INSIDE magazine NDT

I was looking through the few things that I do owe and ran into a copy of Inside magazine and a photo book.  Both I would like to share on this blog as they both changed my life.  Inside magazine was started by myself and Ulrike Lytton, an ex Aussie colleague in my dancing days. We both were depressed and harboring terrible injuries and wanted to keep ourselves busy so we decided to launch “INSIDE” magazine.  A magazine to give an inside look into the company.  The company being the Netherlands Dance Theater.  It was basically for the people in the theater and we wanted to be involved with what was happening around us and not get too depressed by our injuries.  At that time Schedelhoekshaven was buzzing with three companies.  There was the main company which we were a part of, the second company was mostly downstairs with Gerald Tibbs and Hedda working on their magic as they had just come back from a successful tour in the Antilles and NDT 3 was at the beginning of its existence.  I remember there was a rare occasion where the worlds most amazing choreographers at the time found themselves in the building at the same time and wanted to have a picture of them as our centerfold.  Joris Jan-Bos was just beginning his career as well as the company photographer and I remember the session distinctly.  They were all five very chatty and somehow nervous but Joris managed to take this amazing picture of all 5 of them with their heads stacked up on top of each other.  The center fold was entitled:  Creme de la Creme! Kylian, Ek, Van Manen, Forsythe and Duato.Screen Shot 2018-03-01 at 3.27.43 AM.png

I think this accidental picture was used a lot in the end.  Uli and I worked day and night to try to put this magazine together.  We had the wonderful help of MA whiteside and her husband Arno.  We had Fiona Lummis draw some cartoons. She was very good at that.  We had an advice column, we had an injury page on how to treat specific injuries.  Since NDT 3 was the craze at the time we did specific interviews with the 4 starring dancers. Uli took 2 and I took the other two.  Now I remember, it was the very beginning of NDT 3 because Alida Chase was there. I interviewed her and Gerard Lemaitre while Uli took Niklas Ek and Sabine Kupferberg.  Martin Corri made a wonderul crossword for us.  I have included some parts of the magazine and if you want to see the whole thing I can post it as well.  There was one article that I did myself called “Bitch and Let Bitch”.  We had just gone through a season of “Kaguyahime” and there was a certain journalist named Christine Daft{I cannot remember if we made that name up or if that was her real name} but she wrote the most scathing things about us for our “Friends of NDT magazine” That one was official.  She was so taken aback by the fact that women sweat.  Really!!!!!!!  We dance the whole day, Baiaitchhchchchch!!!!!!  Anyway, I imitated her and did an article on the dancers of the company.

I read through most of the magazine the other day and honestly it was entertaining.  Simple but entertaining.  I hope that you like it.  It was all done on the cheap so no glossies.   Here are some excerpts:

Cover page:IMG_0182.png

the advice column:  Dear Ginette



Here is the article “Bitch and Let Bitch”


Lastly here is a wonderful drawing Fiona did of Olga Evreinoff. One of our guest teachers who was quite awesome in the studio.IMG_0178.png

The link below was not at all a part of our magazine. It is something I ran into online while searching for the proper spelling of Olga’s name. It is an official interview of her for the Royal Ballet.  I thought it would be funny to add it so that you can see how to actually do the thing right.  Uli and I were really trying to keep ourselves from going crazy.Olga Evreinoff Guest Teacher Royal Ballet .   

Unfortunately the magazine only lasted 2 issues.  In a way I have to say “Thank God” . What a hell of a lot of work.  Our injuries were no longer so we had time to get back to our proper jobs.  I miss you Uli.  Love Jean.

One more of Fiona’s cartoons.



A few strange thoughts came into my mind. Yesterday was International woman’s day and there were thousands and thousands of women protesting in the middle of the city and I’m sure, all of the world.{The Radical Reason Why March 8 Is International Women’s Day:}

