A House for Dance

by Jane Refshauge

I was deeply saddened to learn of Geraldine’s passing. So many memories of our time together to establish Dancehouse as an artist cooperatively managed space. We were committed to a non-discriminatory, democratic, independent venue organised by artists for artists.

Hellen Sky, Sylvia Staehli and John McCormack approached the Melbourne City Council to see if there were any unused spaces. The old Carlton Community Centre was made available, a huge undertaking, an essentially derelict building that needed to be brought up to council regulation standards.

I have such vivid memories of the glint in Geraldine’s eyes that matched her hair and smile. She was such an inspired contributor in the early days of cooperatively managing what was to become Dancehouse. In meetings, we lined a room adjacent to the upstairs studio with butcher’s paper and set about ‘brain storming’ the best ways to organise and maintain the space: fund raising, advertising, hiring the venue, programming dance works, cleaning the building. When ideas were hotly contested, Geraldine always had a way of finding a path forward. We pulled ivy from air vents, climbed ladders with paint brushes in hand, scrubbed toilets, gardened, tidied the kitchen/green room areas, put posters up around the inner city. There was a ‘sweat equity’ system put in place, studio time in return for hours cleaning or the like. It was a very full creative time. Eventually Dancehouse became so successful that the arts funding bodies required an administrator to be appointed and the cooperative system abruptly ended, the 100+ hours of studio time owing for equity in sweat were forgotten. This early enthusiasm was the foundation of Dancehouse, a legacy that Geraldine was very much a part of and one she has left for all who follow to enjoy: a house for dance!

Between the First and Last

by Christos Linou

The first time I met Geraldine was at Dancehouse in 1994. Sylvia Stahlei presented a body and sound dance workshop, with improvisational activities including a sound wheel. Sylvia asked us to lie on our backs, our feet facing inward to create a circle. Sylvia walked around the outside of the circle of about fifteen dancers and asked us to react with a sound as she moved pass, any sound. Sylvia continued to walk the circle and asked us to make the sounds louder, to start reacting with our bodies and lift our heads off the ground.

Fifteen minutes of improvisation started to become a trance, bodies automatically moving in response to each other. And this is when I saw Geraldine. The sounds were almost animalistic and ritual based with Oooos and Ahhhhh and Grrrrs. There was a moment when I raised my body and looked across to this beautifully crazed attractive woman, who was sort of in the action but not. She and I looked at each other and smiled and almost started to laugh at the group’s antics.

Geraldine and I never dropped focus during this last part of the exercise, energised to scream and groan louder with demonic laughter. Sylvia asked us to slowly wind down and relax with just the sounds of our breathing. I could hear Geraldine chanting something in Greek. At the end of the workshop, we all chatted and Geraldine said “I saw your performance Terror of the Old, at Dancehouse the other night and it reminded me of Greece, especially when you stood on a haystack wearing your mothers dress, peeling an orange and eating the bible. I thought what a madman, but he looks beautiful, I really like him.”

That’s when I found out that Geraldine lived on the Greek island of Skyros and we started speaking Greek. I felt I found a new soul sister. Our friendship strengthened and over time we took part in various dance workshops and participated on the Dancehouse board. Geraldine was always firm when she thought the space needed to be a place of experimentation, and a place where art makers could gather as a community.

In 1996, I choreographed a work as part of the Full Flight project, and Geraldine was one of the performers. My work was called Deep Sleep, and I remember laughing when Geraldine said, “Christos why the F..k do we have to wear a suit jacket with our underwear and a stocking over our head, standing on the roof of Danchouse for a photo shoot? This is Malakia!” I said, “Your right Geraldine it’s not quite right, I think you should lean in towards Barbara and we can use this image for the flyer”.  Geraldine knew my art was weird and wacky, and always supported and inspired me. I miss her bold wisdom and quirky smile. She had a subtle ability of telling it like it is and if you weren’t offended, you learnt something!

The last time I saw Geraldine was for Sylvia Staehli’s memorial at Dancehouse. We were all grief struck by Sylvia’s death. During the memorial, Geraldine asked me to start a Greek Hasapiko dance. Within a moment there were over fifty friends holding hands and dancing in a huge circle celebrating Sylvia’s life, Geraldine singing a blessing in Greek. This was the last time I remember being with Geraldine, things at Dancehouse changed and the community started to drift away, as funding bodies and not the artists were now shaping the direction of the space.

I loved Geraldine, and her ability to wake me up, “Don’t be a Vlaka (fool), life is too short, you have to use your time wisely with creativity, love and beauty.” Her spirit is now free, dancing in the cosmos.

Thirty Years On

by Angie Pötsch

Geraldine brought an already rich history of experiences, including dancing with One Extra Dance Company, when I first met her, right at the beginning of Dancehouse, in 1992. Such a diversity of artists came together, each bringing their individual practice and creativity. Through our passion, dedication and sweat, we built a community. We collaborated together and supported each other through the journey. As we eventually moved into different directions, Geraldine and I maintained our friendship.

Her commitment and dedication continued in all her many activities: art and music, social justice and the environment, Indigenous literacy and reconciliation groups, her work in education and TAFE, Buddhism and her Buddhist community.

Geraldine completed a Master’s Degree in Indigenous Studies at Monash University, and initiated a PhD research project, negotiating with the Darwin Gaol System to access a group of indigenous dancers, allowed out of prison for Welcome to Country ceremonies, the love of dance still guiding her endeavours.

Just before Geraldine’s parting, in the backyard of her Warragul home, we conjured up the spirit of dance, and even though she was very ill, the joy radiated forth from within her.

Not long afterwards, her struggle with cancer came to an end. I will miss her warmth, generosity, compassion, her unswerving sense of purpose, and will always remember those early years of Dancehouse, a centre for dance still developing and thriving today.

Hope

by Rosemary Simons

Geraldine and I lost touch when she moved to Greece, but Dancehouse, that gathering place of dancers and dance audiences, reunited us when we both turned up to one of Dr Katrina Rank’s wonderful classes.

Geraldine brought insight, thoughtfulness and spirituality to discussions on dance and Indigenous culture and she was deeply touched by her time participating in ceremonies with Aboriginal women in a remote community. Dances can tell stories. This quote is from Geraldine’s favourite book, “Carpentaria” by Alexis Wright 2006, (Chapter 2 Introduction):

“THE CLOCKS, TICK-A-TY-TOCK, LOOKED AS THOUGH THEY MIGHT RUN OUT OF TIME.

LUCKILY, THE GHOSTS IN THE MEMORIES OF THE OLD FOLK WERE LISTENING, AND

SAID ANYONE CAN FIND HOPE IN THE STORIES: THE BIG STORIES AND THE LITTLE ONES IN

BETWEEN….”