dance

An Announcement and a Tap Step

“Reminder -- auditions for the musical comedy Anything Goes is after school today. Students should meet at the stage and bring tap shoes. Be prepared to tap,” announced the principal of James Madison High School over the loudspeaker during my first hour biology class.

As soon as I heard the word TAP, I asked my classmates near me what that was all about. The girl sitting in the desk behind me explained our school was putting on a show that involved a lot of tap dancing and described it as a 1930s The Love Boat. It was my first year in high school, so I was still making my way but was certain I had to be part of that show. I had been dancing since the age of seven and tap was my favorite. After performing Ronnie the Robot Who Can Rock & Roll on the stage of my first dance recital, I was hooked!  Dissecting frogs was the furthest thing from my mind and all I could think about was approaching my choir teacher, the musical director, to inquire about the audition.  First hour bell rang and I ran into the Girl’s Glee choir room. I needed to speak to Mr. B before we started singing the notes to the Sound of Silence.

“Lynn, we already had auditions the past couple days. Today is the callback.” I am sure he could see the look of devastation on my face as I pleaded and shared my  tap dancing experience, so he promised to try to work it out.  “Well, I know you can sing so you passed that part of the audition.  I’ll talk to the director. Just come to the theater right after school and I’ll introduce you.”

Seventh hour accounting class could not come quickly enough. The minute the school bell rang, I scurried through the halls, dropped off my books in my locker, flew down the flight of stairs and swam through the sea of students to get to the lobby.

Mr. B was already in the auditorium leaning over the middle row of seats whispering to the director and choreographer. They both turned around to size me up which made me nervous and a bit uncomfortable. Pam, the choreographer, led me to an area in the hallway to see if these feet could truly move. She asked if I knew the time step and when I replied which one, a smile from ear to ear graced her face. This moment was the turning point in my high school career. In my life!

The next morning the cast list for Anything Goes was posted near the office and the wannabe Broadway stars were flocking around the bulletin board searching for their names. Under the lead role was a list of six angels and there was my name.  I did not even realize that I was given this great part.  All the girls who were cast in the ensemble were praying to be one of Reno Sweeney’s Angels.  Chants of  “Who is this Lynn Bertoni?” echoed the hallway and I looked around and played dumb. Nobody knew who I was because I never set foot on that stage to audition, but once we learned our first number and I aced the shuffle ball change flap heal step, they understood.  Rehearsals were my escape from the hustle and bustle of school.  My theater friends became my second family and I have never encountered such a kind, caring and accepting group of peers in my life. I belonged! 

The following year I was cast in the lead role of Nellie Forbush in South Pacific and Sugar in the musical version of Some Like it Hot my senior year. Our school was chosen to perform at the Pabst Theatre for the City Wide Theatre Festival.  Only three schools were selected so this was a huge honor. 

All my life, I wanted to become a performer as I pretended to be on a Broadway stage with the living room curtains as my entrance. My dad would play cards at a local tavern and prop me up on the bar to sing Raindrops keep Falling on My Head; Geyser cheese popcorn and M&Ms served as my reward. We often would sing for nearby nursing homes during Christmas and I relished those times. 

My father was known as the singing fireman and sang the National Anthem at numerous Brewers games so performing was in my blood. Big dreams of moving to New York or Hollywood swirled around in my head for as long as I can remember.  However, finances did not allow me to attend NYU, so I had to settle for UW-Milwaukee as a theater major. 

After the first couple weeks of my freshman year in college, I realized this was not the life for me.  After working as an usher at Melody Top, I saw backstage and did not want to make the sacrifices one makes in show business.  Family was important to me and soon I was looking for a profession that had more security.  I took a year off of college to find myself and during this hiatus, I waited on tables and worked in community theater. That year I played Miss Adelaide in Guys & Dolls and met my first and former husband. As I did four years earlier, he missed the first audition and a mutual friend, who felt I would get a callback, persuaded me to ask the director to allow him to audition at callbacks.  He did and was cast opposite of me as Nathan Detroit.  During that year, I did a great deal of soul searching and knew I needed to earn my college degree. My advisor informed me that all my theater credits could be applied to an area of concentration for a BS in Education. In order to see if this was a good fit, I had to serve 80 hours of observation in a classroom. The minute I set foot in Ms. Brown’s 4th grade classroom at Hartford Elementary School, I knew it was where I needed to be.

