"apple pies beautifully baked to perfection"

Extra-long and juicy edition this week because we have the second-ever New in town feature, with Dara Silverman of Agile Rascal Theatre, and some remembrances of Judith Jamison. (If you missed the first New in town, with Chels Fryer, you can catch it here.)

New in town - welcome!

Dara working the pedicab during a performance of GHOST RIDE

One of the highlights of my fall, not even just Fringey September, was seeing GHOST RIDE, or the play that blows away, created by Agile Rascal Theatre. The play takes place outdoors, with audience members following the scenes while riding along with the action on bicycles. Each show started while it was still light outside and then ended in darkness. I was stunned by what Artistic Director Dara Silverman and her incredible collaborators had created both on an artistic level (I was chilled to the core by their rendering of the afterlife) and a technical level (I could hear everything! A marvel!). The work is definitely still reverberating within me. She moved to Philly in a few years ago and below are some excerpts from a conversation on a warm fall day:

What brought you to the area?

 I was looking to be closer to family on the east coast. I lived in Oakland for a decade, and one of my friends called Philly “the Oakland of the east,” and something about that stuck in my brain. I was looking for an affordable city with a vibrant arts community and bike community. I live in Germantown, which I love because it means whenever I come to South or West Philly I’ll put like 15-20 miles on a bike. And it’s through a park, so that’s pretty sweet. It doesn’t always work that way, often I’ll just stay up there, but…

How’s it treating you so far?

 It’s hard to differentiate Philadelphia from the way, like current climate is. Like, is Philly shittier than Oakland? Or did I just move during a fucking pandemic and now Donald Trump is going to be the president again [editorial: this conversation took place on October 25 😳] and shit is dark right now in the world? And I’m older?

But honestly, in many ways, Philly has been really fucking amazing. …. I found a bunch of artists who wanted to put on this play with me and were totally game to have an artistic adventure and put their trust in me in that way and that was great. I love seeing the art that people make here. I’m always surprised at how–I don’t even want to say the word ‘good’ because I feel like good implies something—but how everybody — well, not everybody, but lots of people —are doing lots of really interesting stuff, and following their own weird webs. It feels like there’s a lot of interesting arts universes to follow and pay attention to and I feel really welcomed in as a member of that, and that feels super sweet. I feel like I’m among peers in a really lovely way that I don’t think I’ve ever quite felt before.

 I think also we’re close enough to New York, that there’s a feeling like we’re taking ourselves seriously, but we’re not in New York in that everybody’s gunning for some kind of fame. There’s really a love of it. I like that proximity to New York and the distance from it.

What kind of collaborators would you like to meet?

The reality is that I love people who love bikes and love arts—all walks of life, all different kinds of arts, and all different kinds of bikes too. I’m looking for people who are already at that intersection, and I love also like pushing bike people into the arts and I love pushing arts people to figure out how they can carry more shit on their bike, or help them get a better bike. It’s probably from a childlike desire to put a bunch of my friends on bicycles but I also think, even with the people in arts organizations or bike organizations, it’s often the people who are already at that intersection that perk up. When people have already lit their own fires a little bit, they’re really really excited about this thing.

What’s next for GHOST RIDE and Agile Rascal?

I want to partner with funders because I want to do this again. I would love to remount this play in Philly and/or in other places. There are things I want to do differently, I want to rewrite the script, I want to change some things about the design. It definitely lives in Philly but I also think there are other places that would be interested in it, and I love the idea of setting it in other landscapes. That’s one of the things I’m excited about. [editorial: this project deserves all of the funds! Check out the audience testimonials on their instagram! William Penn, let me gush to you!]

I’d also like to work more collectively. Now that I know other people here in Philly, what is the art project that takes form around the skills that we can gather as a group? What is the thing that starts to come from those imaginations? Where are the funds to support a weird ensemble theater company… I imagine that biking is still central to it, but that might even loosen up into things more experiential, immersive, outdoors, environmental. Where do other people’s interests start to pull in other directions?

I think the sound thing that we figured out is really big. [editorial: 1000% agree] It opens up a lot of creative possibility for being in interesting places, for controlling an environment in a particular way. That was developed for this project but what can we do with that next? That feels really, really exciting. 

Judith Jamison, 1943 - 2024

Last weekend, on November 9, Judith Jamison passed away. This Philadelphia native may be most frequently celebrated for her performance career, the iconic piece Cry was made on her, but she was also a choreographer herself, and an administrator. After Ailey died of AIDS in 1989, the company was not in great financial shape, and over her 21 years as Artistic Director, she turned it into an international force and one of the largest dance companies in the country. The death of a founder often means the death of their company, and the fact that Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater thrived during those years instead is a tribute to her leadership.