We have had the Million Man March and we all know the importance of that movement{Economic and social factors of the Million Man March:}. I am sure you don’t want me to go on with a list of human beings rightfully asking for equality and their rights restored. We would be here forever.
The thought was this or rather the questions were:
Who are we protesting to?
Who is it that we want to direct our anger towards?
When is the Million Caucasian Man March?
I took a picture once of a beautiful wall in Soho New York. The wall was done by a great graffiti artists. I believe his name was Hektad.  I cannot remember most of the contents of the wall but do remember that it was in protest against the wrong doings of the powerful Donald Trumps of the world.  On the wall was a picture of DumbDumb Trump himself. I was a little surprised to see a picture of Marilyn Monroe as well.  I wondered why?  This was pre presidential elections.  A woman came out with allegations that the then campaigning Trump had touched her in the wrong way.  I mean only disrespect to our current president and to no one else. Why are we protesting? It seems like we protest and the day after our rights are diminished and new ways of keeping us down are invented by the DumbDumbs of this world.  HELP!!
I have to gather my thoughts on this. In no way do I mean to insult anyone or their race, religion, or whatever it is that hinders them because at the end of the day we all suffer from a hindrance that was once greatly feared by the powers that be.  A hindrance that was once a great power.   Some hide it better than others.
Getting back to that picture of Marilyn Monroe on the wall in soho. You would think America’s sweetheart/sex goddess would have been respected more but looking into her life she was so damaged by those who wanted a piece of her.  Those too rich to care about others, those too twisted to realize that if you damage a young child you damage their whole existence.{}
She was too early for her time. They used her and left her to suffer the consequences of the trauma. Apparently this happened since her childhood. the poor thing went back and forth from orphanages to foster parents and a mother suffering from mental illness. Back then There was no small relief from therapy. There was more confusion. Pills, which were not very heavily regulated as they are now, Lobotomies, suicide and a few more awful things to keep one running away.    Imagine, if that happened to Norma Jeanie Baker a beautiful and intelligent Caucasian woman.  If I remember from my therapist telling me:  The caucasian woman was at the top of the human hierarchy.{}.  What were the circumstances for someone at a much lower level?   Ask yourself.  Who are we protesting to or who do we want to listen to our voices and allow us an inch more of equality?  Ask yourself who is it that really needs the therapy? Who is it that needs to  talk and work through their issues so that they will stop using their pockets to inflict  pain, psychological or otherwise, upon others to make themselves feel falsely better?  Who????????
Incredible pictures of women protesting:


As everyone knows I seem to always run into what is sad and depressing.  These racist posts in the Raval and the Poble Sec pointing at illegal immigrants.  They are simple but all over

the place and very noticeable. I am disturbed as I am not sure why we have gone this way with our lives.  Trump as a joke president, Brexit, Nationalism beyond belief everywhere.  I thought we had entered the age of Aquarius where we embrace each other and continue.  Obviously the person/persons carrying on this graffiti crime is/are stupid.  It has been proven over and over again that immigrants help the economy.  I myself being a perpetual immigrant cannot see this hate anymore.  Where are the police?  Why isn’t this person arrested?  Funny they always seem to be around when I am walking the streets but to catch a person who has time to elaborately write hate is too hard for them.  I had to take a break from my anger and decided to do so by selfishly treating myself to Tank and the Banga’s song “Rollercoaster”.  I know that it is not a remedy but I did not want to think of the ugliness around me and went tripping on their rollercoaster.  Tank and the Bangas – “Rollercoasters” (Recorded Live for World Cafe)


February 15!

Flowers, Chocolate, Kisses, Love, Compliments and Art

should be an everyday thing!

Not just for some but for everyone.

Trinidad and tobago carnival costume
Bird angel costume from carnival in Trinidad and Tobago


The gallery pictures are mine as well as the kiss but the others I acquired off of the internet.  They are public domain pictures and someone sent me the carnival picture.


Observation 1

I am thinking a lot about my own immortality.  Something seems to be happening to me today. More so than any other day I have lived in the recent years. I am easily fused up and easily tearful. Thoughts of suicide are visitors today more so than regularly but they are not lengthy visitors. I have the feeling that I have to do something soon and get out of here as I am not living or remotely attempting to live a life. I am trying to make some money to make a move this summer. I am thinking the south of California but not sure if I will make it due to the hand to mouth situation plaguing me and the fact that I cannot find the resources. I am trying to keep my mind away from the bad thoughts.


That is not the tragedy that makes me but the hope that supports me.

It rained the whole day yesterday.  I took the opportunity to bike in the rain cause I love the thought of washing all the bad away.  I biked for more than an hour in the rain and I don’t think I ever lost my smile.  Of course realizing that I was soaking and shivering brought me back to reality and as is the custom: The streets seem to glisten today. The day after.  The air is damp but so fresh and biting that again my nipples stood at attention.  It is a beautiful thing to inhale deeply and exhale without any effort after the rain.  Things have been washed away.  A new page is being written with every breath.  Or so I thought.  

