Twyla Tharp and Interstate 81
TWYLA THARP AND
INTERSTATE 81
I had been watching a documentary
about a white-haired woman, a legendary
master of creative processes whose intensity
of focus was a cautionary tale of explosive ideas
at the expense of deep love directly delivered
and, in spite of myself, I liked her anyway
The force of her will was overwhelming
and seductive, ten minutes in – I loved her creativity,
twenty minutes in - I was floored by her focus, forty
minutes later I began to understand why all whom she
touched wanted desperately to know what she wanted
next and that even their wills, their intellects and skills
were extensions of hers, their presentations of dance
a spiritual sorcery beyond discipline and hard work
Several days later, I saw design presentations of an
almost impossibly difficult project by an extraordinary
team that included two gentlemen who had been students
of mine
No spiritual sorcery, no extension of iron will, but they
danced through the realms of urbanism and landscape,
engineering and aesthetics, their spirits so dedicated to
the needs of humankind that I almost needed to cry
And my dream for these men is that they serve until
they can’t and that all their creations just shimmer
and dance in the spiritual milieu of humanity and
place, in environment and community, extensions
of their skills, dedication and desire, and just
a little inspiration they might have once
received from an aging professor
who taught them long ago!
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