In 1986, I was hired to teach 5th grade at Cedar Hills for the Franklin/Oak Creek School District and continued my teaching career in the district for the next 36 years. The arts brought so much richness to my life that it was my calling to do the same for my students. Stated at the top of my resume was my mission statement with my plans to implement the arts into my teaching, so when I was asked to organize the talent show, I was elated.

Besides the typical acts of singing, playing an instrument and baton twirling, I choreographed a dance number for every grade level and would rehearse during my lunch period. My principal even became part of the show and did not hesitate when I asked him to wear coconuts and a grass skirt to perform Honey Bun with me from South Pacific. The talent shows were a smash and became an annual tradition. During my seven years in the elementary classroom, I had my students performing in Thirteen Colonies plays, Revolutionary War Newscasts and Westward Movement Silent Films.  I wrote and directed interactive US History lessons and was asked to teach Social Studies in middle school and implement the same lessons for the World History curriculum. My new principal took notice and offered me the drama and speech position and 8th grade is where I spent the next 29 years. I hit the floor running and was so enthusiastic to bring theater into the lives of middle schoolers.  They were not as enthusiastic. It took awhile for my reputation to follow me.  At first, kids were screwing around and could not follow a direction to save their lives. 

Drama class was considered a blow off class and the attitude of how hard could it be to say some lines and move on stage was evident. Getting them to attend after school rehearsals was a joke!  My passion and perseverance finally prevailed and my two drama classes put on quite the show. It took a few more years and with strategic scheduling to avoid track, basketball and cheerleading practice, drama class became very cool.  After five years of buying the rights of shows and placing so much responsibility on a few students with the leading roles, I decided to write and create shows for more kids to shine in the limelight. Thus, students would audition for a skit in the overall production and not feel the pressure of learning so many lines. It provided more roles and opportunities and ultimately spread the theater bug. I would coax theme ideas from students and write skits to create an hour long production. We produced Laugh In-a 60s Show, Friday Night Live, Vaudeville, Hooray for Hollywood, Night at the Improv and my last was This 70’s Show in which I developed a skit based on Cheech & Chong’s Sister, Mary Elephant.   Each student portrayed one of the teachers in the school and when Sister Mary Elephant said roll call, the audience roared.

My favorite and very heart-wrenching show was written in 2001.  The year before I planned to write a show titled Salute to America to incorporate some of my skits from my elementary days and this theme could not have been more timely.  I also wanted to teach my little thespians about war, poverty, immigration, and discrimination.  They learned much more while playing the roles of Abraham Lincoln, Clara Barton, Amelia Earhart, Franklin Roosevelt, Linda Brown, Martin Luther King Jr, and Cesar Chavez because they got to live it. The production ended with a slide show to honor those who lost their lives during the attack on America. There wasn’t a dry eye in the audience during the encore when the entire cast sang America the Beautiful and gave their final bows to This is My County.

In addition to teaching drama and speech, I taught two sections of math. I recruited the toughest high risk kids who were failing my math class to work lights and sound for my shows. The first year I taught drama, I had this student, Paul, who adamantly claimed there was no way I was getting him on stage, so I assigned him to lights.  I had no clue how to operate the light board and this kid figured it out in 20 minutes. During tech rehearsal, I made sure the actors on stage knew how important Paul’s role was to the production as he had the power to turn the lights off at any moment. That following spring, I encouraged Paul to grace the stage at our talent show by playing Abbott in Who’s on First?. Not only did he memorize the lines, he nailed it. His deadpan humor was hilarious and the praise he received from his peers was priceless. I instilled in my students that every job in the theater was critical to the overall production and it wasn’t long before the actors, stage crew, and tech crew became one big happy family. Students of all archetypes: shy, cheerleader, jock, tough guy, gothic, nerd- they became great friends through the theater. And Paul, with a number of others, raised his grade from an F in math class to a B in one quarter. The arts can do that and often are not given the credit they so deserve. T-shirts were made with the show logo with students’ names on tha back and were worn the day of our show. It was such a source of pride in our school that it became the event of the year. Those early rehearsals of me pulling out my hair became rehearsals of pure discipline in which one could hear a pin drop when I gave directions. What my students learned by putting on a show is that after curtain call, everyone is on a natural high and there is nothing like camaraderie.

