During rehearsal for our magnificent 1975 fundraiser, I made the fateful decision that we needed to add a lighter pink spot as well as an amber spotlight to the stage lighting set up.  Knowing virtually nothing about stage safety and potential dangers, we simply plugged in a couple of sidelights and set about our mission. However, you know the old saying: "If something can go wrong, it will!"

So many people crowded in to see the show from backstage; someone tripped over the light cord (which we had not thought to duct tape to the floor) and moved the light until it was touching the main stage curtain.  Near the end of our Second Act, the curtain began to smolder badly filling the air with an acrid stench and blue smoke... 

Our quick thinking photographer grabbed a vase full of flowers in water and extinguished the problem…but not before another, not-so-calm guest from the audience decided to run and call the fire department.

By the time the Berkeley Fire fighters arrived, we had aired out the auditorium and had gone on with the Third Act of our show.  Sadly, this incident caused the revoking of Ike Rekus’ business license for his Greek social hall—not because of our ignorant infraction using the portable light fixture, but because the Fire Chief discovered a rear stage backdoor had a chain and lock around its door-bar, and it was locked shut. 

I felt (at that time) that the department was over-zealous, but since then, I have seen disco patrons have died in such circumstances, and now I understand the amount of danger all of us faced.

Bert and I had only opened the Dancing Girl Studio a year before and we were presenting our second annual show—a presentation that had grown like a cactus in the desert.  One day a young man showed up at my studio with an oud slung over his shoulder. He explained that he had been studying Middle Eastern Music across San Francisco Bay in Marin county asked if he could play for my class because his teachers said that he needed to experience working with live dancers.

 "Well that is a twist." I thought, "Usually, we dancers are told that we need experience dancing with live music (and it was certainly true!)."  I was always one who looked for something new to add to the mix and said "Sure; let's try it!"

That young musician was Tim Stackpole, son of the famous photographer for Life Magazine, Peter Stackpole.  He was well mannered, focused, serious, and a fan of the Belly dance as well as Middle Eastern music and a student of the Ali Akbar Khan School of Music in Marin County (--oh, and he was seventeen years old!).  He played for several of my classes, and when he heard about our fundraiser, he volunteered his services for our show.  Already, we had engaged two bands for the occasion (Jazayer and Meraklithes), but I wanted Tim's beautiful energy in our show; so I said, "If you don’t mind: you will sit on a Cleopatra bench at stage center will be featured playing only an Oud taxim for my solo dance in the third act."  Without hesitation he said, "Wow! Let's do it!"

As the actual performance took place, our free-lance photographer, who was interested in creating moody and artistic photos and was not in the business of photographing events per se, captured what has always been one of my favorite dance photos. 

The original was black and white, with me out-of-focus in the foreground, floor dancing, and Tim, with his eyes closed, playing his oud taxim, obviously lost in the private wonder of his music and our stage moment.  Here is that photo:

I feel honored and blessed because my career has brought me into contact with so many creative and adventuresome performers and artisans!