When I am ninety-seven

When I am ninety-seven, I’ll paint with brush unfurled

       Hey, Grandma Moses did it –I guess she showed the world

And so did Gordon Hinkley, he led ‘till ninety-seven

         With love and warmth and humor –he’s now

                           in Mormon heaven.

And look at good Pope Leo, ninety-two and frail

        Labored with such brilliance, determined not to fail

Thanks to daddy’s genes, my skin will always shine,

       be supple and as smooth as when I was twenty-nine

my lips will always shimmer, my hair a softened red

       my life will not be dative but creative instead

I’ll read His Word and talk each moment to my Lord,

       Send out comfort letters – you’ll never find me bored.

I’ll bake some gorgeous cakes, writes essays, songs and poems,

       Coach brilliant ballerinas, then on the stage I’ll “show ‘em”

When I get up at sunrise, I’ll photograph a squirrel

       A rabbit or a deer – each morning’s like a jewel…ah yes,

One day I’ll take that step –and up to heaven fly

       But just remember – you and I will never die

I’ll bake some gorgeous cakes,  write tons of lovely poems

                       Coach future ballerinas,

  

Then on heaven’s stage I’ll “show ‘em.”

The amazing U.S Military Academy at West Point

The first time I laid eyes on the U.S Military Academy at West Point I was fourteen years old and traveling by train to New York City to study for the summer. The many famous buildings were across the Hudson and barely seen in the distance, however I knew of their history and prestige, and wondered if I would ever meet anyone from that great Military Academy.  Sometimes our wildest dreams do come true.

The beauty of New York State is nowhere more evident than the Hudson Valley where the Adirondacks  sculpture the sky across striking landscapes. It is here, nestled among hovering mountains that Gen. George Washington first recognized that this area was strategically situated for the Revolutionary Army in fighting the British. Later, a genius Polish engineer, Thaddeus Kosciuszko transformed the highland wilderness into a bastion deterring British invasion. His beautiful statue is situated at Trophy Point for all to admire. He saved many a life of our American soldiers.

The two hundred year old West Point Military Academy displays statues, paintings and memorabilia of past and present presidents, generals, diplomats, leaders of industry and in the present view, the young men and women in gray -the world leaders of tomorrow.

 Joseph, my youngest son had his eye on a scholarship to West Point, (worth a quarter of a million dollars) and worked doggedly to follow every criteria necessary to enter.  Many at West Seneca West Senior High were ultimately disappointed since they could not believe that this leading-role singer-dancer-actor did not head for Broadway. He recognized his true calling however and was never deterred. With a recommendation from Rep. Jack Quinn, Joe headed for the “Point” with his dad and fell head over heels in love with the place.  After “basic”, bald head and all, I nearly “flew” to this magical place to see the second of my two uniformed sons (Mark was already a major in the Army stationed at Fort Hood) and was taken on the introductory tour meant for mothers only.

Wearing heels is definitely the worst decision one can make when climbing hills, walking “just a little further” (like three miles in all), and trying to carry a load of video and still cameras.  To say I was overwhelmed would be putting it mildly. The place is gorgeous, the history is phenomenal and the overly polite cadets are a wonder in themselves, (yes ma’am, no ma’am, at your service ma’am) In the center of the grounds stands MacArthur, Eisenhower, Grant, Lee, and others. You cannot help but fall into the arms of the courage, bravery, genius, distinction  of these men as you sense the spirit of this revered ground, 

West Point’s museum is another unexpected treasure.  An actual section of the Berlin wall á-là Reagan’s doing) greets all visitors in the front entrance.  Along with army gear and souvenirs were replicas of the rooms where they stayed and videos of the training held there. 

Only six hours by car, this well-known American institute which trains our great leaders of tomorrow is well worth a weekend visit.  Staying at the elegant Thayer Hotel (named after Colonel Thayer, father of the Military academy) is a treat in itself.  While visiting the Point, one must, without question obtain tickets for one of the Broadway shows or concerts held at the fabulous  Eisenhower theater.  The entrance hall is a marvel of uniquely designed shields from each year.