Unfortunately, due to budget cuts and a new superintendent, who wanted to make her mark and implement remedial math and reading classes, drama class was no longer. After 14 years of proving the impact the arts had on these kids, it meant nothing to the administration. A new middle school was built in 2008 and clearly there was no consideration given to building a stage. There was a black box placed between the gym and cafeteria. No lighting board, no make-up room; no costume room. No drama productions. The only space given to the theater department was a storage room that was filled with wrestling mats.

Still, I managed to keep the arts alive in our school through drama club, talent shows and field trips.

I have been in contact with former students through phone calls, letters and Facebook. One student, Sobe, contacted me 23 years later through Messenger to tell me when she was a student in my 5th grade classroom, I helped give her a voice. Another student, Summer, who was struggling with self-esteem, sent me a card to let me know she was attending college that Fall as a musical theater major and my words inspired her. I held her after class and insisted she sing as an audition for the talent show during lunch.  Summer sang “All of Me” in that talent show because I told her she had a gift she needed to share with others. At my retirement party, my daughters surprised me with a video of my former students' testimonials. They shared their memories of playing Thomas Jefferson, tap dancing with umbrellas to Singing in the Rain, performing with future community theater groups, twisting in a poodle skirt, loading the bus to Chicago to see Motown, watching inspiring films, YouTube videos of young performers, along with a host of artistic moments they recalled as part of my daily lessons.

 The arts have truly changed my life and put me on the path to such a positive and incredible journey. Not only did the arts bring joy to my life and spirit in my soul, the confidence I gained led me to win Mrs. Wisconsin-USA in 1994 and Mrs. Wisconsin-America in 1998. With this title and the pageant world, I was able to bring attention to the importance of the arts in education. As I reflect on my life of 59 years, it is difficult to imagine those years without my involvement in the performing arts. I did not flee to New York or Los Angeles as originally planned, but I still was able to make the arts an integral part of my life as well as my three daughters’. I sent my girls to the Milwaukee School of Arts which was not in the best area of town. They may have been secure in a little suburb school, but I knew in my heart my children needed exposure to all of the arts. To this day, they remind me that attending a school which centered around the arts made them more worldly, empathetic, and stronger human beings.  My first leading role in the musical South Pacific as Ensign Nellie Forbush even holds some connection to all three of my daughters. Courtney is a nurse, and my twins, Natalie, married a Frenchman and Nellie bears the name.  All three girls have taken the creativity the arts offer into their own lives.  Courtney has a side cookie business called, Life’s a Batch. Natalie lives in France and works as a translator for her own business as well as a copywriter for a company and Nellie is an art teacher and is active in the Milwaukee art culture. They are by far my finest production. The arts are in all of us and if we, as a society, do not embrace and support the arts, life may only be noise coming from the loud speaker, just making another announcement.


Lynn Bertoni-Shaw is an actor from Milwaukee, Wisconsin and has earned a Bachelor’s in Education with a minor in Theater from UW-Milwaukee along with a Masters from Aurora University, Illinois.  During the past 43 years, she has worked in both professional and community theater in the Milwaukee Metropolitan area and Chicago. Although Lynn loved performing on stage, she dedicated her life to the classroom as an educator and recently retired after 36 years of service. She has earned the titles of Mrs. Wisconsin-USA and Mrs. Wisconsin-America and this led her to an appearance on the Oprah Winfrey Show in which she agreed to spend a night in the Boone County Jail, Indiana to talk about her pseudo booking experience for the episode “Avoiding Arrests.”  Retirement offers Lynn the flexibility to develop her craft while pursuing greater involvement in theater, film and motivational speaking. In addition to Lynn’s life as an actor, teacher and mother, writing has been another passion and she plans to write her novel in the near future.

G&E In Motion does not necessarily agree with the opinions of our guest bloggers. That would be boring and counterproductive. We have simply found the author’s thoughts to be interesting, intelligent, unique, insightful, and/or important. We may not agree on the words but we surely agree on their right to express them and proudly present this platform as a means to do so.

The Aesthetic Experience of Observing Dance

Over the course of my dance career, I’ve heard many non-dancers make interesting remarks while reflecting on a dance performance they just watched. They would say things like: 

“Wow, I enjoyed the show so much…I felt every single move!” 

