Friday, July 30, 2010

JUNE ’74 to MAY ‘75

Unlike our winter drive, the trip to New York and Ohio over the summer months was a breeze—the only snow we encountered was on Lolo Pass on the way from Idaho to Montana. It was so great to see everyone! Jerry and Carla were still living in Danville so we took a quick trip down to visit, stopping by Sue and Mike’s on the way back. Bear was doing well with Carla, the perfect mother. She seemed concerned about every aspect of his upbringing—checking labels on what he ate, choosing carefully what books she read to him, and making sure he had plenty of stimuli. I was impressed and vowed to do the same when I had kids.

The state of our apartment in Moscow had changed little since we first moved in. We had purchased a mattress to sleep on and we still had the couch and cardboard table in the living room. The kitchen was furnished with a table, chairs and some shelves by the window. In June of ’74, our raises came through with our new pay at $300/month—nearly twice what it had been the previous season. We splurged and bought some furniture for the living room—a comfortable black vinyl chair, a glass and chrome coffee table and a chrome floor lamp. Michael carried the chair home from the furniture store on top of his head. And if that wasn’t enough, we bought a Honda 360 motorcycle! If I remember correctly, it was a little over $600.

The new season was shaping up nicely. The newspaper articles referred to Ballet Folk as the first professional touring troop in the Northwest. The grant money, thanks to Carl, was pouring in--$11,000 from the Association of the Humanities for the Company to perform a ballet depicting the effect of Idaho’s growth. The ballet would be shown in five different locations followed by a 3-member panel discussion. Jaye received a $1,500 choreography fellowship from the National Endowment of the Arts to create three new ballets—Wedding Fest, with music by Grieg; This Property is Condemned, based on a Tennessee Williams play; and Hosannah, with music from Godspell. And to top it off, Ballet Folk was awarded a hugely-appreciated $50,000 for two years from the Idaho Bicentennial Commission to prepare a 1976 tour of an Americana program.

But the most exciting news for us was the new dancers! For its third season, Ballet Folk hired three new dancers, two apprentices and a Ballet Mistress. Since nearly 100% of our time was spent with the people we worked with, we were anxious to find out if we liked any of them. Lynne Shupe, formerly of Ballet West, was hired as Ballet Mistress and her husband, Dale Miller, from Beaumont, Texas, as one of the dancers. The other two newly-hired dancers were another couple, Pam Critelli and Kevin Montgomery of Portland, Oregon, although they didn’t remain a couple for long. Karen Esposito was one of the apprentices, a newlywed. She didn’t arrive until mid-October. The other apprentice was Mary Guidicci, whose boyfriend worked for the Idaho State Commission on the Arts. She wasn’t particularly talented and she didn’t last long. She was gone before Nutcracker. We were sad that Marilyn had quit the company. I guess touring and being away from her boyfriend, Dave, were too difficult for her. Chuck Bonney hung up his dancing shoes but he worked for the Company later in a different capacity. We couldn’t wait to get started—what would the new ballets be like, what parts would we be dancing and who would we be dancing them with?

Teaching at the 30th annual two-week Performing Arts Camp at the University of Idaho, formerly known as the Summer Music Camp, was our first assignment of the season. Now that we were officially in residence at of U of I and being given free rent and rehearsal space, we were required to earn our keep. High school students from all over the Northwest participated in the camp and I, of course, taught modern dance—the Lester Horton technique I had learned in college. I was glad I had taken copious notes while at UC.

Before we got too heavily into rehearsals, JoAnn Muneta, who was the official Treasurer of Ballet Folk Corporation—and our “go to with complaints” person about hotels, per diem and performance spaces—organized an overnight raft trip on the Snake River. It wasn’t a Ballet Folk-sponsored event but anyone who wanted to go was invited. Jon Bottoms, Mike and I jumped at the chance.

There were about 15 of us in all, JoAnn’s grade-school kids included. Some friends of JoAnn’s had done the trip before and so knew the route. We didn’t have to worry about any of the planning—although we donated a little money for rafts, food and transportation. We started on a Saturday morning and enjoyed most of the day paddling and floating down the river encountering very few rapids. We stopped for the night while it was still light, built a fire and cooked dinner. The food was nothing elaborate—hot dogs and beans—very simple, easy to fix and easy to clean up. Apparently it wasn’t as easy on the stomach as mine began to churn shortly after eating.