 The amazing West Point Chapel holds the largest organ in the world with 23,000 individual pipes.  Huge stained glass windows flank the walls reflecting breathtaking beauty. Of angelic, iridescent  beams.

At West Point, you are immersed in fascinating history and traditions that sets it apart from any other institution. Visitors will see and hear the stirring marching bands in perfect formation and step,  marvel at the meticulous uniforms, surreal buildings,  stunning chapels, nostalgic graves from the revolutionary war, the immense stadium  where weekly games are held   ( I saw Army beat Navy - YES!) and unbelievable works of art on the grounds. Inside every building History truly comes alive, and yes, George Washington really DID sleep here!

(at left) Pinning Joseph 

Healing Hearts- the true purpose of dance

 Deanna De Mike Van Pyrz performing in a local nursing home

     The Little boy was the only son of a famous Buffalo Sabres star. He lay there,a prisoner in a  bed he would never leave.  Ethan’s bright red hair was a sharp contrast to his alabaster white skin and as he reached out to me, with emaciated arms, I sang a Mary Poppins song.  He was fascinated and continued to hold my quivering hand for the longest  moment.

     In a community room, again at Children’s Hospital, I sang and danced for a child with barely enough skin to cover her delicate bones. She was only ten but had the appearance of a ninety year old. She smiled and swayed n time to my “clown” song.

The  company dancers of the Royale Dance Theatre have performed at schools,  hospitals, churches, festivals, Philharmonic concerts, small and large theaters seminaries and even prisons, each time bringing the  “joy of the Lord” through  dance, drama, music and art.   There were many times when audiences approached the dancers following the show in tears, claiming  “You have touched my heart in a way that no one ever has.”

     I remember one woman crying for an hour straight after a drama of a mother who had at first been cruel and then with a change of heart, repented at the mistreatment of her beloved daughter.  My friend Kim (not her real name)  was that daughter who suffered at the hands of a tyrannical parent but now experienced a healing touch  through drama .   Kim had been rejected all her life, and even as a five year old, “farmed-out” for years by her parents.  (she was a sickly child in a  family of  twelve.)  The “healing hearts” of the Company of dancers gave her, at thirty-nine, the first birthday party she ever had.  She later went on to help remodel the entire school building where the school and company studied and rehearsed.  

                Why would a ballet company which performed the classics such a Swan Lake, Giselle, Coppelia,  begin to  use dance and drama as a ministry?  It all began with a question to  the Lord when challenged by the theatrical world in the presentation of highly immoral productions.,  What good is dance I asked, and can it be used for God’s glory? The answer came from a sermon by a minister at an evangelical church one Sunday.  “All things were created by God for His Glory.” john 1:1.  That was it!  Then God, I assumed, who was the creator of the arts, meant that these very arts should be used for His glory—without question!

                My first attempt at ministry was a production of The Psalms, presented at Orchard Park High school with the new Christian music being published for both Catholic and protestant charismatics.  It was presented both on channel 2 TV and later at Our Lady of Victory Basilica.  The dancers looked like the angels surrounding the altar.  It was glorious.  The youngest members performed in a piece called Let the Children Come.  Of course it was welcomed by some, again with tears in their eyes, but legalist minds highly objected!  Christian dance is and always will be highly controversial.  “ It belongs to the world and has no part on stage “ critics will say, however, they are “dead wrong”, as the Royale has proved over and over again. 

