If only Tanja could respond herself to all of you wonderful people, whose hearts are filled with so much warmth, compassion, and the joy knowing her. You have all given her a new stage in the corridors of your memories and the platform of your hearts. I would like to bring to you all a poem by Pablo Neruda – one of the most beautiful love poems ever written. I am forwarding it for Tanja, hoping that it is alright with her.
I don't love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
I love you as certain dark things are loved,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that doesn't bloom and carries
hidden within itself the light of those flowers,
and thanks to your love, darkly in my body
lives the dense fragrance that rises from the earth.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you simply, without problems or pride:
I love you in this way because I don't know any other way of loving
but this, in which there is no I or you,
so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand,
so intimate that when I fall asleep it is your eyes that close.
Sunday, 30 September 2007
Saturday, 29 September 2007
tribute
Tomorrow we celebrate your life. It's still completely unreal so I have been fine now for some time, although I have no idea how our tribute will affect me. you are so vivid still. It's kind of like we are playing at all this and I'm ready for you to come back now. I have you in my ear now...'no, dont write that, put this..., no, thats not me, sounds silly' etc. It's turning to Autumn now, outside and inside me.. as the reality slowly sets in after a loud summer. I wonder what you would want me to do tomorrow, what to say to everyone, how can we create some kind of phoenix from the situation... strength, courage, compassion and an renewed curiosity in places, things, ultimately people.. strangers and loved ones.
I feel supported and encouraged by you every day. I miss you x
I feel supported and encouraged by you every day. I miss you x
Wednesday, 26 September 2007
A tear for you
Tanja
Today I cried for you. I haven't in a while.
I turned 30 on Friday and as expected we had a pretty big bash. It was fun. But you were missing.
Today I got a package from my Paul from London. In it was a DVD he had made for me.
It had many beautiful and wonderful people in it, and for a moment all there was was a lit candle in the dark and very softly and slowly your name appeared from the darkness. Thoughts of you came flooding in like images of photos in a flick book. I cried for you and I remembered you. I smiled and loved you like I always have and always will.
Babe I'm creating a new work with Lisa now!.... I never thought that would happen.... You just wont stop inspiring us will you.... Somehow you are in every movement... Thanks my friend.
You guide me everyday you know....
I miss you
Craig xxx
Today I cried for you. I haven't in a while.
I turned 30 on Friday and as expected we had a pretty big bash. It was fun. But you were missing.
Today I got a package from my Paul from London. In it was a DVD he had made for me.
It had many beautiful and wonderful people in it, and for a moment all there was was a lit candle in the dark and very softly and slowly your name appeared from the darkness. Thoughts of you came flooding in like images of photos in a flick book. I cried for you and I remembered you. I smiled and loved you like I always have and always will.
Babe I'm creating a new work with Lisa now!.... I never thought that would happen.... You just wont stop inspiring us will you.... Somehow you are in every movement... Thanks my friend.
You guide me everyday you know....
I miss you
Craig xxx
Sunday, 23 September 2007
from... Mariane Grebner
It was good to know you
Too short, but lively, true,
Beautiful like a summer breeze,
Great memory that will not cease.
It is so hard to lez you go.
We miss you but still feel your flow
Of inspiration, strength, joy,art.
You will be always in my heart.
We cry the tears we cannot hide.
Your soul still dances by our side.
Too short, but lively, true,
Beautiful like a summer breeze,
Great memory that will not cease.
It is so hard to lez you go.
We miss you but still feel your flow
Of inspiration, strength, joy,art.
You will be always in my heart.
We cry the tears we cannot hide.
Your soul still dances by our side.
Wednesday, 12 September 2007
4 weeks
so nearly 4 weeks and she continues to hide around every single corner catching me out like little twigs catching loose threads in my jumper which starts the sorrowful process of inevitable unravelling, feels like it will just continue disintegrating unwinding off me till I stand naked in tears with goose bumps and anger.
She is too precious to lose and way too hard to let go. cant we bundle each other up for snuggles. hold your loved ones tight till you cannot last a moment without another breath.
I believe in poetry now my god. I share this thankyou justine
you have closed your eyes
A night is born
full of hidden wounds,
of dead sounds
as of corks
when the nets are let down to the water
Your hands become a breath
of inviolable distances,
slippery as thoughts,
And that equivocation of the moon
and that gentlest rocking,
if you would lay them on my eyes,
touch the soul.
You are the woman who passes by like a leaf
leaving an autumn fire in the trees.
(Stanley Kunitz's Meditations on Death)
She is too precious to lose and way too hard to let go. cant we bundle each other up for snuggles. hold your loved ones tight till you cannot last a moment without another breath.