I took numerous and lengthy trips with Mike in tow, searching for various trees to suit my purpose. I don’t think I have ever had the trots that bad before or since, except maybe when I was in Mexico ten years later. After what seemed like an eternity, I was finally able to enjoy the camaraderie and singing around the campfire. We slept in our sleeping bags under the stars—and there were literally millions of them.

The next morning after breakfast, we again launched our rafts on the river. We had heard about some nasty rapids near the end of the trip, and they appeared after a few hours of increasingly faster water. A minute before we were swept into the swirling water, we scrambled up one side of the bank to get a better look. We stared and stared trying to imagine what the rushing water would do to us and our rafts. It looked very dangerous. I know I was wondering if we could be killed. Some of the folks decided to portage around the rapids but some of the more adventurous among us, including Mike and I, decided to go for it.

It was definitely a rush. We were totally inexperienced and didn’t even have a guide. We paddled into the rapids, held our breath and ended up in the water flailing frantically. Luckily we were rescued fairly quickly with just a few bruises between us. It was an unforgettable experience. Once we arrived back home, a hot bath was exactly what the doctor ordered.

Even before we started rehearsals, we discovered where Lynne and Dale lived and paid them a visit. They graciously invited us to dinner which included salad with avocados which I ate for the first time. It seems unbelievable that it took me twenty-some years to eat my first avocado—as now I couldn’t live without them. My kids are as addicted to them as most kids are to candy. Lynne and Dale seemed nice enough although somewhat of an odd couple. First of all, there was a big age difference between them—Lynne was at least ten years older than Dale; and secondly, from all outward appearances, Dale was flamboyantly gay although Lynne seemed to think he was just being cute.

Having a Ballet Mistress was definitely going to be different. Lynne was scheduled to do some dancing, some choreographing and some rehearsing. She would be teaching Company class every day including warm-ups before performances. She would travel with us on all tours and Jaye and Carl would remain in Moscow. It was a tall order—keeping us in line and showing us who was boss. Having a husband as one of the dancers seemed to complicate matters even further. She didn’t have a chance.

Kevin Montgomery was a super-nice guy with a head of curly red hair. He and his girlfriend, Pam Critelli, who was all of five-foot tall, came from Portland, Oregon. They were both very adequate dancers and very professional—they bumped the Company up a notch. Mike and I got along famously with Kevin—he became one of our best friends. Pam had a tendency to negativity and to complain too much. She and Kevin had relationship problems right away and they broke up fairly quickly although they remained friends. They weren’t the only ones having relationship problems—Mike and I started having our share.

Jaye cast Wedding Fest first. Kevin was paired with Princess Paula and Mike and I were partners for the first time. Lynne Short was, as usual, partnered with Mike Hyslop and Pam was cast as the wench who tries to disrupt the wedding with her shenanigans. From day-one, Mike and I started arguing. Looking at it from my viewpoint, I was an experienced dancer and he didn’t know a plie from a tendu before he met me. He criticized me constantly for what I was doing wrong—it was a difficult pill to swallow. We disrupted rehearsals so consistently that Jaye and Lynne had to give us an ultimatum. Either make it work or one of us was out of the ballet. Luckily we seemed to mellow after that and things got better.

Lynne choreographed a ballet with the title LXVIII inspired by a verse from the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, “helpless pieces of the game. . . upon this checquerboard of night and days.” It was a Pointe ballet with six dancers dressed and moving like chess pieces. We wore black leotards and tights with crowns on our heads over either red or white hoods. I had a pas de trios with Kevin and Dale and so was featured in the ballet. None of us especially liked it and it wasn’t that much fun to dance. The audience and the critics didn’t like it much either. It was rather somber and they were used to ruckus or at least fun.

Mid-way through learning Weddingfest and LXVIII, the Company packed up and moved to the College of Southern Idaho in Twin Falls for a two-week residency. We lived in the dorms, ate cafeteria food, taught class every day and had rehearsals on the auditorium stage. Tragically for me, before we left on the tour, I had attempted to learn how to drive the new motorcycle and had dropped it on my big toe. The toenail turned black and blue and was tender to the touch. Dancing on Pointe was totally out-of-the-question. That worked fine for the first week as Jaye was choreographing and didn’t need us in Pointe shoes. However, during the second week, we were required to wear our Pointe shoes and I performed miserably. Actually Jaye wasn’t pleased with any of us and we got a serious lecture. It was one of the few times Carl took his turn yelling at us.

