When I came to SDC some 15 years ago, I knew very little about choreography. I had done what many do. I took childhood dance classes with recitals in the neighborhood park on one of those “stages” next to the BBQs, perfected the Hustle thanks to Van McCoy & the Soul City Symphony, and performed in the requisite high school musical. I knew West Side Story, Chicago. Dance was not unfamiliar to me—at least that’s what I thought. I think I sensed that dance was a portal into another world, but I was naïve about how it was manifest. Almost immediately upon arriving at SDC in 2008, I realized that I, like too many in our industry, had no real idea about the craft of choreography, or the artists who created the work, or how they did just that.
Thus began my education.
My first teacher was Donald Saddler. I seized the opportunity at a lunch set up to discuss the event at which he would be the recipient of the SDCF “Mr. Abbott” Award. It was an all-too-brief conversation in which he walked me through his process and the unique challenges and opportunities of choreographing work on Broadway with leading directors for leading actors. We also talked about his lifelong relationship with SDC Member and fellow dancer Marge Champion. (They met each week well into their 90s to dance together.) I asked him if there was anyone who inspired him. Without a beat he said, “Andy Blankenbuehler.” He talked about Andy’s storytelling and vocabulary, his rigor and vision. I listened attentively, not fully understanding much of what he shared. A few years later, we launched SDC Journal, and the centerpiece of the second issue was a conversation with Andy (which was reprinted in the Fall 2022 commemorative anniversary double issue). I heard Donald in my head as Andy talked about how he approaches building a vocabulary. I soon began to understand the different ways choreographers make their work—on their own with their own bodies, working with Associates, with dancers, in collaboration with a director.
George C. Wolfe once talked with me about the tragic impact AIDS had on the passing on of knowledge from one generation of choreographers to another and how this made mentorship today even more vital. When I first saw Steven Hoggett’s work, I understood movement as a form of choreography, and the boundaries widened for me. My understanding deepened. Liza Gennaro schooled me on the theatrical family tree going back to Jack Cole. I watched combat sequences on stage, looked beyond the sword or fistfight, and saw choreography.
Today, SDC Membership includes nearly 1,000 choreographers and director-choreographers. Choreographers are at the table, impacting the shape of SDC—just as some 65 years ago Agnes de Mille, through her own tenacity, placed choreographers at the table right next to directors as the Union was formed and named: The Society of Stage Directors and Choreographers.
As SDC keeps a keen eye on the horizon, it is clear that choreography is playing an increasingly influential role not just in the theatre, as we have always considered the bounds of the theatre, but in the larger cultural fabric. More and more choreographers are shifting forms, breaking through cultural barriers, collaborating with one another and artists in other fields. Choreography continues to be on the leading edge of the evolution of the theatre.
And so, my education is not complete. Today I am schooling myself in the work of choreographers who are creating in other live spaces—a journey that began before the pandemic but now seems even more relevant. I recently had the pleasure of spending time with Vincent Paterson, whose career spans many stages around the world, most notably creating work for pop stars—both on stages and in videos. When the stage is different and the relationship to the audience and to other artists is different, does it change what we call “choreography”? It’s the same, and different. I’m still learning.
In this issue of the Journal, we glimpse just a few of the stories that choreographers have to tell. Deeply insightful and wonderfully readable, we are lucky to have their words on the page and their vocabulary on the stage. It’s a joy and a privilege to be part of sharing these stories.
In Solidarity,
Laura Penn
Executive Director