Having grown up in a predominantly ballet-centric environment my knowledge of current modern dance was very limited. Bill T. Jones was one of the few names that I was aware of. My interest in his company began to grow when I was in High School and learned that one of my family friends (and soon to be professor) had danced with him for many years. My freshman year of college the company came to Milwaukee and I watched a performance of Serenade: The Preposition, one of his pieces on Abraham Lincoln.

Bill T. Jones stands out to me as a choreographer primarily because of the subject matter that he brings into his dances. He is always presenting a strong idea to his audience, just like a preacher or a philosopher would do, except that Bill does it through dance. I feel connected to his works; I feel as if the dance has something important to say. As a choreographer myself, I strive to make pieces that speak to the hearts of my audience. I want to make them feel something, whether it be happy, uncomfortable, guilty, awed, or scared. Often times though, I get apprehensive about the message I am presenting and how it could be perceived. Bill does not seem to be afraid of what he is making his audience feel. Perhaps that comes with being a successful choreographer for so many years.

All of Bill's pieces are incredibly important to both him and his public. Both him and his work are symbols of hope and activism. Through his dances he demands equality and democracy. He forces us to think about our lives and also our inevitable deaths. He brings his audience into the "real world". Nothing is held back. Nothing is sugar coated. Everything is undeniably real.

I believe that today's world needs a healthy dose of that kind of reality. Everyone is so polarized and so much is perceived to be either black or white. Good or bad. Bill's work moves past that. He dives headfirst into the gray area and forces his audience to come along for the ride. He challenges religion, politics, history. He asks questions with his choreography that most people are afraid to ask.

Bill began dancing and choreographing during the mid 1970's. The United States was at the tail end of the Vietnam War, and the protests and peace movements were running full force. People had a strong sense of political activism and were practicing their freedom of speech by opposing the war and the nuclear weapons being used. The end of the war also saw a large influx of people seeking political asylum arrive in the United States from southeast Asia The 1970's also played host to changes in the ongoing civil rights movement. Segregation versus integration between blacks and whites was prominently featured in daily life, an issue which was surely very important to Bill. The peaceful protest ideas of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr and the idea of Black Power from Malcolm X were still ringing in the ears of African Americans everywhere.

Bill's choreography often times speaks of the want and need of freedom. What is freedom? Why do we seek it so adamantly? In the early 2000's, Bill explored these concepts through three different pieces about Abraham Lincoln: Serenade/The Preposition, Last Supper at Uncle Tom's Cabin/ The Promised Land, and Fondly Do We Hope, Fervently Do We Pray. He says that growing up, Abraham Lincoln was one of the few white men he was allowed to love unconditionally.

Through the 1980's Bill and Arnie's choreography began to gain momentum as their works became increasingly successful. The homosexual, interracial couple were very proud and open about their sexuality and love for each other. They were very much a symbol for both racial and sexual equality.

The 1980's also saw the beginning of the AIDS crisis. The disease first made itself known by largely affecting the gay community. Young, otherwise healthy gay men were being attacked by rare cancers and infections, and it became known that it was both deadly and contagious. A wave of prejudice chased those who contracted the disease, as it was mainly found in homosexuals and intravenous drug users.

Arnie and Bill were no more immune to the epidemic than anyone else, and they both contracted the AIDS virus. On March 30, 1988 Arnie Zane passed away due to AIDS related causes. Bill survived. Dealing with the fear his disease caused in others and the survivors guilt felt from Arnie's passing, the evening length work Still/Here was created in 1997. 

As I am writing this blog, I realize that tomorrow will mark 24 years since the death of Arnie Zane. I'm sure that even after all of these years, tomorrow will be a somber day for Bill T. Jones.

While Jones did not begin his dance training until he was in college, he was always a very physical individual. His father was a farmer, and Bill grew up helping him work in the fields and orchards. In high school he excelled in track and was a star sprinter. He also took interest in his school's theater program and played the lead in their production of "The Music Man".