Once we were home, Jaye had two more ballets to choreograph before our McCall dress rehearsal and our University of Idaho opening in September. Jaye began with This Property is Condemned, music by Stravinsky and Copland, as played by Benny Goodman. It was loosely based on a Tennessee Williams play of the same name but was more a period piece than a story ballet. I was cast as Bertha, a lady of the night, and I danced with Mike Hyslop. Lynne Short was cast as Willie and Mike was her partner, Tom—their characters were a little older than kids. The pas de deux they danced constituted 3/4th of the ballet. This ballet, like Rainmaker remained in the repertoire for years. The part of Willie eventually became mine and Mike and I danced it across the country. We have numerous pictures—me in a red and white “dress up” dress with red socks and Mike in knickers, a striped t-shirt and a leather cap. Apparently I had borrowed the clothes from my older sister. During much of the ballet, I danced with a doll. If we have a claim to fame, this would be it.

The last ballet to be choreographed for the second season was Hosannah with music from Godspell. This was to be my all-time favorite ballet. It had a very positive message about people working together and loving each other or as the program put it, “a celebration of man—his aspirations and his search for meaning.” One of our first reviews proclaimed it, “a fine vehicle for the youthful zest and charm of the Company.” We wore cheerleader uniforms of different colors with our names sewn on our chests. When we performed this ballet for schools, which we did often, the kids would call out our names. I still have an old and tattered piece of paper that has a picture of me in my cheerleader uniform drawn on it. Underneath the picture a little child has written, “This was my favorite part.” That meant the world to me at the time and it still does. Dancing the ballet was a moving experience—I was spreading my joy of life and dancing to others.

Our McCall performance and the Moscow opening were a huge success. Many newspaper articles were written commending us for coming so far in such a short time. We had our usual fall tour and then settled back in November to learn and rehearse the full-length Nutcracker that we would perform in December with dancers from Moscow and Boise.

During the fall, the apprentice, Karen Esposito, arrived in Moscow from Boise. When Jaye and Carl were in Boise earlier in the year auditioning for the Nutcracker, they had seen her dance and had hired her. She was newly married and her husband, Lou, started working at a pizza place in Moscow the day after they arrived. Mike and I liked them both and we were elated to finally have another couple to hang with. Alas, it didn’t work out. Karen and Lou broke up within the year and Karen moved back to Boise after the season was over. I remember seeing her once after she quit the Company when she came to one of our performances.

It is a good thing Ballet Folk hired Karen. She was invaluable when Lynne Short and Michael Hyslop quit the Company right before Nutcracker. They were not happy with Lynne Shupe’s teaching or choreography and they felt the constant touring was hindering their ability to improve as dancers. They couldn’t stand another minute of it. The rest of us were pretty upset too but not to the point of quitting mid-contract. I don’t know what became of Michael Hyslop but Lynne Short went on to have an illustrious career dancing with Hartford Ballet, First Chamber Dance Company and Pacific Northwest Ballet ending up as the Principal of Ballet Austin Academy.

Although I never did learn how to drive it, Mike and I enjoyed countless hours of freedom on the new motorcycle. On days-off we would ride up Moscow Mountain and spend hours at the top picnicking and surveying the beautiful surroundings or we would ride to Cour d’Alene and walk around town. Michael and Lynne also had a motorcycle and sometimes we would go together into the hills, hang out and picnic together. During the summer months we would ride to a small lake about 30 minutes away, swim and spend the day. In addition, one of the locals told us about a secluded, crystal-clear river we rode to a few times to go skinny-dipping—an afternoon there melted the stress away. One time we encountered an Elk on the trail to the river and we stood frozen for a few seconds before he ran off.

The full-length Nutcracker was a huge undertaking. We had two performances in Moscow on December 7th and 8th, one in Pullman on December 14th, and two in Boise on December 20th and 21st. The Company dancers had multiple parts. Mike and I were Clara’s parents; I was the Snow Queen and danced with Kevin; Pam and Michael danced the Spanish; I danced the Arabian with Karen, Kevin and Dale; and Mike danced the Prince with Paula. Almost forgot, Mike was also the Mouse King—he scared the pants off the little kids. There was a cast of 60 for each performance. Lynne Shupe had taken a trip in September to teach about 30 of the ballet students in Boise their parts. The Company dancers and about 20 Moscow ballet students filled out the rest of the Boise cast.