                I realized that our teen dancers, although well-trained, needed to reach out to the community in every way possible. With a message of hope, bringing joy through dance and inspiring music.  A part-time secretary called every nursing home within one hundred miles and booked us into dozens, every weekend for years.  At that time, only the students were performing, but one Sunday, no one could make it to the Hamburg-Eden home.  There would be at least fifty wheel chair patients sitting in a circle waiting for the only respite of entertainment in their mundane lives.  I thought, “I dance with and for the children in my studio and know all the repertory so I’ll go myself.”  Triple dressed with three layered costumes topped with a clown suit and loaded with tapes and tape recorder, I danced, sang, spun wheel chairs, held hands and hugged shoulders of the sweetest men and women I ever met.  It was a blast!  I never had so much fun and absolute joy in my life, (other than rollicking with my own children on the living room floor).  From then on, you couldn’t stop me.  Along with nursing homes, there were hospitals and prisons.  This ministry grew to the main stage itself when challenged with the necessity of large productions at local high schools which we did annually.  “What do I do now” I asked myself.  “Where is the ministry in major ballet, drama or musical productions?”  The search was on for our own major work or works as it turned out. 

                When finishing o huge Artpark presentation by our company of six major classic ballets,, I asked my son Mark for an idea to create our own original production.  “Mom”, he said, “everyone loves a story.”  After a two year search, I came up with a real challenge for the ballet world—a “better than Nutcracker type of Christmas offering.  Voila, the Snow Queen was born.  First produced at Christ the King Seminary, then embellished at Orchard Park High School, it went on to six performances at Shea’s Buffalo and finally to the Grand Palace in Branson Missouri.  Snow Queen although a fairy tale based on the Hans Christian Andersen story, is a heart-warming and inspiring dance-drama with a truly Christian theme as is Match Girl, Americana  and all other productions of the Royale. 

These productions and performances,  designed for school children. families, seniors and the general public  are both entertaining and inspiring, elaborating the blessings of God and the hope that is in Him alone.

                The Lord has blessed the Royale with two thousand stunning original costumes,  and given us inspiration for coordinating music, scripts, and tech theater.  My son John  has developed the visual which are projected as backdrops  to eliminate the need for expensive sets. And can easily be used for theaters which cannot raise or lower scenery. 

                Another way the Royale reaches out is in its donations to organizations to help feed, clothe and educate as well as heal the poor. Our motto is “Children helping children through the arts.”  The list includes St. Jude’s, Feed the Poor, Water for Life, Smile Train, World Vision, Covenant House, Operation Blessing, and others.

                There are still critics who say that dance has no place in Christian ministry or that we have no right to “push our philosophy” on an audience, I will boldly proclaim otherwise.  Dance, drama, music and art should be used for God’s glory since this is the purpose if its creation,

                I shall never forget the incident at the Erie county Home in Alden when a fifty-two year old paralyzed victim of a car accident sitting in a wheel chair, almost leaped from her seat and nearly exploded with exultation when hearing and seeing the first moments of the Halleluiah Chorus from Handel’s Messiah.  She thanked me profusely afterwards for performing her most favorite piece in the world.  Again, I met with grateful tears, a woman who heart was healed through the ministry of the Royale dance Theater

Janet Lanou, a French nun who changed my life

           Her name was Janet Lanou and although a nun, was the classiest woman walking the halls of Nardin Academy.  Lanou was Parisian and probably from a wealthy family as evident from her designer clothes, elegant shoes and elite manner.  The Daughters if the Immaculate Heart of Mary were originally a secret society bred during the French Revolution who were permitted to wear ordinary clothes in order to minister to the sick and dying with out being  “guillotined” for their beliefs. 

    Janet Lanou stood out from the Irish nuns like an escargot in a dish of Irish stew, and so did her teaching techniques.  The ladies at Nardin were the holiest of saints, and outstanding teachers, but Janet Lanou was the epitome of the learned college professor leading the students in a course destined for a PHD.  She was thorough, highly detailed, and above all, passionate in her portrayal of Jesus Christ in the first year religion class, - one of the many elements that completely changed my life. 

            The first words I ever heard from this French sister were “Assayez-vous” as she motioned us to sit down and then “Levez-vous” miming us to rise where we were taught the “Ave” in French, “Je vous salue Marie” which I remember to this day. 

