A Curtsy for Clytie

I remember being in class at the studio, she always wore a black skirt either shorter in front or tucked up so we could see her leg placement. On the wall were three black boxes that displayed wood human figures that could move at all joints, and they were set in ballet poses. As we moved across the floor, many times we went from corner to corner, and for spotting there was some kind of flower or something in the corners.

I guess Clytie saw my talent for choreography because I choreographed several dances that were performed at the annual recital. (Grandma’s Featherbed and Scarborough Fair come to mind) When I was in college, she asked me to set a piece, “Homestead,” on her dancers. A piece I had done with the Orchesis group at college. She was encouraging.

I remember working with her one-on-one for performances. Once in high school she choreographed the “Shadow Dance” solo piece where I danced with my shadow. I did this for a presentation she was doing for a church program. I also did a short solo at recital while she was talking, doing a dance demonstration. That was where the great black and white picture of me jumping was taken. I appreciated her trying to teach the arts to the audience and community then, and I appreciate it more now. When I was at college at Weber State, she helped me and my partner choreograph a duet called “Take Me to Sea,” which we did on two programs for the music department with live music. I remember when we did something that was exactly as she thought it needed to be, she would excitedly say, “Yes, yes!” I loved that they brought that up at her funeral. She was passionate.

When I taught creative dance at her studio, the closet had lots of wonderful props for the kids to dance with. One time I substituted for a class and used a new book I found called; Giraffes Can’t Dance. Afterward I met Clytie in the parking lot behind the studio and read the delightful book to her. The next time I taught, I saw that book on the shelf there. She listened.

My husband was CEO of his company, and for several years we had the leadership team Christmas party at my house. I always had some kind of entertainment, and I thought how much fun it would be to have the doll from Nutcracker carried in and dance for us. I reached out to Clytie, and she helped it happen, she said she would only do that for me. (Ha,ha) She was generous.

One special anniversary year for the studio, they reached out and asked me to do “Grandma’s Feather Bed,” again for the recital. The funny thing was I was working with like a ten/eleven-year-old class, when this was originally choreographed for our high school modern class. The kids kept saying it was “the hardest dance they had ever done!” But I continued and they did a great job with mostly the same choreography. (I did add a pillow fight at the end) I love that she included me.

Maybe twice in the last fifteen years, I had nice long visits with her, once on my porch, and another time in her driveway, when I was dropping off some of my Peter Pan props to see if she could use them for recital. I think she told my dad that she loved to talk to me, because I “got it,” I think that meant understood the creative process. But also, both of us were very concerned about the “details” of a production. How the details could take something good to great. She taught by example.

This February I heard from my sister that Clytie was on hospice or at least had a caregiver staying with her. I called Leslie to see if I could come visit, and she said that would be great, and so I did. How glad I am that I listened to that prompting. We had another great visit, she knew who I was, and I also met her visiting goldfish. Most importantly I got the opportunity to thank her for her impact on my life. I told her how glad I was for the chance to choreograph for recitals, etc. And for her unwavering support over the years. I even gave her a copy of my book. I never thought she would even open it, but a few days later, Leslie texted me and said, “Mom read part of your book today and said it was really good.”

That in a nutshell was Clytie, she didn’t have to read it, or say anything, but she did, and she said something nice that lifted me up. She had a talent for lifting people up, and for seeing their potential. I’m glad I was one she lifted, and I hope I have helped to lift others.

Au revoir Clytie and Thank you!!