Nutcracker is always a crowd pleaser. The house was sold-out for both shows in Moscow, and 300 people were turned away from a house of 2,500 in Pullman. The reviews were rave in all three cities. I got my first review in the Spokane Daily Chronicle, December 17th. Helen Cross wrote, Deanne Hurd was dazzling in both performance and appearance as the Snow Queen. In the Boise Idaho Statesman on December 21st, Julie Monroe wrote, “Deanne Hurd was the grateful Snow Queen, Madame Silberhaus and an Exotic Arabian.” (I think she meant graceful.)

Morale was at an all-time low during and after Nutcracker. The dancers were disgruntled with the Ballet Mistress and her lazy husband. Tempers flared and practically no one was getting along with anyone. Everyone was disgusted with Lynne’s lack of leadership, her inability to put-her-foot down, and her inability to get her husband to do anything to cooperate with the rest of us. Dale had “favored dancer” status and he didn’t deserve it. To Lynne’s credit, I can see now she was in an impossible situation. She wanted us to like her but we didn’t because we didn’t respect her. If she had treated us like employees and not like friends, she might have been more successful.

But life dealt another surprise and, to everyone’s amazement, Lynne Shupe turned up pregnant! We were all elated and relieved as we knew she wouldn’t be able to carry on in her present position for long. It was decided she would continue to dance in Hosannah and the new ballet, Overture, which Jaye had started choreographing to the William Tell Overture. Lynne would also choreograph the Humanities Ballet that ended up being so boring we could dance it with our eyes closed. But as of the summer, she and Dale would be leaving.

A month or so after Lynne got pregnant, Dale confided to Mike and me that he thought he might be gay—no news flash to us! We saw him a few years later when we were touring in Beaumont, Texas. He and Lynne had split and he was living with another man. He seemed happier and more at-ease with himself.

Jaye reassumed the responsibilities of teaching class while a replacement was sought for Ballet Master/Mistress. Becky Reddick, a beautiful dancer who had danced in Nutcracker and who was interested in a contract, was hired to replace Paula who had not been showing up for class or rehearsals. I think dancing had ceased to be “fun” for her and she didn’t want to work that hard. No one missed her and her prima-donna attitude except maybe Mike.

After a few months of being in limbo, the Company found a replacement for Lynne—Mieczyslaw Morawski, a Lithuanian who was trained in both the Bolshoi and Leningrad schools in Russia. He had the credentials; but we wondered, “Why would he want to come to Moscow, Idaho?” He and his girlfriend, Shirley Oakes, arrived in the spring and the Company was again in turmoil. To put it bluntly, he was a whack-job. From the beginning, it was clear to the dancers that Miesha wasn’t going to work out. He was far too foreign to be comfortable in such a hick-town. He wondered why everyone stared at him when he performed ballet stretches at the pool wearing his European Speedo.

I actually think the situation at the Company went from bad to worse. Shirley was older than any of us and looked it. She was tall and gangly and didn’t fit in. Miesha had created a pas de deux called Andante for her and Kevin, whom she towered over. It was supposed to be romantic but ended up being embarrassingly comical. Shirley also danced the Dying Swan, although she was way too big to be graceful or a swan—more like a wounded duck. To top matters off, Miesha had a temper that would explode on a moment’s notice.

This situation continued through the spring tour with performances and workshops in Twin Falls, Rexburg and Boise. The straw that broke the camel’s back was Shirley’s affair with George Bohn. I never would have predicted that in a million years. They ran away together at the end of the season and, thankfully, Miesha left too. Mike, Becky and I were the only ones to sign contracts for the following season. I guess we were gluttons for punishment or maybe we just didn’t have any place else to go.

Friday, July 2, 2010

AUGUST ’73 TO MAY ‘74

We quickly settled into our new life and our new routine. As our workday didn’t begin until ballet class at 1:00 p.m., we normally stayed up late visiting with other dancers, smoking cigarettes and drinking beer. Following class with Jaye, there was a 3-hour rehearsal period which at times stretched to 4 or 5. As the Ballet Folk repertoire for the 73-74 season consisted of eight ballets, there was a lot to learn. As understudy to all the women, I had the almost impossible task of keeping up with it all. It was emotionally draining as I was doing all of the work but getting none of the pay or the reward of performing. It was tough keeping my spirits up.

