Sachiyo Ito’s Memoir: Chapter 11

This year renowned dancer, dance educator, and choreographer Sachiyo Ito has been serializing her memoir on JapanCulture•NYC with monthly installments, each chapter revealing a different aspect of her early life in Tokyo and career in New York City.

Ito offers of a profound exploration of the experience of dedicating herself to traditional Japanese dance at an early age, arriving in New York City during the tumultuous ‘70s, and making a successful career in the arts. Each chapter offers a glimpse into the complexities that shaped her journey. It is a literary examination of not only Ito Sensei’s life, but of how New York City’s culture evolved over the decades and what sacrifices one must make to achieve a thriving career in the arts.

The memoir is an invitation to delve into the layers of a creative life and career that has spanned more than 50 years. As a work in progress, it is also an invitation for you to offer your feedback. Your insights will contribute to the evolution of this extraordinary work.

To read all the chapters, please click here. For more information about Sachiyo Ito, please visit her website, dancejapan.com.

Poetry in Motion for the Time of Contemplation

Please Call Me by My True Names

In my memory, the bright morning sunlight during the walking meditation along the cliff over the Pacific Ocean was sublimely beautiful. In my mind’s eye, I look up at Rev. Hanh’s face as we walk up the hill, the brilliant sun shining behind him. Nowadays, this image returns to me on my morning walks with Joy, my dog. I must say it was the stroke of luck of a lifetime that I was able to meet Thich Nhat Hanh—the Zen monk, poet, and peace activist recommended for a Nobel Peace Prize by Martin Luther King Jr. in 1967—and get to know his teachings.  

My first retreat with Thich Nhat Hanh and his sangha was in 1990 at the University of California at Santa Barbara. Although I am not a Buddhist, his teachings and poems have greatly influenced my work. It was he who inspired me to begin choreographing dances to poetry, which I began to do from then on. It was at this retreat that I also met Sister Chan Khong, a longtime associate of Rev. Hanh’s.  She was kind enough to set aside time to meet with me so that I could show her the dances I choreographed and gain approval to show them publicly. Happily, this permission was granted. 

I presented dances based on Rev. Hanh’s poems for the first time at my concert Dedicated to World Peace in 1991 at the Clark Studio Theater at Lincoln Center.

The main poem I choreographed for the concert was Please Call Me by My True Names, which appeals to the interconnectedness of all beings, both sentient and insentient. I titled my dance, though, An Invitation to Bell. The title may sound strange, but my intention was to ring the bell in a gentle manner, rather than by striking it, and to invite people to listen to the sound of the bell. The bell would signal the start of an interactive walking meditation, a time for us to pause and focus on breathing.

Through audience participation in the walking meditation, I hoped that Thich Nhat Hanh's call for humanism was heard and felt. I titled the concert Dedicated to the World Peace to reflect Hanh’s message calling for compassion, reconciliation, and inner harmony and held it on the weekend celebrating Martin Luther King Jr., who supported Hanh’s work.

Although the theme of the concert was sweeping and grand, one small, very human moment stands out to me. The Clark Studio Theater was small with a capacity of 100, but well equipped with lights and a high ceiling, which made set designer Bob Mitchell’s magical ball descending onto my hand possible in the piece “Moon Child.”  For the stage set of Please Call Me by My True Names, I had to bring bamboo sticks, more than eight feet long, that would hold scrims across the stage horizontally and vertically. It was quite a trip to carry them from the shop to the theater. Somehow, I got them into the subway train!

Looking back on it now, I think that world peace was too big a subject for only a minor dancer to advocate for.   

Spoken Poetry

Then I had the good fortune to meet Kim Rosen, who performs spoken word poetry, and Jami Sieber, a cellist, and collaborate with them for the 15th Anniversary Concert of Salon Series in 2013. I met them at one of the retreats they were offering, and a few years later I invited them to the concert. Luckily, they were able to combine an East Coast visit with their tour schedule and were able to participate.    

I was used to poems, when spoken aloud, being referred to as “recitations.”  Kim did not call her work “recited,” but rather “spoken” – “spoken poetry.”  She would memorize poems and speak in a very moving manner, powerful enough to send us listeners into tears. With Jami’s cello providing a beautiful accompaniment, Kim’s speaking was deeply touching. Together, they offer workshops for healing around the country. 

Thereafter, I presented a series of choreographies to recited or spoken poems.

In 2010 I presented “Poetry in Motion” at Joyce Soho, based on poetry including not only Hanh, but those of others as well: Neruda, Mary Oliver, Rainer Maria Rilke, and Rumi. These dances were accompanied by percussionists Yukio Tsuji and Egil Rostad. Singers Beth Griffith and Elizabeth Knauer recited the poems, including my favorite Chieko-sho, which you may remember from previous chapters. The poem Only Breath by Rumi inspired me for its cross-cultural work where the human spirit gathers as one. Different ethnic dance forms represented cultures across the world, including Indian, Russian, ballet, and contemporary dance.  To represent Japan, I chose a karate master, Tokumitsu Shibata, who impressed both artists and the audience as he combined karate with my choreographed movements so well that it was simply amazing. The concert was one of the most exciting collaborations of my career.

Photo by Reiko Kawashima

Photo by Reiko Kawashima

Renku and Dance

Inspired by the teaching and poetry of Rev. Hanh, I began a work combining haiku, walking meditation, and dance. Walking meditation requires quieting and focusing the mind, which also helps in both the composition of haiku and the creation of dance. I began presenting this as a workshop at spiritual retreats, such as Dai Bosatsu Zendo.