Today I took a long ride down memory lane.  It was not the plan but when do my plans ever go the way I want them to?  I went as far back as 2000 when I first moved here and looked at the reason why I moved here and could not identify with who I was back then.  I looked at my reason and saw such sadness in his eyes.  Sadness that I know I could probably change but cannot due to the events which we lived through in my summer of Hell.  I am not the same person and concerning him I will never be the same person.  I will always look at him with hurt and question why?  We exchanged pleasantries and a few minutes later I looked at myself and could not believe that this was the person who lived through the last 18 years.  It is not me.  I am hardened, bitter and strangely happy. 
“I am sorry. I believe that I am doing you a great big favor.  You no longer have to burden yourself with me.  Think of it: ‘No more burdens.’  Yea!!!!!”
Unfortunately to get back to the cocoon in which I hide/dwell in I had to go further down the lane.  The exes just kept coming out of the woodwork.  I wonder if we all think the same.{Long pause}  In a relationship or not, monogamous or not: ‘Am I the same person I was when I first met you?’
The last time I had an adventure of the “Significant Other’ kind  was a huge disaster.  One which in retrospect has prepared me for a lifetime of openness and self love.  It wasn’t anyone’s fault. I can’t take the blame although I am sure someone would like to give it to me.  It was the situation and the accumulation of all of those years of self hate that made the eruption that much more shall we say darker.  I do apologize wholeheartedly though to you for allowing our narcissism to overcome me.
How tiring was that?  The wet smiles of yesterday have turned into today’s dry tears.  I haven’t been down this lane in so long.  
I am very good and forcibly making myself forget something as if I never lived it. Coping mechanism, goes back to disassociation.  
Now that I have been down memory and love lanes does this mean that I can let go of the residue? I doubt that.  I was born a wayfarer and have very little luggage but oh have I got luggage!  If I was put on this earth not to venture into these adventures then as my philosophy teacher would say: “How boring is that?”  I will always have a love song in my heart, mind and in my throat aching to come out.  That is not the tragedy that makes me but the hope that supports me.  
reflected passing memories rain and songs in my head

Proud to be Haitian/American!

I am Jean Emile

A proud Haitian American.  Unique and special, smart and proud, unashamedly honest with myself and I will say it again “Proud” to be both a person of Haitian descent and a naturalized American.
I was so proud to have learned that my country was the first to successfully fight slavery and free themselves of the terrible chains forced upon them at the time.  This I might add every Haitian carries on his sleeve, in her heart, in their pockets and in the palm of their hands as it is our true force and raison D’etre. Although we were made to suffer extensively after that daring act by other and closer slave owning countries, a punishment we are still trying to make sense of.   We can still say one thing.  It was Toussaint L’ouverture who helped orchestrate the revolution and  “We are proud.” 
I am proud to have had the chance to go to Haiti in ’99 and remembered the smell which had haunted me all through my life.  A beautiful smell of coconuts, sea, sun, fish, and rice and beans.        
 I am proud to be the son of one, Antal Murat a great musician who played for the “Jazz des Jeunes” for many many years.
I am a proud son of one Gisele Emile, a woman who mothered 6 children by herself working hellish hours with no time to run to Madison Ave. high end shops and lunch, she worked tirelessly all her life sometimes through the night to keep us alive.
I am the proud country man of a nation who because of the punishment given to it for having been the first country to end slavery it is the poorest country in the Americas with garbage as high as mountains on streets and an art gallery on every corner. Art galleries which are sometimes made of straw.  It goes to show the endurance that we have and The hope.  Art will lead our way.
 I am the proud ancestor of countrymen who outsmarted their slave owners by making them think that they were worshipping their gods when in reality they found new ways to worship their previous African deities, thus preserving the old and inventing something new.
I have to say it, I don’t. Know my country that well but signs of laughter hope love and endurance were the symbols which showed in my fellow countrymen when I last saw them in the island of Hispaniola.  These the people who will not be stepped upon, who will dance and laugh it off, who are very devout, who are extremely artistic and helped pioneer and concrete a style art already started by the Europeans called “Naive Art”
A people who can live on 1 dollar a day, and still look good. 
A people who make me laugh when they say “uh oh!!” 
A people whose language is entirely their own and not adopted from the motherland.  
Creole:  A language spoken in Haiti; developed first as a creole based on French and several West African languages.
A people who can make a beautiful meal out of two potatoes.  
The proud manufacturers of Barbancourt Rhum and Djon, Djon.  
A people who helplessly watched themselves ethnically cleansed by their neighbor and manage to keep their spirits and their heads up. 
A country, who despite having had a rich fauna and flora is raped of it by the punishment of their mental enslavers.   
I am Jean Emile. Proud to have had an ingrown musical background and intelligent enough to have excelled in school
I was talented enough to land in the most amazing dance company in the world.  The only Haitian to have danced with the Netherlands Dance Theater.  You know when I really felt proud.  It was when Prins Klaus,  Queen Beatrix’s then husband came on stage after a performance with the queen other Juliana to congratulate the company and the Prince was so excited to tell me of his wonderful days in Jacmel.  Somewhere in my Haiti I knew nothing about but learned from royalty whose eyes beamed when they learned that a kindred spirit was in the vicinity and bowed down to talk to me about the simplicity and beauty of his memories.   The only thing I learned  from inappropriate and cocky big mouths with a bad Lucille Ball wig is fear and self hatred because that is how this person was unfortunately brought up.  All the money in your supposed accounts and the penthouses cannot hide the fact that I have much more class than you.
I am proud to still be in the theater and feed it and this all due to my unique Haitian and American experiences.  I am Hispanic.  From the Island of Hispaniola, Haitian from the country of Haiti, an American from the USA and a New Yorker from galleries in Haiti 1art galleries in Haiti 3art galleries in Haiti


