Martha Hill and the Making of American Dance

Juilliard at Lincoln Center, 1970–1972

Juilliard at Lincoln Center, 1970–1972 Lincoln Center celebrated its official opening in January 1970 with festive nationally televised programs. The event also marked the beginning of a decade of remarkable growth for both ballet and modern dance companies and their audiences. Funding from the NEA bolstered touring opportunities: residencies for visiting choreographers formed new alliances with regional companies. Although the surroundings of the new Juilliard Dance Division were dramatically different from the old location, adjustments were made and within months everyone had settled in. But for Martha Hill, having navigated the uncertainties of the 1960s, the event marked only the beginning of another difficult decade. With the help of an old friend, Baird Hastings (Juilliard’s orchestra librarian as well as a music and dance historian), Martha scouted out available underutilized spaces, claiming several designated for the orchestra during seasonal concert times that could periodically be used for extra studio space. Another loyal colleague, Al Pischl, who advocated for dance whenever he could, now handled Juilliard’s press office and managed the school bookstore.1 And friend, chief librarian Ben Ludin, who was privy to administrative records, kept a lookout for signs of trouble. Along with administrative offices, the corner cafeteria and lounge on the second floor was the one place where all students could gather. Between classes, dancers used the stairways to get there, avoiding the long walk to the central elevators. One of the first official memos to Martha from the dean’s office made it known that Juilliard officials had new expectations for their students. Found traipsing between floors “inappropriately” dressed, the letter of complaint asked that they be reprimanded (just as the chagrined Benningtonites had demanded in 1934). SAB’s dancers in the mix, on the other hand, were beyond the jurisdiction of the dean. Although an occasional Balanchine sighting in the hallway was of passing interest to the Juilliard dancers, little interaction took place between the two groups of students. Only the after-school commotion caused by flocks of youngsters and their parents to and from SAB’s afternoon classes hinted that a quite different environment existed next door. For students such as Blake Brown, the new building was an enormous improvement over the Claremont Avenue facility. Nonetheless , he was aware of a partition that went up “to separate us, and to separate the property” during the first year.2 Risa Steinberg concurred, “We felt weird about that glass door.”3 On the surface, Juilliard at Lincoln Center remained as removed from current events as it had on Claremont. But many students, having participated in marches and protest rallies in opposition to the escalating war in Vietnam, now sympathized with the gay liberation movement that had erupted since the Greenwich Village “Stonewall” rebellion in June 1969. Like Lefty at Town Hall during the McCarthy era, Martha had learned to sidestep any public stance on such issues while privately supporting the people behind the scenes. Even as increased numbers of openly homosexual Juilliard students were becoming involved in gay pride rallies, Martha’s colleagues still felt obliged to conceal their sexual preferences. Yet attitudes were changing; the American Psychiatric Association had recently removed homosexuality from its list of psychiatric disorders, and lesbian liberation was spreading. Not all the men had an easy time adjusting to sexual innuendo within the conservatory. An ex-GI and percussionist before coming to Juilliard, dance student Bill Hug remembered resisting Tudor’s overtures. Still, Bill longed for comments from the choreographer he most admired: after showing his work on a “one o’clock concert,” he asked Tudor for feedback. “Why not come to my place tonight for dinner and we can talk,” Tudor suggested. Bill replied, “I’m busy tonight.” “Well, what about tomorrow night?” “I’m busy then, too.” “I guess you’re busy every night then,” Tudor responded. “Yes, that’s right,” Bill told him, sorry that he was not able to handle the advance more diplomatically. “He didn’t hold it against me,” Bill explained. “During the next choreography class, he gave me wonderful advice that I really appreciated.”4 Other protégés saw Tudor as their mentor and “as a role model for a young homosexual” in an environment where a good number of the faculty members and administrators were themselves homosexual. “While Tudor did nothing to deny or hide his sexual preference, neither did he make it an issue. . . . There were few such role models for young men who were struggling with their sexuality...