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.