By Letty Bassart

As salutatorian of my graduating high school class, I was charged with giving a speech.  A week prior to graduation, my English teacher pulled me aside, whispered into my ear and placed a speech he had written for me in my pocket.  I don’t remember what he said, but I am certain it was something about helping me out.  Over the years, I have recognized that his intentions must have been quite good.  At the time, I could not fathom how it was possible for the very person who was preaching confidence to undermine my ability in such a profound way.  It was devastating.  I, of course said nothing, and went on to pen my own speech.  It began with a Nadine Gordimer quote, “Why am I ridiculously timid before such people while critical of their limitations?”

Letty Bassart and Ilana Reynolds during rehearsal for Flower Chronicles

In retrospect I realize this man had no reason to believe in me.  I had spent my entire time at the school in virtual silence.  Why would he or anyone else for that matter have faith in me?  Quite understandably, most people operate on a doubting Thomas premise.  Expressions like ‘Seeing is believing’ are probably pervasive with good reason.

Then there are the exceptions, the handful of remarkable people who come into our lives with the capacity to believe in a vision they have not experienced.  Intuition is their compass.  I was lucky enough, blessed, if you will, to come across such a person, Ilana Reynolds.  When I invited her to be a part of the Flower Chronicles, my first full-length choreographic work, she simply said, “I would love to.” No work samples or press were needed.  She came into the studio, sometimes at 7 a.m., with enthusiasm, openness, and unparalleled generosity.  And so the journey began.

The process of creating the Flower Chronicles, like many worthwhile expeditions, was arduous and magical.

After countless rejections, the piece finally took the stage.  Here another moment of abundance.  On Friday, June 15, an audience of over 70 people, friends, colleagues, and loved ones braved the pouring rain to see us perform on opening night.

It is now Saturday morning.  All words seem superfluous; there are so many flowers in my studio apartment that I have had to convert all my coffee mugs, jars, and glasses into vases.

In this inevitable moment of reflection, my chest expands, and I know again what I have always known.  Art is my vocation.  I have spent a great deal of time hoping that my calling was elsewhere, wanting to be something different, something nobler.  I am passionate about many things, and am a believer in the potential of my hometown and the people in it.

Often the end harbors the beginning. As I prepare to start a new piece, I am filled with happiness, hope, and infinite gratitude.

I would like to say “thank you” to all the people who made last night’s performance possible: Mauro Bermudez, Daniel Lewis and Ray Sullivan of Miami Contemporary Dance Company, who provided space and a venue; lifelong friend Carmen Cothern; and Laura Luna, who reminded me that weak knees are never an option.