“Didn’t expect to enjoy it as much as I did. The performance really moved me.” 

“Couldn’t understand the concept behind the piece but it was pleasing to watch.” 

“I did not understand anything that was happening and I could not connect to it.”  

All of these statements are valid responses from audience members. However, has anyone ever stopped to ask the following questions: 1. What actually caused them to have this response? And 2. What factors affected their overall experience?

While exploring the phenomenological experiences that take place within dance, it is interesting to consider the observer’s experience while watching a dance performance. Observing movement is more than just an observation of several visual images in motion. It is an outer body experience. Some may think that the dancer’s experience in the acts of performing, choreographing, rehearsing, and/or improvising, differs completely from the experience of a person who is simply just observing. However, there are some similarities between the two. 

Dance is meant to conjure up an aesthetic experience for the observer, just as it is for the dancer or choreographer. It is usually created with the intention of causing the viewers to have a cultural, emotional, and/or meaningful response. While viewing a dance performance, audience members are forced to do more than just observe with their eyes.  They must use their perception, which goes past the typical gaze or stare. This means that they are forced to interpret and find meaningful value within the art they are currently experiencing. It can almost feel like a heightened, artistic, sixth sense.

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 When people go to see a dance performance, their expectations and feelings towards dance itself, can influence their overall experience and shape their perception of the performance. For example, if someone who is only interested in Hip Hop goes to see a Ballet, the experience they have while watching, and their interpretation of it, may differ from a person who favors Ballet. This doesn’t always mean they will disengage because of a lack of interest. Oftentimes people unexpectedly end up enjoying dance performances they were not interested in at first. However, in some cases, it is harder for the observer to fully digest something that is uninteresting to them or completely foreign. 

Based on my observational experiences within dance, I’ve discovered that prior information and viewer interest heavily influences the observer’s experience. Usually, I am almost certain of the experience I will have while attending a performance for a specific dance company or musical. The assumption I make is usually based upon my interest in the style or type of dance that I am going to watch. Also, if I am not familiar with the work of the choreographer or style of dance, prior reading or research would definitely influence my interest as well as my experience. 

In the article Dance Choreography and the Brain, Dutch choreographer and researcher Ivar Hagendoorn provides some reasoning for why this happens. “Experimental psychologists use a technique called priming to study how prior information in general, and unconscious attitudes in particular, bias people’s perception and judgment.” 

 In a separate article entitled The Dancing Brain he further explains: “Appreciating something cognitively and enjoying it emotionally are not the same. Each person’s individual experience of a dance performance is the product not just of perceptual processes, but also of their interaction with memories, associations, and personal preferences.” 

The phenomenological experience of observers is not just shaped by what they are processing visually at the performance but by their preconceived interests, information and expectations concerning the type of dance they are about to see.

When people watch dance their responses and/or feelings about the movement are also dependent upon their ability to comprehend and follow the piece. It can be hard for a person to fully understand the movement they are observing if they do not comprehend the feeling, experience, or true meaning that lies underneath the creation of the movement. Also, it may be hard to understand a movement that is specific to a culture with no prior knowledge, context, or understanding of that vocabulary. 

Collecting research, or actually undergoing the physical experience of art that is unfamiliar, provides the observer with a better outlook on the true meaning and purpose. In Variations on a Blue Guitar, Maxine Greene compares this experience to meeting someone new. When a person is meeting someone else for the first time, “the proper way to encounter another person is to be open to them, to be ready to see new dimensions, new facets of the other, to recognize the possibility of some fresh perception or understanding, so you may know the other better.” 

This concept can be applied to experiencing unfamiliar art for the very first time. Collecting prior information and taking interest in physically experiencing the style of movement can greatly influence and heighten your phenomenological experience while observing a performance. When the body is put through the actual motions and engaged in the movement being displayed, it provides a unique bodily experience that cannot be duplicated through words.

On the contrary, collecting prior information or having interest in a specific choreographer or dance company can lead to the development of expectations. This simply means that the same phenomenological experience is expected whenever individuals watch a performance from a dance company they thoroughly enjoyed. If people see a great performance, they expect to have the same experience when they see another piece by the same choreographer. However, if they are bored and do not enjoy the performance, their expectations are downgraded and they have trained their perceptual expectations. The observer’s experience can also affect choreographers while creating new work; they may either try to replicate the same emotionality of a previous work or they may explore another direction. This is the risk a choreographer has to take.