In order to help with expenses, I started working as a cocktail waitress at the Moose Lodge on Main Street. I worked six hours each Friday and Saturday night. The patrons were mostly rednecks except for Norm, who became a good friend. We met when he hit on me, jokingly offering me money to sleep with him—but once he met Mike, he was just friendly. He had a bumper sticker on his pick-up that said, “Bald Men Make Better Lovers”. He also had a speedboat that we spent some Sundays on mostly talking and drinking beer (that was a big pastime of ours). The Moose job was pretty easy—delivering beer and mixed drinks to people sitting at tables around a dance floor. I remember being happy if I got a quarter tip. We also qualified for Food Stamps so that helped with expenses.

There was a little bar around the corner where we spent much of our down time. Beers were $.35 but a high score at pinball won you a free one. Both Mike and I became proficient enough that we rarely had to buy beer. We even held bar records on the machines. When I drank beer at that bar, I always ordered a “red one” which was half beer and half tomato juice. I loved my beer that way—although I have never had a “red one” anyplace before or since. A nice but unattractive lady bartender worked there who claimed to have been propositioned by Elvis in Las Vegas. It was at the end of his life when he was fat and drugged out on pills. As the story goes, she turned him down.

The season was due to open September 21st and 22nd at the University of Idaho Auditorium. According to a newspaper article, tickets were $2 for adults and $1 for students. The program listed the ballets: Shone Nacht, Celebration, Excerpts from the Nutcracker, Ceremony on the Open Plains and Hoe Down. A performance was scheduled in the small town of McCall on September 7th, allowing the Company an out-of-town performance, akin to a dress rehearsal, to help with opening-night jitters.

Shone Nacht was a ballet of beautiful waltzes with music by Franz Lehar and Richard Strauss. The women’s costumes consisted of sheer, flowing gowns of pastel colors, long white gloves, and feathered headdresses while the men wore white tights and long-sleeved velvet coats. Its choreography was light and lyrical evoking a bygone era in old Vienna. Amidst partnered duets and pas de quatres was a solo danced to the music of the Pizzicato Polka. The ballerina spent almost the entire solo on her toes—jumping, skipping and turning.

Celebration, a modern dance choreographed by guest choreographer, Judith Poulson, was set to music by Roberta Flack and Donny Hathaway. The costumes were matching tie-dyed tights and leotards for both men and women. As everyone danced barefoot, it gave the women a chance to give their toes a rest. This ballet wasn’t performed after the 73-74 season, so I don’t remember much about it.

Excerpts from the Nutcracker included many of the dances from Act II—Spanish Chocolate, Russian Cookies, Arabian Coffee, Chinese Tea and the Sugar Plum Fairy. Audiences loved these because they recognized the music and the pieces were short, funny or exciting. People hooted and hollered at the Russians, whistled at the sexy Arabian girl, laughed at the Chinese scurrying movements and were appropriately reverential when Paula Brantner, as the Sugar Plum Fairy, commanded their attention.

Ceremony on the Open Plains was the piece de resistance! It was a ballet based on the facts presented by a Miss Jean Hickcock McCormick who had lived in Billings, Montana. “Jean McCormick testified to the fact that Calamity Jane and Wild Bill Hickock were indeed united in holy matrimony in a ceremony somewhere on the open plains in September 1870.” Jean McCormick was their offspring and the ballet told their story. Ceremony on the Open Plains was a rip-roaring riot that combined tap, dance hall dances, fights and ballet in an audience favorite which left them hollering for more. With the ballet, Hoe Down, they got more. All nine dancers joined in this rousing foot-stomping, knee-slapping, boot-kicking finale.

As one can imagine, much rehearsal was needed to get these works performance-ready. When Michael was in Moscow earlier that June, he had learned Celebration and parts of Shone Nacht. Hoe Down had been performed the year before so some of the dancers already knew it. But the choreography for Ceremony on the Open Plains hadn’t even been completed. Its music by Americana composer, Aaron Copeland, was nearly 30-minutes long; and Jaye was about to give birth any day! The dancers were in a state of panic most of the month of August. Jaye and Carl were surprisingly confident. Jesse Petrick was born on August 24th and his mother was back in the studio choreographing and rehearsing the next day.

And then a miracle/calamity occurred that no one could have predicted. Patty Moehnert, who danced the part of “Calamity Jane” in Ceremony on the Open Plains discovered she was pregnant. For me it was nearly perfect timing. Patty performed Calamity in McCall and Moscow and then the part was mine. She quietly married her baby daddy (he cried the entire ceremony) and I decided I had a Fairy Godmother after all. Since Patty was already showing and since the Arabian girl wears a costume with a bare midriff, during the Moscow performance I made my debut with the Ballet Folk of Moscow dancing the Arabian Coffee.