            Ah to be French, to be elegant,  to know what Paris is like,  to be as accomplished as this beautiful lady (and  amazingly brilliant) was the reason I have emulated this holy “goddess” my entire life.  Years later,  when I heard she had left the order and was working as a counselor in a Veteran’s Hospital in New York, I called to say “hello”  I barely rolled one word out of my mouth before she cut in with “I know who you are Bernadine (how she remembered my voice from thousands of former students I’ll never know). 

            The first step in becoming a “Lanou” clone was in studying French—to a degree where I could speak it fluently (not just grammar please). I then planned a visit to this magical place, which became a lifelong desire.  I continued to study French my entire life, reading the French bible everyday, joining the Alliance Française and taking class at Canisius  college.  It was an endless obsession.  I think I even prayed to Janet Lanou (she must be in heaven right now) to help. My production of “Paris 1920”  and the research involved with authentic people and places involved in that era even accelerated my ardent desire, however, work, family, finances have a way of holding up our dreams, -yet they never seem to go away.  My children were actually sick of my repeated “Someday I’m going to Paris” wish and when able, one of my children made it happen.

            My son Mark, a world-traveler via the US Army (taught in many countries throughout the world) , gave me a ticket to that “City of Light”. “Mom” he said in a phone call, “You always said you wanted to go to Paris so set the date, Your ticket is paid for.”

            “Janet Lanou, here I come” I thought and actually ‘floated’ for days before that big gray bird took me away.  Spending endless hours on the internet to find the right arrondissement , hotel, memorizing streets, maps, places of interest only accelerated my anticipation.

            With maps, cameras and French beret in hand, I landed at De Gaulle where I headed for the first bus to the Eiffel tower.  Heavy suitcases and an unknown hotel would not deter the first thing I wanted to see. -Big mistake—trudging along the streets and up long stairways loaded with souvenirs was not easy. The  first time I got into trouble was illegally filming from the elevator at the Eiffel, but by then I already had shot most of  details of this architectural  genius to show my artist son John, but later, I was really in trouble with a capital “T”  I was  lost in a myriad of tentacles in the metro with signs going everywhere, (I hadn’t located my hotel yet), and believe me if I couldn’t speak French, I would be there to this day trying to locate Rue Magenta”.  Later, in visiting the Louvre,  a group of American visitors asked if they could take my picture, (thinking I was a real Parisian).  In the very best accent I could muster, I replied, “ ah mai out,Certainement”! ( I shall always wear a  beret in Paris).

            The usual “visitor’ highlights were more than one could handle on a plate of merely six days, but the “frosting” on the cake was an unexpected treat.  “Saint” Janet Lanou must have put in a special word for me for I noticed on the hotel bulletin that the last night of my stay was the same evening of the opening of a two year collaboration of artists from all over Europe to produce “Les Enfants du Paradis”, a ballet/drama of the remake of the famous street mime movie of the thirties.  Sitting in  a red-velvet chair close to the stage in a setting worthy of heaven itself, (cherubs, pilasters, marble walls and floors, and an enormous Marc Chagall painting on the ceiling, I bathed in the most glorious production of live theater I have ever experienced.  It was here all the great artists of Europe performed—If walls could speak,I would have  heard Anna Pavlova telling Nijinsky  he was a hot-headed Russian!

            I “walked” with Janet Lanou across the bridges of the Seine, down the entire Champs Élysées,  Through the hall of mirrors at Versailles,  the palaces and museums, the enormous churches and parks., and reveled in it all, but thanks to the influence on on Janet Lanou, a teacher and human being of great inspiration, I shared the heart of the people where she came from; people whose “quest for freedom” of the human spirit led to the event which changed the world, the French Revolution. It was there that the spirit of the Daughters of Mary  was born to minster to downtrodden men and women.  The Free spirit of the French changed the world.  The spirit of Janet Lanou changed my life.