I read some official obituaries, but was most moved by these tributes from dancers who had more personal memories. These remembrances were originally shared on individual facebook pages, and are shared here with permission from the artists.

photo by Martha Swope, Jamison in front, from an Off-Broadway production of "Am I Asking Too Much?", 1979

Dulce Capadocia 

"Sometime in the late 80's , she came to school and taught the most unforgettable and technically difficult series of master classes. She was the highlight of my graduate dance work at Temple University. Despite the humid East Coast summer heat of a very sweaty dance studio, we all carried on upon feeling the palpable power in the room. It was her big presence. On and off the stage, she was graceful magnetism. And her 6 foot frame towered over us. She taught in the style of Lester Horton; I remember the smell of sweat on dancer bodies as we twirled, lept and circled the grand studio in the HPERD building, eyes and young hearts wide open, taking in all of her mighty energy while dancing to the pulsing sound of her fabulous live drummers! She was both a stern and tender teacher who was lovingly generous in spirit. I was privileged that my solo "Soliloquy" was chosen to be part of a dance concert honoring her and her dance work through her Jamison Project Dance Company. Her dancers were exquisite dance machines, fluid in movement and eloquently powerful in physicality. After the concert, she offered kind words about my piece and whispered that she liked its quiet intensity. Her mother owned a bakery in Philly and after the hard work in her classes, she brought boxes of delicious apple pies beautifully baked to perfection. The following year, she was chosen as Alvin Ailey's Artistic Director and the notable company rose to great celebratory heights under her helm. What beautiful dance memories of youth and of that special summer she has given me and my friends. We immensely enjoyed her teachings and person. Thank you, wonderful Maestra! We respectfully remember you with gratitude and love. Rip Judith Jamison."

Iquail Shaheed

"My favorite memories of Judi (Judith Jamison) are actually not of her but rather of her effect on the spaces in which she entered.

I was a student at the Alvin Ailey American Dance Center in 99/2000. I remember being in Mrs Forsythe‘s Horton IV class (in the old building). On any day, It would be a regular class filled with the registered students, first and second company members, and outside guests, usually professionals from the field who were performing in NYC for the week and taking a preshow class (and secretly trying to audition for the company). Then suddenly, the women would “snatch” back their hair, take off the extra warm-ups, and put on a quick “beat” of eye shadow, some lipstick, and hoop earrings. My 15-year-old self had no idea what was happening on the side of the room. I was too much into showing off my mastery of the Fortifications to Mrs Forsythe, who would be teaching the “across the floor” combination or some extremely challenging variation of a study. For example, she would say, “Do the whole Elementary Balance on relève” (I always loved that challenge). When, all of a sudden, the WHOLE ENTIRE class would start “going OFF,” like a West Philly "battle royale" in the summertime; extra long balances, many, many turns, higher than sky-high développes, and more. Confused and inspired to know what was happening, I looked around, and there was Judi, leaning against the white door frame, watching keenly and intently.

That’s when I understood her power and majesty. (There’s only one other person I’ve known and know who also commands a dance studio in this way.)

Rest well, Ms. Jamison, a Philadelphia native, international treasure, and a true legend!"

photo by Andrew Eccles

Nejla Yatkin

"In memory of Judith Jamison – an artist whose presence on stage was as powerful as her warmth and grace off of it. As a tall dancer, watching Judith Jamison perform felt like finding a part of myself on stage; her way of taking up space with unapologetic elegance and strength was both a revelation and an affirmation. She showed us that dance is not just a series of steps, but an act of embodiment, a way of claiming the world around you with dignity and grace.

I still remember the day I saw her in the hallway at the Ailey school. She stopped, looked right at me, and with such sincerity, told me, 'You are so beautiful.' In that moment, I felt truly seen – not just for how I moved or looked, but for the dancer, the artist, and the human being I was becoming. That brief exchange holds a special place in my heart.

Judith was more than a legend; she was a lighthouse for all of us who sometimes wondered if we belonged. Her legacy reminds us to embrace our uniqueness, to take up space without hesitation, and to honor the beauty in each step of our journey. Thank you, Judith, for showing us what’s possible. Your light will forever guide us."

photo by Martha Swope, Jamison in front from an Off-Broadway production of "Am I Asking Too Much?", 1979 (could not find an identification for her partner; if you know, let me know!)

Sisterly Affection (a bit of Philadelphia appreciation)

In honor of Jamison's Philly roots, please enjoy these little excerpts from the work she created with Rennie Harris and Robert Battle, Love Stories.

If you are new to the newsletter, welcome and thanks for reading! You can check out the 'about' page if you'd like a little context for where I'm coming from. Each newsletter closes with a Philadelphia moment, institution, or window cat of the week because I love it here. And you can always hit me up with what you're curious about, steamed about, excited about in your own arts ecosystem or in Philly at solidseam@gmail.com.

P.S. I finally left twitter this week. Find me at solidseam.bsky.social if you're over there too.