I believe in poetry now my god. I share this thankyou justine
you have closed your eyes
A night is born
full of hidden wounds,
of dead sounds
as of corks
when the nets are let down to the water
Your hands become a breath
of inviolable distances,
slippery as thoughts,
And that equivocation of the moon
and that gentlest rocking,
if you would lay them on my eyes,
touch the soul.
You are the woman who passes by like a leaf
leaving an autumn fire in the trees.
(Stanley Kunitz's Meditations on Death)
Wednesday, 5 September 2007
The way she was.... from Boris Liedtke
There were a lot of press reports when Tanja was appointed artistic director of the Sydney Dance Company – most of them talking about Tanja’s new vision and the courageous move by the board to appoint such a young and relatively inexperienced person to the position.
While Tanja was indeed young, she was certainly not inexperienced. In fact as an older brother, I recall her first role as an artistic director and general manager of a dance company at the age of six. “Age six, you might say – that is below the legal working age.”
Let me elaborate …
Patrick, Tanja and I grew up in a household where our father administered our weekly pocket money like a pay check in a company. Our allowance, while generous, was pretty much all we got to spend and if we wanted to have more, we had to be creative. Washing cars and cutting the lawn gave us a little extra but it was hard work and it soon became our dream to combine the work with something that was actually fun to do.
Patrick and I hit on the idea of organising slot car races between the two of us and charge our parents for watching little plastic cars race around the track in the living room. Needless to say that the novelty wore of sooner than we had hoped for and after the third race, the audience stayed away and the idea was abandoned.
Well, it did not take long before our 6-year old sister Tanja picked up on the idea and perfected it. Instead of slot car races, she reached out to her friends in the neighbourhood and choreographed little drama and dance performances. For days, kids between the ages of 4 and 10 came to our home for rehearsals. Being business minded, she not only invited our mum and dad but instead reached out to every parent of any kid in the play and pre-sold them tickets for the show and trust me, there were as many performers in those shows as kids in the neighbourhood. No one was left out because that is just the way she was.
On show day, our house was full of parents and kids and then Tanja would get her team ready, tell the grown-ups to sit down and order the performers around the little make-shift stage. Everything had to work like clockwork to satisfy her drive for perfection because that is just the way she was.
The shows were almost always a success apart from perhaps the odd forgotten line by a 3-year old actor or a wrong dance turn by a six-year old dancer. Tanja probably made more money in her first show than my brother and I ever made from slot car races. I was never crossed with her from taking our idea and perfecting it. To the contrary, I was happily spending my own hard-earned pocket money to see my little sister’s show.
Come to think of it, I never asked her what she did with all the money from those tickets. Though knowing her, she must have split it all up and distributed it to her performers and helpers starting with the very youngest because that is just the way she was.
While Tanja was indeed young, she was certainly not inexperienced. In fact as an older brother, I recall her first role as an artistic director and general manager of a dance company at the age of six. “Age six, you might say – that is below the legal working age.”
Let me elaborate …
Patrick, Tanja and I grew up in a household where our father administered our weekly pocket money like a pay check in a company. Our allowance, while generous, was pretty much all we got to spend and if we wanted to have more, we had to be creative. Washing cars and cutting the lawn gave us a little extra but it was hard work and it soon became our dream to combine the work with something that was actually fun to do.
Patrick and I hit on the idea of organising slot car races between the two of us and charge our parents for watching little plastic cars race around the track in the living room. Needless to say that the novelty wore of sooner than we had hoped for and after the third race, the audience stayed away and the idea was abandoned.
Well, it did not take long before our 6-year old sister Tanja picked up on the idea and perfected it. Instead of slot car races, she reached out to her friends in the neighbourhood and choreographed little drama and dance performances. For days, kids between the ages of 4 and 10 came to our home for rehearsals. Being business minded, she not only invited our mum and dad but instead reached out to every parent of any kid in the play and pre-sold them tickets for the show and trust me, there were as many performers in those shows as kids in the neighbourhood. No one was left out because that is just the way she was.
On show day, our house was full of parents and kids and then Tanja would get her team ready, tell the grown-ups to sit down and order the performers around the little make-shift stage. Everything had to work like clockwork to satisfy her drive for perfection because that is just the way she was.
The shows were almost always a success apart from perhaps the odd forgotten line by a 3-year old actor or a wrong dance turn by a six-year old dancer. Tanja probably made more money in her first show than my brother and I ever made from slot car races. I was never crossed with her from taking our idea and perfecting it. To the contrary, I was happily spending my own hard-earned pocket money to see my little sister’s show.
