Dear Professor,

I’m sure you may not know this, but as a young dancing girl, I had a summer love affair with the NDTC. Every season of dance attended was a ‘date’, a chance to be courted by lithe forms, athletic feats, intellectual physical conversation, vibrancy, colour and cultural resonance. Summer would mean another autographed programme to add to my prized collection, and more reasons to dance in front of the mirror for hours, trying to recapture, re-enact, physicalise what I had seen some of my greatest mentors do on that Little Theatre stage. Ah! Kumina! “I want to knowww, I want to knoww!”

In hearing that you were in the audience at those early Stella Maris Dance Group shows, I would fantasise about being asked by you to come join the NDTC and make history in becoming the Company’s first 11-year-old member (smile). I danced my best for you, Sir, confident you would see my heart shining through — all this without ever ‘really’ speaking to you face-to-face. You were legend, a name to be whispered with reverence and averted eyes. My only conversations with you came through the classes led by my earliest teachers — MoniKa Lawrence, Carol Murdock, Patsy Ricketts, Glen Brown, Tony Wilson, Milton Sterling — all members of the NDTC at one time or another.

The sense of necessity of cultural / artistic education and professionalism that came through their transfer of dance information was not lost on me, young as I was, it was a message I was hungry for.

As I grew with the NDTC my expectations of the ‘dates’/ encounters deepened. I looked forward to gifts of the next Nettleford gems; to reading the stories, theories and commentaries woven through the skilful poetry of bodies couched in so many layers of meaning.

Fast forward to my own UWI years, times characterised by my own ‘battle for space’ albeit of a different shape. Was I artiste or social scientist, writer or choreographer, performance-maker or meaning-maker? You provided me with a template for being all of the above — left and right brain in loving dialogue. Concepts of stretching inwards to reach outwards connected with the artistic Caribbean rebel I was becoming. The ‘conversation’ continued. Its themes of self-understanding, the body resistant and cultural marronage found willing ears and I began to understand how an artistic and cultural breadth of knowledge could enliven the most academic of writings.

In time, the ‘conversation’ became real as I came to know you as artistic director, choreographer, advisor, academic/ surrogate Godfather. Learning some of your seminal works was such a pivotal point for me. The Gerrehbenta, Kumina, Drumscore, and The Crossing I had always seen and loved, and for which I knew the full suite of songs, were now becoming a part of my muscle memory. My childhood dream come true! Thank you for allowing me to step over the audience-performer divide and feel the Nettlefordian artistic intelligence from the other side. Within that lay priceless lessons about space, rhythm, time. Your classes reiterated the need to understand a movement’s internal rhythm before releasing it into manifestation (Inward Stretch, Outward Reach).

Your counts and vocal cues were so much more than just sounds and utterances, they were a sort of rhythmic deciphering. The inaudible made audible… feet turned into song. Your interest in the dancers in your space, palpable excitement at our presence, abilities, and potential went way beyond the studio — you cared. Your office doors were always open for dialogue, brain-picking and idea-bouncing. About further education in the arts, or otherwise you were passionate, and went to great lengths to ensure that those of us who chose to study were supported and knew it. Thank you for that empowerment, Sir and for never hesitating to be interviewed for thesis upon thesis (upon thesis).

Thank you also for teaching me the ways of cultural royalty – “Manners must adorn knowledge, and smooth its way through the world” (Lord Chesterfield). You were a great proponent of holding strain, committing to the long haul and watching naysayers fade into the distance. With a wink of complicity you would remind me that I would not always get to do what I wanted to immediately, and that I had to use a sense of perspective to temper my artistic spiritedness. Though we didn’t completely agree on that one (wink) I thank you Sir for your honesty in my time of seeking answers and for your unparalleled example of the true test of class — being able to make others feel at ease and respected. Even your detractors must have had a chuckle when they saw your Tyrannosaurus Rex T-Shirt (Dinosaur indeed!) What a tongue-in-cheek response to those who would criticise your method and ‘madness’ — even the young bucks like me. Like a statesman for the arts and culture of this blessed island you prized development over conflict and focused your energy not on fighting battles but on peopleing Jamaica’s spaces of culture, arts and education with spirits who, having known you will never, ever, be the same.

With love and unending gratitude, Neila