I write this letter as I am headed back to NYC from Washington, DC. I have had the privilege of working with colleagues on advocacy through the President’s Committee on the Arts and the Humanities, and last night I had the unique pleasure of taking a guided tour through the National Portrait Gallery. I’m a bit embarrassed to say I had never been—perhaps you will excuse me, knowing that I am often in one of the
many theatres in DC.

While there is so much to take in and consider, there is a particular moment I can’t shake, a point in the tour I’d like to share. It was a nighttime visit, and the tour began with early photographs, Picturing the Presidents: Daguerreotypes and Ambrotypes from the National Portrait Gallery’s Collection. These portraits date back to 1843, with daguerreotype portraits of former U.S. President John Quincy Adams being the first, and George Washington represented in the exhibit with an 1852 daguerreotype of his iconic portrait from 1796. I suppose it’s still a daguerreotype even if President Washington didn’t have to sit still for it.

Later, we visited the exhibition America’s Presidents with many well-recognized portraits. Once a very traditional form, by the mid-20th century, Presidents began to break with tradition. First there is Franklin Delano Roosevelt and then Kennedy, Clinton, and Obama. The ritual of capturing our President continues, but the art form seems to be evolving, and portraits are less predictable. There is a separate gallery that has portraits and photos of the First Ladies but, of note, in the America’s Presidents wing, there are two First Ladies on the walls. Only Jackie Onassis, who appears in a photo with President Kennedy, and Eleanor Roosevelt, who is given her own portrait. I’d love to talk with the curator about those choices.

By far the most breathtaking moment for me came in the middle of this tour, as I turned toward the exhibition of Recent Acquisitions. One image: Carmen de Lavallade. The impact of this image on me was apparently not lost on my colleagues. They come from around the country. Scholars, artists, musicians, filmmakers, producers. Having been brought together with the singular goal of promoting the arts, the humanities, and national cultural policy, we are in constant conversation with each other. I learn every time I am in their presence and in community with the federal agencies that so carefully support us with the limited resources granted them. I attempted to give words to what I have experienced when Carmen walks in a room. Grace and strength, at times humor, every possible kind of beauty emanating from her, and light filling the room and all those in it. I was asked what it is like to work so closely with so many directors and choreographers. I am often asked this question, and it is one of my favorite questions, in any setting.

I said that I believe you sit at the intersection of the arts and the humanities. You are artists, you are historians, you are poets in your own right—choreographers, as with Carmen, whose poetry comes to us as movement—you are educators, and you are teachers. The work of directors and choreographers is often in each of these fields, but I think what is least known about you is that to do your work, you are engaging all these parts of you. Your work in preproduction and in the rehearsal hall is cross-disciplinary. It’s also true that when you leave the rehearsal hall you go to universities or community colleges or studios. You mentor formally and informally. You are civic leaders; you go to school board meetings. You publish nonfiction and fiction, textbooks, and biographies. You are visual artists yourselves, or intimately involved in these forms as your visions take shape. You work in film and TV. You do work that is immersive, traditional, devised, and experiential.

My mind bent toward SDC Journal and our commitment to having this publication capture all that and more about you. To introduce you to one another, to share your artistry, your curiosity, and your never-ending reach for something all but unattainable. SDC Journal has brought some of you together in collaborations or over cups of coffee, or maybe even inspired you to see work you might not otherwise have been drawn to.

Just as I was drawn to Carmen, I hope that you continue to be drawn to one another in these pages. The Union celebrates its 65th anniversary this year. There are many stories that have been told—parts of our past we know something about—and many stories of what is to come still to be told.

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As many have likely heard, former SDC Executive Director Barbara Hauptman passed away in August. Barbara’s contributions to the Union and SDC Foundation were extraordinary. A fearless leader and exceptional manager, she guided the Union through innumerable challenges and celebrations. Over her tenure she built a foundation that made it possible for SDC to set its sights high as we fully entered the 21st century. She will be missed. We send our sympathy to her family, her friends, and her community.

In Solidarity,

Laura Penn
Executive Director