The most memorable venue where I gave this workshop was the Morikami Museum and Japanese Gardens in Florida, where I had been previously invited to perform Japanese dance at local art galleries as well as Delray College.

Ito danced to a haiku written by suburban Delray Beach resident Douglas Davy.
’She was very deliberate,’ he said. ‘You could watch a performance, but it’s taking something written and interpreting it . . . It was extraordinary.’
— Quote- Michelle Mundy, The Palm Beach Post, March 8, 2002 Source

By my third visit to the Museum in 2002, the facility had been beautifully renovated, including the addition of a Japanese garden. My program was titled “Walking Meditation, Poetry, and Dance.” I conducted the walking meditation for participants in the auditorium, then continuing into the outdoors and around the garden; this stroll would serve as the basis for the haiku composed later. Upon returning to the theater in the museum, I improvised dances to the haiku stanzas presented by the audience. The pine trees in the Japanese garden were just as magnificent as those we see in Japan and proved to be very inspiring for the composition of haiku. The breeze through the pines was so lovely that it brought to mind the line, “Rustles of the wind, or whispers of the pines…” from the Noh play Matsukaze (Pine Wind).

In 2003, the program An Evening of Renku and Dance, held at Japan Society in collaboration with the Northwest Conference of Haiku Society of America, was the beginning of my collaboration with Haiku Society of America. Six poets, along with three musicians and I, were on stage, ready to improvise on whatever haiku the poets might compose. We concluded the program with a haiku from a member of the audience. It was a humorous one, written by a lady from India, about a bug in the head! And so, my dance was humorous as well. After the performance, she gave me a beautiful red silk Indian scarf, a gift I cherished for many years. I was happy and perhaps a little relieved as the program ended with a lot of smiles.

The collaboration with Haiku Society of America did not end at the Japan Society concert in 2003, but continued through 2023 in my Salon Series, led by Penny Harter, John Stevenson, and the late William Higginson.

To collaborate with me on linking renku and dances requires the ability to write haiku on the spur of the moment while watching my dance. For this improvisation of dance and stanzas, spontaneity is the essence of the endeavor, rather than contemplation. It requires a genius to write a stanza on the spot, making a quick decision on the choice of words upon observation of the dance. I must bow to all three poets, who so effortlessly showcased this skill. Bill was a prolific writer, instrumental in introducing haiku to the Western world, while his wife, Penny, was more than a haiku poet. Although their penmanship is unbelievably prestigious, they were incredibly kind and generous in supporting my work and collaborating with me on Renku and Dance in my Salon Series. As for John, he has been with me all these years, a partner in words and footsteps. My gratitude to him and my respect to his haiku and scholarship as a writer, thinker, and poet is more than I can express. His haiku is often humorous, yet it has a deep, humane touch. His essay in my Salon program on the theme of resonancewas incredibly insightful:

“There is no meaning to light without darkness, no meaning to darkness without light. Conflict, however, is not the only way of looking at these mutually dependent aspects of reality. A great deal of their interaction is characterized by harmony and resonance.” 

One of my favorite haiku by John, chosen from among far too many, is this:

A deep gorge...
Some of the silence 
is me

— John Stevenson
Geppo, July/August 1996

John would gather his friends from the Haiku Society of America for my programs and come down from Ithaca, where he lives, by train for the day to join the program. Hence, our Renku and Dance were held several times across the decades of the Salon Series and featured in the Salon Series finale as well. I was so pleased that John could join us for the final program. 

Renku and Dance inspired the workshop Dance and Poetry of Japan, held at senior centers in Chelsea and the West Village in New York. Participated in by seniors who love poetry or Japanese arts and culture, the program has been repeated for the past four years. The seniors are great composers of haiku, and they bravely answer the challenge to make Japanese dances based on haiku and renku. Together, we share our life stories, inspired by our poetry composing process and dancing. We converse about our histories, the countries we come from, and through the poetry we create, we find ties that connect us across ethnicity and culture, rather than boundaries that separate us. Together, we come up with new dances to illustrate our poems. Watching the seniors learn new forms of dance is simply amazing. I call them seniors, but their interest and curiosity keep them young at heart, which is a valuable lesson for us all. The ephemeral quality that is shared by poetry and dance, particularly Japanese dance with its subtle evocativeness and suggestiveness, gives us a vast possibility of expression, of ways to tell the stories of our lives. It is something I am thankful to have discovered in my life.

Listening to Sand  

pouring sand
from one palm to the other— she listens
foam slips
from a clam shell, sand draining with it
carried out above
the sea, sand drops from a gull's cry
at the sea's edge her feet slap the sand-breaking waves
listening to sand she remembers night wind—
dune grasses yielding

— Penny Harter for Sachiyo Ito, written during her dance to Chieko: The Elements (Chieko: Genso)
Copyright © 2008 Penny Harter

 Chieko Genso  —  Photo by Ray Smith


The posting of this chapter to JapanCulture-NYC.com was paid for by Sachiyo Ito and reprinted here with her permission. Susan Miyagi McCormac of JapanCultureNYC, LLC edited this chapter for grammatical purposes only and did not write or fact-check any information. For more information about Sachiyo Ito and Company, please visit dancejapan.com. ©Sachiyo Ito. All rights reserved.


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Sachiyo Ito’s Memoir: Chapter 12

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SACHIYO ITO’S MEMOIR: CHAPTER 10