When the true depth of the movement is understood and appreciated, it enhances the observer’s response to it. For example, some observers may find themselves unconsciously dancing in their chair while watching a performance. Why? Because the brain is stimulated and the observed movement is causing the observer to have an outer body experience. 

In Some Speculative Hypotheses about the Nature and Perception of Dance and Choreography, Hagendoorn touches on this point. He hypothesizes that while observing dance, the brain is submerged in motor imagery. If this is correct, an observer can be described as virtually dancing along while watching choreography/movement. An observer watching choreography is flooded with choreography and various movements that may not be a part of the brain’s own movement repertoire. Or as Hagendoorn puts it, “And just as actual movement when exercised to excess produces a state of arousal, so may virtual movement.” 

One way for sure that this hypothesis could be tested is by recording the brain activity of someone watching a short dance sequence. However the results of this experiment may be hard to interpret because of the activation of many brain areas.

This topic has always been of great interest to me as an artist because of the experiences I’ve had as a choreographer while observing the dancers in my company rehearse or perform. At times I wouldn’t be able to clearly express in words what I was experiencing in my mind and/or body as I watched them move. The experience was like none other, and it immediately made me question if other dancers, choreographers, and non-dancers shared similar sentiments while viewing dance. Throughout my work as a choreographer, I’ve discovered that the explanations for the sensory feelings of an audience watching a finished work are no different from the sensory feelings of a choreographer watching a work in progress. Unlike the audience however, a choreographer can continue to adjust a piece until the entire work fits the perceptual and emotional impact the choreographer wishes for the audience. Nonetheless, we all end up walking away with some form of an aesthetic experience.  


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Michelle Isaac

Brooklyn-based performer, choreographer and dancer

Michelle Isaac was born and raised in Brooklyn, New York. She began dancing at the age of 4 in church, and started formal training in high school at Dr. Susan S. McKinney Secondary School of the Arts, under the direction of Zakiyah Harris.  Michelle received her BFA in Dance from LIU Post with Honors Recognition in 2015. Shortly after graduation, she performed in Tamara LaDonna's Moving Spirits Inc. as a company dancer, and completed a choreography residency with a contemporary ballet company in Brooklyn, NY. In 2019, Michelle completed her graduate studies through the Arnhold Graduate Dance Education Program at Hunter College, and graduated Summa Cum Laude with her MA in Dance Education and K-12 NY State Professional Certification. 

Michelle is one of the Co-Founders of a Brooklyn based dance company called Ntrinsik Movement and functions as the Artistic Director. With Ntrinsik, she has choreographed several works, produced concerts, hosted community and school workshops, and has performed in various NYC theaters, as well as theaters outside of NY. Aside from performing and choreographing, Michelle is a full time dance teacher, and continues to provide dance workshops and classes for children and adults in various churches and dance schools throughout her community. 

G&E In Motion does not necessarily agree with the opinions of our guest bloggers. That would be boring and counterproductive. We have simply found the author’s thoughts to be interesting, intelligent, unique, insightful, and/or important. We may not agree on the words but we surely agree on their right to express them and proudly present this platform as a means to do so.

A Dancer in Quarantine 💃

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Rochelle Martin-Vecchio

A New York-based dancer and choreographer

I entered 2020 having a 7-month-old baby boy, a husband, bills to pay, and a busy teaching schedule. I was choreographing a show that opened in February (while also performing in and costuming that show), rehearsing and performing with Peconic Ballet Foundation, planning a Dance Parade event for Third Street Music Settlement, getting other students ready for competition at the Broadway Dance Academy, and finally I was set to choreograph Long Island University’s Choreography Showcase. I thought it a well-balanced diet for an artist.

Fast Forward to May; I now have an 11-month-old who doesn’t stop moving (have no idea where he gets that from), but the rest of New York is on PAUSE.

Deep Breath. 

We can’t stop ourselves from reading social media all the time. We see artists, peers, and mentors express their thoughts openly. 

