If anyone were to look at or search for a representative portfolio of work I’ve either produced or been a part of over the 40+ years of activity in the  business of building community through the lenses of music and movement I think the first word coming to mind would be “patchwork,” immediately followed by “hodgepodge” or “mishmash.” What would then most probably follow would be a long list of terms such as
“unlikely,
disorganized,
unkempt,
happenstance,
enthusiastic,
eclectic,
whirlwind,
and spontaneous”
just to mention a very few.


More than anything else, this last listing could also find its way into some sort of “declaration” on my behalf; a sort of “footprint” anyone interested in looking might find and agree with right now, and then--if I’m perhaps lucky-- when my presence in this world becomes a footnote. 

I say this with the firm belief that,  even though along with countless millions of others, I have never garnished a Wikipedia page, everyone on this planet has a story--their story. Right now, in the midst of being moderately active in the arts and teaching community of Philadelphia, most of my recorded “story” can be found in the many, many boxes housed in the basement of my South Philadelphia home. Before today, these boxes and stories travelled with me every time I made a move: New York, Washington, DC, Verona, Italy, back to New York for a bit, and then Philadelphia as (at least for the moment) final resting place. 

Some of these boxes have remained unopened since their original packing up, over two decades ago, When I finally began to get in order my brand new, self-built South Philadelphia home, I sighed a big sigh and decided to have a look-see. This very coincidentally occurred at the same time that age-old traces of me began popping up on the Internet. There were things showing up that I barely remembered, and I encountered the same situation while wading through the multiple cardboard containers that, even though heinously out of any kind of understandable order or sequence, clearly said that most of my existence has been dedicated to bringing people together through the healing power of dance and music.

As I became more and more involved with the stateside artist community , reconnecting with old colleagues in New York and making new connections with much younger artists in Philadelphia, I kind of lost the courage to fully reinsert myself and my artistic voice. There were many, many doubts, still for the most part unexplainable.

It is without a doubt my recent collaboration with Almanac founder and artistic director Ben Grinberg for the 2020 virtual Philadelphia Fringe Festival that opened a door to my past. Fun with Dick and Jane wound up being first a series of conversations with Ben that can only be defined as “gushings;” telling my story, speaking about my professional  and personal life to a fellow artist half my age was sort of a deal-breaker. The few things I had skimmed off the surface of my cardboard box “digs” wound up being a rich resource, with the promise of even better things to come. I was able to watch our show, a result of all the talk, all the sharing, and finally the meeting of two individuals who had never shared a performance space.

And so I’ve finally let that cat out of the bag, am still in the midst of digging, discovering, sorting, and selecting and am happy to share what I’ve found with anyone who wants to know more. I am especially excited to share this tangled tale with the Philadelphia arts community, in the small hope that it may invite them to consider the many, many ways there are of “knowing.”