Trump’s Haiti Slap Came On Eve Of Earthquake Anniversary

More than 1.3 million people in the impoverished nation Trump denigrated don’t have reliable access to enough food.

Screen Shot 2018-01-12 at 10.28.23 PM

Anderson Cooper: People of Haiti have withstood more than our President ever has


The Dance Competition

I am in Catania Sicily as a juror in a dance competition where young dancers aspire to be better than they are and parents lose a lot of money.  Today has been awful.  I unfortunately had a run in with another juror.  A young dancer started his variation and immediately JE Elke dancing sunhe gave him his score and put his pen down.  Later on we argued over who should get the prize and I brought up that young dancer and this particular juror went on about how arrogant the young man was.  OK, in my day I was seen as arrogant.  If it were not for Penny Frank I probably would not have been writing this as she saved me from an audition were I acted arrogantly.  That is not the point.  This young man’s mind is not as developed as ours due to our maturity.  Is it not our job to point out his apparent arrogance and how negative that might come out rather than punish him for something he might not even know about.  I don’t know.  This particular juror has a full time job.  I don’t.  Maybe he is right.  I do know one thing.  I would not trust my child with him if I were a parent.  He apparently directs a big school in the country at a theater which put on a production of Don Quixote a few months ago with a huge star from Russia and apparently 6 people in the corps.  They did not have enough to pay the corps due to the amount they had to pay the star.  So whose judgement am I to listen to?  Getting back to this young man, I will have a talk with him tomorrow and let him know that his attitude is seemingly arrogant and that could cause him a lot of work due to certain jurors like the one I spoke of earlier but I don’t know people.  Again, he has a full time job.  I don’t, so I need to think this out.


Finally closing a steel door with squeaks and anything else painstaking that  you can imagine!

Add these to the list of perks of being a person  of color.   Dirty, druggy, naked and smelly beggars don’t bother you and rest  assured once you’ve entered a bus and find yourself to be the first one sitting. You are going to be riding in comfort because those two seats will be yours.

2 very strange begging incidents in New York city subway system. A woman walks in and doesn’t ask for food or money but asks for a sanitary napkin.  You saw the whole car look up simultaneously as if choreographed and the choreography extended to thought as I was sure we were all thinking the same thing:  ‘Is she for real?  What have we come to that someone will beg for a sanitary napkin?’. One girl walked up to this particular beggar and said discreetly:  ‘Would a tampon do’. An agreement was made and the pass was successful without any shame from either side.

A few minutes later as if a true comedy was developing before our eyes a young man walks in. He was neither dirty nor rank. He very eloquently explained to us, the audience, the reasons why he did not need to beg for money because as he put it. He could go to MacDonald’s and stand outside long enough and with persistent begging get a happy meal and drinks.   He did not need to beg for money for shelter tonight because the city had provided him with shelter. He was simply out there to get enough money to get a bag of weed.  “I am begging to get high for Xmas so who is going to help me out?”.  

That one made everyone laugh.  To be honest he was successful. Was it the honesty or the irony?

How many times has you alter ego come out to tell you to ‘close the door’ an you refuse to.  One day you find that it is closed for you.