I was more than excited to be elevated to “one of the paid dancers” of the company, even if it was only $42.50/week. I put my heart-and-soul into learning my parts and dancing my best. The Arabian Coffee makes her entrance carried by two male dancers. I was poised over their heads in the splits—my calves supported by one of each of their hands while I held the others in mine. I was frightened beyond belief to be up that high but I faced my fears with only one minor mishap. For obvious reasons, it was extremely necessary the dancers walk in-sync. At one point during rehearsal, my partners got off track and my right arm was jerked and twisted nearly out of its socket. I handled it stoically trying to ignore the excruciating pain I felt when given the job of closing the curtain after one of the numbers. I didn’t want to disappoint anyone who had given me the chance of a lifetime. The Moscow opening was a huge success as stated by Wendy Taylor in the Idahoan, “Acclaimed by a standing ovation, Ballet Folk can look forward to a successful season.”

As our first tour was scheduled to begin with a performance in Lewiston on October 5th, there was no time to lose. Long rehearsals and sore toes were the norm during the two weeks after the opening and prior to the start of the tour. I quit my job at the Moose Lodge with absolutely no regrets.

The lead in Ceremony was perfect for me because it required acting, tap dancing, tumbling and no classical ballet or Pointe shoes. Actually Ballet Folk was perfect for me as most of our audiences didn’t know much about ballet or good feet. They liked me because I had heart and not because I was technically proficient. Mike and I had ended up exactly where we should be.

We were excited to be starting off on our first road trip. We intended to save lots of money as we were given per diem of slightly over $10/each for meals. When your take-home pay for the entire week is $42.50, $10/day in addition to that seems like a fortune. Food was cheap back then and we weren’t big eaters. Alas, we rarely came back with any cash—buying vodka for post-show celebrations usually ate up any excess.

Ballet Folk owned an old school bus that was driven by Jon Bottoms—the stage manager, set and lighting designer, and jack-of-all-trades. It was decorated by Jon so people driving by would recognize us—a little free advertising—they usually honked and waved. The big problem, it really was an “old school bus” and often had malfunctions that required unscheduled pit stops. That was another of Jonny’s jobs—bus mechanic—and often he got us going again with a rubber band, band aid or hairclip.

While on the road, we carried all of our own equipment—lights, sound system, backdrop, floor, costumes, etc. If we were performing in a gymnasium, which was often the case especially in small towns, the dancers unloaded the equipment and set it up right on the gym floor—creating a stage with lights. We would set-up, take class, perform, strike and then eat dinner once the performance was over. Our audiences were enthusiastic although most often small—between 200 to 400 folks.

The road from Moscow to Lewiston resembled one from an adventure flick—hairpin turns all the way down the mountain. We were lucky we never went over the edge. A new, streamlined highway has since been built which gets you there in a quarter of the time. Lewiston was a fairly large city as cities go in Idaho and, because of its proximity to Moscow, many of its inhabitants were familiar with the Ballet Folk. We began our tour there with a good reception followed by a month-long series of one-night stands in little towns with names like Lapwai, Grangeville, Elk City, Pocatello, American Falls, Weiser and Wallace. None of them stand out in my memory any more than the next although I remember my first performance of Ceremony and being asked for my autograph. It was kids who wanted it, but it was an ego-boost just the same.

Touring was more difficult for the other dancers than for Michael/me and Lynne/Michael Hyslop who at least had each other. It was especially hard on Becky who had to leave her husband behind. The girls were always lonely and Michael often hung out in Marilyn, Becky and Paula’s room where he was more than welcome. Jonny Bottoms and I became good friends. He was so different from Michael—very shy and quiet and he thought the world of me.

In the middle of the tour, we performed in Idaho Falls, another fairly large town with a college campus. College audiences were always the best and most appreciative. In larger towns like Idaho Falls and Boise, we would often give school performances lecture demonstrations or dance workshops. I was the modern dance teacher although I often taught ballet class as well. After a short break in Moscow at the beginning of November, we headed out for another tour with performances in Ontario, Kellogg and Deer Park.