Once at college, Jones began to take modern and ballet classes with Percival Borde, husband and dancer with Pearl Primus. Borde's background included a strong interest in creating works that showcased a blend of traditional ethnic dance and ritual forms with modern dance and theater. His 1958 program, "Earth Magician" incorporated Aztec, Watusi, and Yoruba movement. He also produced educational programs to tour schools and teach children about African culture. Borde was proud of his heritage and he made a point of sharing his knowledge with both his viewers and his students. Jones' work tends to be based upon his own, sometimes very personal, experiences. I am sure that it was partially Borde's encouragement to be proud of your roots and self that prompted Jones to create such honest work.

From the articles and interviews that I have read, Jones comes off as a very proud person. He is very aware of his body and how it is perceived and viewed by others. The body as a desirable object fuels much of his movement. "My eroticism, my sensuality is often coupled with wild anger and belligerence. I know that I can be food for fantasy, but at the same time I am a person with a history - and that history is in part the history of exploitation." Jones' awareness of his own body and sensuality coincides with his acceptance of his sexual orientation. Jones began his relationship with Arnie Zane while at SUNY Binghampton. The two men were at the forefront of the sexual liberation that was seen during the mid to late 1970's, before the AIDS crisis was in full swing. He describes himself and Arnie: "We had the impression that we were perhaps god-like, desirable, and eternally young. The promised revolution was happening, it would go on forever".
However, it did not go on forever. Arnie was diagnosed with AIDS during the 1980's and passed away in 1988. Jones also had contracted the disease.

I believe that these personal experiences of Jones directly mirror his work over the years. When he and Arnie were working together, they made pieces that contained openly gay choreography. They pushed the boundaries of what was considered appropriate for the public and what should have remained private. As the two were discovering and exploring themselves, their work centered around identity politics and the question of what freedom really meant. After Arnie's illness and death, Jones' work took a slightly different turn. While still always pushing the limit, his pieces began to investigate faith, religion, and mortality. While Zane was gone, Jones survived and must live with a terminal illness.  In more current interviews, Jones is humble. He speaks like a man who has known both pain and euphoria.

William Tass Jones was born in Bunnell, Florida to a family of farmers. At a young age, Bill moved with his family to Wayland, NY. He attended college at SUNY Binghampton to study theater on an athletics scholarship and it was here that he began his dance training. In 1973, after traveling to Europe, he returned to Binghamton and founded the American Dance Asylum. He went on to meet his partner, Arnie Zane and together they created and toured many solos and duets centered around issues of identity. They went on to create Bill T. Jones/Arnie Zane Dance Company in 1982.

Bill T. Jones is an incredibly strong individual. His work lights upon subjects that could often be considered taboo. In his early days, he and Arnie performed solo works and duets that contained openly gay choreography. A mixed race, homosexual couple, the duo performed boldly, daring anyone to challenge them. After Arnie, a victim of the AIDS crisis, passed away, Bill choreographed Still/Here. He goes straight to the emotional core of accepting our own mortality and what it means to live with a life-threatening disease. The company is known for collaborating with other artists, whether they be musicians, singers, or visual artists, and often incorporates text into his dances. It is Bill's fearless choreography and stagecraft that marks his place in dance history. He has been honored with numerous awards for his work, including a MacArthur Fellowship, two Tony Awards, and 2010 Kennedy Center Honors.

About Me

I am a dancer currently training at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee. Prior to college I had a lot of ballet training. Both of my parents were professional ballet dancers, so I grew up in that world. I knew that I wanted to dance, but ballet was clearly not for me.  I began to become interested in modern dance around early high school. I loved the physicality of it and the freedom of movement. Ballet felt so static compared to the possibilities that modern dance offered. 

I believe that dance is more than just a physical activity. It is a philosophy through which I can view the whole world. Dance engages both mind and body, and I find that dancers are therefore much more integrated people. My movement can be inspired by everyday motion, whether that be someone fidgeting by a bus stop or the way flocks of birds change directions in the sky. My choreography is influenced by everything that I read, see, hear, or experience. Dancing is the most human form of communication, and I find that the ideas I feel that I cannot verbalize I can still express through movement.