium] was cancelled.
JH: Yes, but up to 1936 it could have assisted Hitler. Then it was getting out of hand and Hitler stopped it, or Goebbels stopped it.
IB: yes well, it was probably became more known that the roots of that were in the socialist and communist movement.
JH: Not the National Socialist?
IB: No, not the National Socialist. I don’t know of any National Socialist choir
JH: But in the early stages the separation wasn’t so wide and that’s why they were tolerated, there was a Nationalist [inaudible], a Socialist group rather, then it became a National Socialist and against the communists and that’s when the two separated.
IB: Well, you see 1933, they all thought it cannot last very long. And the initiative of Hitler took several months in … you see the 31st January ’33 he came to power and he didn’t turn right away because the arts were not his priority. But it probably took some time till he understood how fast spread his words amongst these politically-oriented circles. Though I must see in 1934, 1935 people emigrating to Russia or emigrating to America… that had done. I do not know when the exact year Martin Gleisner was proletarian leader in Berlin and he was pretty active in the socialist movement, not communist. And when he flew to Holland first and then to America. You see they didn’t … there was such a massive shift of power, many things sort of trot along still, till they are recognised for what they seem to be or what they are really, you know. He didn’t … you see also he first probably underestimated the power of this. But Knust makes the point that the movement choirs and the notation were together forbidden around … between ’36 and ’38. Really forbidden.
JH: But Knust went on practising it through the war.
IB: Because he had the protection selling a small official position that was not vocation, was some sort of stage assistant to Makar, you know that Yugoslav ballet at the Munich Opera. He was honorary protection as passive as he is, he was glad to mix in the [inaudible] liberal ethic, and brood over his handbook.
JH: You know, I think as I was saying really, a lot of artists, and I’m not going to blame them for it, took the easiest way out. They preferred not to be idealistic but to be preservationists. They had a will to live and that was the way to preserve their existence.
IB: There was a whole group of painters on the German side of the lake of Constance that had of course over the years in the night in the fog they could disappear across to the Swiss border, you know. Which some of them did. But some of them practised just in all quiet, all through the war years in these little villages, as part of the village population, they did their art. Non militant at all.
JH: Amazing
IB: yes, it is amazing.
[break in tape]
IB: … it must have been England, someone corresponding
JH: [Talking over her response] Laban very much had that feeling that the artist was privileged not to be political.
IB: Yes, yes. Now of course, when you read The World of the Dancer, he complains in The World of the Dancer, that the separation of - what he calls it? – of art, church, and community and of government. It is so terribly separate. And then he makes almost a point that actually, that would make you think that he thought the artist had to be part of the community, that he had to decide what government should be like, or anything like, which more like here in America. Of course, he was an ivory tower artist.
JH: Interesting that you should say that about The World of the Dancer, Jooss [it was Gleisner, not Jooss] said that A Life for the Dance was a very good Nazi book.
IB: I don’t recall that too well, I’ll have to re-read it.
JH: What was he referring to?
IB: But The World of the Dancer is 1920
JH: Yes, much earlier. But A Life for the Dance is getting to the Nazi period.
IB: Yes it was 1929 or something [1935].
VB: He said, in the series of [inaudible] that things were turning round so that they would suit the people who were reading, that they were not really the ones that Laban practised when he was writing his autobiographical book, it was no longer an autobiography. It was presented for …
IB: He never could do anything… You see that’s what it is.
JH: Laban’s is not only an ivory tower it is also a fantasy tower which is not the same thing.
IB: You are so right! [Laughs] When I talk to you this time, I have the feeling during this year you have mulled over the core of Laban much more. And it must have been interesting to look at the English group now. And of course it’s why his declining years …
JH: In the year I have met Warren you see. Now the only person I haven’t talked to
[break in tape]
VB: … Janet, she is small and slim with
IB: With strongly cut features?
VB: Yes Janet Goodrich [Joan Goodrich]
IB: I had a very interesting talk, she was very eager, for instance, to affiliate here with us, because she said the air was more mobile. And she also felt it was maybe more opportunity to get into research and things like that.
IB: Her book on the
[break in tape]
IB: … a graduation turned and we submitted all the outlines of our courses. But we have not heard. And she said, ‘Oh it was so complicated with the system at Goldsmiths and so on. So, that with Janet Goodrich [sic] and, yes it’s ‘Janet’ now as I repeat it, now I remember. And Janet was very eager to know what we consider master or
[break in tape]
IB: … memory, but I tell you I remember.
JH: What gives you the impression he read? You see I get the impression, he could give you the impression that he had read, he was an absorber, not a reader. That’s my theory and one you’ve tested out.
IB: It is possible, I wouldn’t put it beyond
JH: And he had this capacity to be able to take in an idea and represent it as if he’d perhaps spent a bit of time on it. I don’t know.
IB: You know some people are stimulated by just reading a bit of a thing and merge it with their own way of thinking, you know. And that I think is very much the case with him. He
JH: I can’t imagine Laban sitting down and reading a book. He would preferred to be looking at people and observing people or being with them.
IB: Yes, yes. But a little bit, we all suffer from that. We all … I have read quite a lot, you know, various things, but to me, every opportunity to work with somebody, whether physical therapist or really teaching movement or investigating this idea, is always more important. That has prevented me for a long time to write altogether.
JH: But that’s why Laban didn’t write.
IB: Yes, yes. But of course he pointed to a whole little [inaudible] of papers
1. Martha Hill (December 1, 1900 – November 19, 1995) was one of the most influential American dance instructors in history. She was the first Director of Dance at the Juilliard School, and held that position for almost 35 years.
2. A branch of knowledge concerned with character and character formation [OED]
3. Richard Wilhelm (1873 – 1930) was a German sinologist, theologian, and missionary. He lived in China for 25 years, became fluent in spoken and written Chinese, and grew to love and admire the Chinese people. He is best remembered for his translations of philosophical works from Chinese into German that in turn have been translated into other major languages of the world, including English. His translation of the I Ching is still regarded as one of the finest, as is his translation of The Secret of the Golden Flower; both were provided with introductions by the Swiss psychiatrist Carl Jung, who was a personal friend.
4. Founding Summerhill School, advocacy of personal freedom for children, progressive education. Alexander Sutherland Neill (17 October 1883 – 23 September 1973) was a Scottish educator and author known for his school, Summerhill, and its philosophy of freedom from adult coercion and its community self-governance.
5. Klaus Emil Julius Fuchs (29 December 1911 – 28 January 1988) was a German theoretical physicist and atomic spy who supplied information from the American, British, and Canadian Manhattan Project to the Soviet Union during and shortly after World War II.