Over the Thanksgiving holiday, Becky and her husband, Dave, invited us to accompany them to Seattle and stay at Becky’s family’s house. I’ll never forget the delicious eggs Becky made every time we spent the night— scrambled with oregano and jack cheese. While there, we made an overnight trip to Mt. Rainer National Park and camped in an open-air cabin. Although we didn’t have reservations, it turned out we didn’t need them as no one else showed up. It was more than a bit chilly in the morning but quickly warmed up. We had decided to hike to Gobblers Nob after discovering that mountain-climbing gear and experience were necessary to make the 14,411 foot high summit. At first the trail was easy but it was almost impossible by the end even for in-shape dancers. We sat at the top for some time waiting for the clouds to clear, not wanting to move our weary bodies. When the clouds finally parted briefly, we had a spectacular view of Mt. Rainier and Mt. St. Helens. It was definitely worth the wait.

We finished our year with a benefit performance in Boise. Boise is the capital of Idaho and also its biggest city. It boasts great restaurants and nice hotels and we usually tried to save up per diem money so we could treat ourselves once we got there. Our favorite place was a seafood restaurant that had the best teriyaki shrimp. Over the years, we would dream about that shrimp with mouths watering for days before we arrived in Boise.

Our first performance in Boise was a benefit for VIPs in the Idaho art world—members of the Idaho Commission of the Arts and wealthy donors. We were nervous because impressing the money people was key to our potential salary increase. I was especially tired before this performance as it was our last after a grueling two months of almost non-step rehearsals and performances. Christmas vacation was right around the corner but couldn’t come soon enough for me. Flirtingly, Carl, who knew I was weary, said, “Let me take you away from all this!” From that time on, that became the joke between us. Whenever tours were especially tiring with many back-to-back shows without a day off, I would remark to Carl how he had promised to “Take me away from all this!”

We were free from December 21st to January 2nd so we drove back to New York and Ohio to see our families. Although it was great to see everyone, a good deal of time was spent in the car. Over the holidays we convinced both sets of parents to come to Sun Valley at the end of May when Ballet Folk would be performing at the Sun Valley Center for the Arts and Humanities. The highlight of the trip was seeing Carla and Jerry’s baby, Barrett Christian Bradshaw, affectionately called Bear, who was born on August 8th. We still talk about trying to play bridge in Toledo with him screaming his little head off. He was a very demanding baby, although absolutely beautiful; and being the first grandchild, we adored him. Back in the car, driving cross county was tedious and harrowing because of the length of the trip and the accumulation of snow on the passes. We decided to do something different the following year.

Back in Idaho, Carl was conducting many negotiations—the most exciting of which was our imminent move to the campus of the University of Idaho. Jaye and Carl would be classified as affiliate faculty members and we would be given free, spacious rehearsal space. Carl signed an agreement between Ballet Folk and the U of I which stated, “Ballet Folk is recognized by the University as having gained rapid and enthusiastic acclaim throughout the State of Idaho and neighboring areas as a professional performance group of first-rate caliber and of potential enduring influence on the level of performing arts production in the State of Idaho.” To top it off, next season our salaries would be raised to $75/week! The move actually occurred on March 15th.

Other exciting contracts included Ballet Folk being named Moscow’s official representative group for Moscow Day, May 7th, at Expo ’74 World’s Fair in Spokane, Washington. In addition, although it was nearly two years in the future, Ballet Folk was nominated by the Idaho Alliance of Arts Education to perform at the Kennedy Performing Arts Center in Washington, D.C. during the U.S. Bicentennial celebrations. Once we were officially chosen, the Company received grant money from the Idaho Bicentennial Commission. Ballet Folk’s star was rising rapidly.

But there was no rest for the weary. Becky discovered in January that she was pregnant and therefore would be leaving the Company. Her husband, Dave, was scheduled for Officers Basic training in Indianapolis in March and she would be leaving with him. We were very sorry to see Becky go as she was one of the people Mike and I liked best. We did plan to stay in touch but it felt like I was losing my best friend.

