Martha Graham When She Danced a Cold-War Peace Plan
A Memory in Poetry
"I am an auditory person. I'm lousy at visualizing. When I hear music my impulse is to move. When I'm in the throes of writing poetry, my hand hears the words." — Jean Colonomos, former Martha Graham dancer and poet, now living in Chicago, remembering the legendary dancer in free verse. Below, the last poem in her book, Living the Dream.
Martha Graham, the Stars of Moscow's Bolshoi
Ballet and the Cold War
that once-in-a-lifetime fall day in 1963 when the Cold War warmed
East 63rd Street at the Martha Graham School of Contemporary
Dance.
that unforgettable day when Ekaterina Maximova and Vladimir
Vasilyev, the wife and husband stars of Russia's Bolshoi Ballet
performing at the Metropolitan Opera House, were given permission
by the Russian government to take a modern dance class from
Martha Graham.
that bone chilling day when four squat-bodied officials — one female
translator and three scowling KGBers — sat on Isamu Noguchi
kidney-shaped, low-wood benches guarding their country's
treasures. Niet defections here, the reminder of Nureyev's 1961
escape from the Kirov Ballet to England still fresh.
that day, when two prima ballet dancers with the skill and beauty of
Olympian gods shared a foreign movement language and spent half
an hour warming up on the floor instead of at the barre.
that perpetually surprising day when Martha Graham's signature
movement, the contraction and release, became a diplomatic peace
offering.
that day, after a class composed of advanced students and company
members, Martha invited us into the garden to welcome the
Russians. We gave them our best smiles and through the translator,
thanked Maximova and Vasilyev for coming.
that day when the star took Martha by the elbow and brought her to
her bulging dance bag. Maximova reached in a pocket, pulled out a
twenty-five-year-old wrinkled photo of Graham from Letter to the
World (1940), her dance based on Emily Dickinson's love of life.
that moment when she showed Martha the photo, her wet eyes
seeming to say, you inspire me, you give me courage, then placed it
over her heart and squeezed Martha's hand as if she'd been waiting
for this all her Iron Curtain life.
that once-in-a-lifetime day when we were so moved that neither the
KGB, nor the language barrier, nor the Cold War stopped the flow
of art from spreading throughout the world.
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