Dear 61,
I intended by this time to be much further along in the work on the Class of 1961 Legacy: The American Tradition in Performance, but as always the demands of my other life intruded and prevented full attention to the task. My own work at several theatres recently on the theatre piece I've created, Mark Twain 'S The Diaries of Adam and Eve, coupled with the single parenting of the twins, Peter and Mollie, now 14-- where are the snows of yesteryear?--coaching soccer and wading through eighth grade world history-(I'm doing much better In the eighth grade this time than I did the first time)--have my frantic back to the wall much of the time.
Perhaps you have heard about The Legacy from other sources... Oscar Arslanian has spoken with several people in the class and it was mentioned briefly in the recent class newsletter and in the Alumni Magazine. I have enclosed a copy of the proposal. I hope that its substance and aspiration speak for itself. Certainly any suggestions based upon your own experience and taste would be welcome and appreciated.
As you can, perhaps, see or sense, this project is something I believe in deeply, both as an artist involved in the life of the theatre and as someone who looks back at Dartmouth as a place and time in my life that taught me the unique and lasting importance of the living act of telling our collective story.
I learned from men like Harry Bond and John Finch, Henry Williams and Warner Bentley what it could mean to hold out your heart to others in the most intimate of public encounters and to tell the great stories. I will never forget Harry Bond freezing suddenly in mid sentence during a lecture on "Marlowe and Desire," the attraction of the bright, seductive surface of the world. He stared for a long beat out the window, and slowly, reluctantly, without looking at the class, recounted his long stunned walk through the gates of the concentration camp he had helped liberate as a young lieutenant in W.W. II. For all of his exterior calm, his averted gaze and barely controlled voice had a power that was both profound and horrible. His story was told, face to face, fragile and full of grace, cutting deeply toward truth like lightning in the night, illuminating the horror of people treated like objects, like meat. It was the essence of great theatre.
It was part of our collective story and that story whether told in music or dance or in the extraordinary language of the great playwrights, the story of who and what we are, or might be, is the story of our journey together. The telling and the listening, together, in the same space on the same night, face to face, heartbeat to heartbeat is a wonderful thing, a gift that Dartmouth gave me and, I believe, to many others.
I think there are few occasions in our lives today where we can come together to hear or say the same words, to listen together to great or simply glorious music, to share the same story. In churches or synagogues perhaps, or what's left of the town meeting, some classrooms... and in our theatres and concert halls. There is much talk these days of the Internet and the global village, of instant communication around the world creating the bond of community. And yet, for all the instant dispatch of data, of electronic call and response, the study published several weeks ago in The New York Times indicates that we feel more isolated than ever. It would seem the more "wired" we are the less connected we are.
As you can see, I am committed. If this were simply a class project I doubt that I would be as deeply involved. I think it reaches far beyond a class gift, deep into the lives of the next generations of Dartmouth. It will continue to strike sparks on the spirits of young men and women long after we have lived our story. It has the potential to help fire the soul of the college and its community, to illuminate its life, to continue its "voice crying out in the wilderness," and to magnify that voice.
In terms of making this possible, it is our intention to create a foundation of leadership gifts before approaching the class at large. The goal here is to raise among the most committed members of the class a minimum of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. With that as a base, the probability of raising the balance of The Legacy will, I think, be quite high. I should explain that the endowment's performance support is based upon projected interest each year of about five percent of the total monies raised.
At this point I have contacted about sixty members of the class I am both pleased and very moved to report that we have gifts/pledges totaling about one hundred and seventy thousand dollars. The level of enthusiasm and support for The Legacy is extremely high. There is a growing sense that we can make a real difference the lives of the Dartmouth community. So we're off to a good start.
I am sure you will grasp the importance of the project. The realistic probability is that this will be our last major Class contribution to the College. Although that's not fun to think about, it does make serious consideration of the idea important. I'll try to be in touch in the next few weeks; or, of course, I'd be delighted to hear from you. My number here is (310) 396-6779.
I hear over and over again that each of the recent reunions has been not only fun in the most traditional way but also extremely moving. Many of the guys that I have spoken with were surprised by the warmth and vulnerability that they found in each other in that setting. I hope you are planning to try and make the next one. It would be good to get reacquainted.
Kindest regards,
David F. Birney