I took over Becky’s part of the Pizzicato Polka in Shone Nacht; and luckily, hopping on Pointe was one of my strong points—pun intended. Girls with beautiful feet are never good at hopping because feet with high arches are usually weak. That was definitely not my problem. But Jaye was an exacting taskmaster and often had me in tears because of my inability to please her. I was in tears for other reasons as well. I recall one day at Jaye’s house balling my eyes out while pouring my heart out about the difficulties of being a young newlywed in the same professional dance company as her husband

We also began work on a new ballet, Beauty and the Beast, choreographed by Jaye to music by Ravel; and the Rainmaker, with music by Aaron Copeland, a ballet that had been danced the first season. Michael was cast as the Rainmaker, a role he danced off-and-on for the next five years. I was Lizzie’s mother with Chuck as my husband. Lynne was Lizzie opposite Michael. In Beauty, Michael, Paula and George were the head monkeys. Lynne and I, who danced the parts of Beauty’s sisters, doubled as additional monkeys with a quick costume change. Michael Hyslop was the beast and Marilyn was Beauty.

Our first tour and D-day for Rainmaker and Beauty was February 3rd so we had a month to perfect the two ballets. The ski-resort of Sun Valley, Idaho, was to be our first stop where we would spend three luxurious days in the home of a wealthy man whose wife had been killed in an avalanche the year before. Although he wasn’t there while we were there, he had graciously offered us his home. Mike and I won the draw for the master bedroom and were in pure heaven. The bathroom alone was the size of our bedroom back in Moscow and we even had a balcony overlooking the first floor living room where everyone congregated.

Carl accompanied us on most tours that first year so Jaye could stay home with Paris and Jesse. When Jaye wasn’t with us, I usually taught company class before performances as I had teaching experience and didn’t mind. Carl was more like one-of-us than Jaye because he was closer to our age and didn’t work with us on a day-to-day basis. He also didn’t have the discerning eye that Jaye had for mistakes and sloppy dancing so we tended to be more at-ease with Carl watching a performance than with Jaye. Carl treated all the dancers very respectfully as he was awed by our talent and so made us feel special. The performance in Sun Valley went very well and it was a good thing—we were scheduled to return in May. From Sun Valley we had a performance in Shoshone and then Twin Falls again, one of our favorite places.

Back in Moscow, we prepared for the move to the University of Idaho and for the big Spring performances in Moscow and its sister city, Pullman, Washington. These Spring shows were always a big deal as students from the school performed with the Company. This was their recital and their time to shine. Michael and I became good friends with one of the school kids’ mom’s, Donna Bray, so little Annie Bray was our favorite. Chuck Bonney and I were chosen to dance the pas de deux in the ballet, L’Ecole de Danse, which Jaye created as a showcase for the students.

L’Ecole de Danse recreated a ballet school, as depicted in a Degas painting, with an exacting taskmaster danced by George. The young ballerinas made fun of one little girl who dreamed of being a famous dancer—danced by me. Chuck, who was also my partner in the Rainmaker, bugged me constantly with his inconsistent and inconsiderate partnering. I finally put band aids on my nipples to keep him from looking down my tutu bodice. One move from the dance that I can’t forget had me running up to Chuck with my right leg extended to the side. He grabbed me with one hand under my outstretched leg and the other on my waist and threw me up over his head where I completed a half turn and ended up being caught in front of him in a fish pose. It was nerve wracking! The other two ensemble dances on the bill were Beauty and Rainmaker. In addition there were two pas de deux one from The Nutcracker and one from Giselle.

Michael received the first review of his career in the Moscow Idahoan after the spring U of I performance. Wendy Taylor wrote, “While all the dancing was splendid, the excerpt from the Nutcracker deserves special mention. Michael Hurd and his partner, Paula Brantner, danced beautifully together. He lifted and carried her as if she were thistledown, and at times it seemed as if one person, not two, were dancing, so well in unison were they.” Not bad for someone who had been dancing less than two years.

Ballet Folk’s performance at the World’s Fair in Spokane Washington went equally well. At that time, Spokane was the smallest city to host a World’s Fair. To this day most people have still never heard of Expo ’74. A total of 5.2 million people visited the Fair over the course of the six months it was open, and it was considered a success. We performed Shone Nacht at noon outdoors in the International Amphitheatre and were able to spend the remainder of the day enjoying the Fair. As fairgoers came from around the country, many of them were unfamiliar with Moscow, Idaho. They thought we were from Moscow, Russia, and they remarked how well we spoke English.

Our final performance of the season was the second in Sun Valley. At this performance, our parents joined us fresh from a trip through Missouri. They hadn’t seen us perform since the Pioneer Playhouse and I don’t think they knew what to expect. I know they were impressed as they couldn’t stop talking about how much they had enjoyed the show. It was a relief once the performance was over. We were all happy to be getting a break—even if it wasn’t as long as we had hoped.