Well, here are my thoughts. It’s time to innovate. As role models, we tell our students to rise to the occasion, and to work hard to achieve your goals. Fight!  We can’t be in the classroom teaching or in the theatre performing but that doesn’t mean we are restricted. At times like these, I think back to choreography class at Long Island University where we read Twyla Tharp’s The Creative Habit. Tharp states, “Creativeness is not a gift from God.” She goes on, “In order to be creative we have to prepare to be creative.” So why are so many creators viewing this situation as artistically negative? Let’s be innovative and prepare to get those creative juices flowing.

I wake up every day exhausted. Fun fact: babies between 9 and 10 months old go through sleep regression. No, he doesn't sleep through the night. Since 4 months, my little man has slept through the night but he has now taken back that luxury. I try to keep my routine the same but it’s very hard with a growing baby. It’s his world, I'm just living in it. Diaper change. I get ready every morning. A ballet teacher once told me, “You're never fully dressed without some mascara and lipstick.” I do my hair and put on my make-up and get in my workout/dance clothes while chasing the energizer bunny along with his partner in crime (a sixty-five pound dog). Diaper change. It makes me feel good- alive, and motivated. I work out and get those endorphins going. I watch my son discover new things every day. I realize that, as babies, we never stop learning. So why do we dismiss this as we get older? We should never stop learning.

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Diaper change/lunch time.  While my son naps, I watch videos via Instagram and Facebook that show artists rising to the occasion, disallowing the coronavirus to defeat us. I talk to other artists to see how they are overcoming this obstacle. I brainstorm during what we adults call meetings.  

I teach my ballet classes on Zoom. My students are a constant reminder and inspiration for me to keep inspiring, pushing forward, and rising to the challenge. I am so thankful.

By the time I'm in the midst of teaching, my son gets bored hearing me repeat, “Core. Knees over toes. Posture. Long neck. Stretch your feet. Aghhhh! Arms! Arms! Arms!” My husband comes home from work and rescues my son from hearing me yell, “It ain't Christmas! Don’t let me see Santa’s belly, and demi plie! CORE!”

I recently read a post on social media about World War II. It showed a picture of Ballet dancers still rehearsing and practicing their craft during those war-torn times. Okay, we might not be in a World War right now, but we are nevertheless in a war against a virus. People are still on the front lines, people are grieving, and people are going through hardships. In a way, it’s not that big of a difference. They made it work. They made it work without Facebook, Instagram, and Tiktok.

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At night, I enjoy the family time I have with my husband, son, and dog, and the memories we’re creating, memories that would not have been created if the world were still going on as usual. I have the chance to cook dinner and eat with my family, which, as any artist knows, doesn't happen all the time.  These are memories that I will cherish and not take for granted, just like all the times I stepped onto a stage and thanked the audience for my life. These are memories that I’ll be able to talk to the next generation about: “What do you mean, you CAN’T? When I couldn’t teach from the studio or theatre, I did it via the Internet! Don’t make an excuse to escape, pave the path to create.” When I say this I can’t help but think of my grandfather’s generation, born in the 1920’s, who told us how they walked uphill both ways to get to school.

Lastly, I hope this experience humbles people. Let them appreciate the time spent in the studio prepping for the stage.

Let it allow every artist to enjoy the process and the journey, not the destination. I hope it allows them to dig back to their roots, create, and develop into better artists.

I hope it opens people's eyes to how strong a group, a team, a family, or a community can be, and how they can become bigger and stronger. I hope that, once this storm passes, the world sees a beautiful renaissance in the arts.

With Grace and Patience,

Rochelle


Rochelle Martin-Vecchio trained at the Joffrey Ballet School, Alvin Ailey American Dance Theatre, and she also privately trained with Trutti Gasparinetti. She has had the pleasure to perform at The West Point Military Academy and in the debut of Dear Nadezhda by Venti Petrov in New York City. She has danced principal roles and has had work created on her. She had the honor of performing Cara Gargano’s “Mahler Pas de deux" in Manhattan at Symphony Space. She taught the Ballet and Contemporary classes from 2016 to 2019 at Tilles Dance Conference.  Rochelle teaches ballet and choreographs for the Students Honor Institute at LIU Post since it begun in 2016. She currently teaches from the Hamptons to Manhattan. 

G&E In Motion does not necessarily agree with the opinions of our guest bloggers. That would be boring and counterproductive. We have simply found the author’s thoughts to be interesting, intelligent, unique, insightful, and/or important. We may not agree on the words but we surely agree on their right to express them and proudly present this platform as a means to do so.