Come to think of it, I never asked her what she did with all the money from those tickets. Though knowing her, she must have split it all up and distributed it to her performers and helpers starting with the very youngest because that is just the way she was.
"Hopes struck down – Dreams re-Construct-ed"...from the Liedtke family
We, the friends and family, will remember a 10-month old Tanja standing on her little stumpy legs for the first time. The arts world will remember her dancing on stage with those same legs, now long and slender.
We will remember a one-year old birthday child with curly brown hair holding a little coloured ball between her fingers. The arts world will remember those same long limbs gracefully moving through the air describing her vision for the next scene.
We will remember a lively six-year old directing her friends to private shows at home. The world will remember her brilliant choreography of understandable modern dance performances.
And all of us could leave it at that – memories of the past, pictures from by-gone years, articles about her success and tragic death in fading newspapers - hopes of what might have been.
Or we could take those pieces and reconstruct new dreams into a world without Tanja, the person, but a world reflecting her vision.
For Tanja, Modern dance was meant for all of us. It was to communicate a message, which the casual theatregoer could understand. In her early pieces, such as “Forever You”, the topics were of love and relationships. As she matured, the messages became statements, bolder almost forceful. First in the highly acclaimed “Twelfth Floor” where she analysed group behaviour in a closed space. Followed by “Construct” where she spoke about building and destruction of career, home and family. Her next piece would have tackled the environment. Seeking inspiration for this piece, she attended Bangarra Dance Theatre performing “True Stories” at the Opera House. Returning late and full of new ideas, she turned to her usual place for reflection. Walking along the dark and abandoned streets of her favourite city, Sydney, her mind was integrating those ideas into her vision for an understandable yet complex piece on the environment. Perhaps fate, perhaps consciously wanting to connect to her professional beginnings in Australia, her steps were leading her towards the studio where she trained with her admired teacher – Tanya Pearson. Here, her vision ended.
We dream that the dance world takes this vision around the world and reconstructs it in her name.
For us, family and friends, we will take her patience, generosity and love to pass it to the next generation as best we can so that they can dream as much of Tanja as we had hoped for.
We will remember a one-year old birthday child with curly brown hair holding a little coloured ball between her fingers. The arts world will remember those same long limbs gracefully moving through the air describing her vision for the next scene.
We will remember a lively six-year old directing her friends to private shows at home. The world will remember her brilliant choreography of understandable modern dance performances.
And all of us could leave it at that – memories of the past, pictures from by-gone years, articles about her success and tragic death in fading newspapers - hopes of what might have been.
Or we could take those pieces and reconstruct new dreams into a world without Tanja, the person, but a world reflecting her vision.
For Tanja, Modern dance was meant for all of us. It was to communicate a message, which the casual theatregoer could understand. In her early pieces, such as “Forever You”, the topics were of love and relationships. As she matured, the messages became statements, bolder almost forceful. First in the highly acclaimed “Twelfth Floor” where she analysed group behaviour in a closed space. Followed by “Construct” where she spoke about building and destruction of career, home and family. Her next piece would have tackled the environment. Seeking inspiration for this piece, she attended Bangarra Dance Theatre performing “True Stories” at the Opera House. Returning late and full of new ideas, she turned to her usual place for reflection. Walking along the dark and abandoned streets of her favourite city, Sydney, her mind was integrating those ideas into her vision for an understandable yet complex piece on the environment. Perhaps fate, perhaps consciously wanting to connect to her professional beginnings in Australia, her steps were leading her towards the studio where she trained with her admired teacher – Tanya Pearson. Here, her vision ended.
We dream that the dance world takes this vision around the world and reconstructs it in her name.
For us, family and friends, we will take her patience, generosity and love to pass it to the next generation as best we can so that they can dream as much of Tanja as we had hoped for.
Please join us to celebrate the life and work of Tanja Liedtke at Toynbee Studios, London, on Sunday 30th September.
The gathering will commence at 2pm with drinks in the Arts Bar and Café
followed by a film presentation of Tanja’s work at 3pm in the theatre.
RSVP email: dv8@artsadmin.co.uk or tel: 020 7655 0977
Please pass this invitation to those you know who would benefit from this opportunity to remember Tanja.
Toynbee Studios, 28 Commercial Street, London, E1 6AB
Toynbee Studios, 28 Commercial Street, London, E1 6AB
From Blanca
Sabes, Tanja? La Tanja que yo recuerdo y llevo en mi corazón es muy distinta y, a la vez, muy similar a la que encuentro reflejada en esta página de amor y cariño. Como bien sabes, la Tanja que llevo conmigo es una Tanja niña, si bien ya dejaba ver la gran mujer en la que te convertirías.
Como todos dicen, eras alegre, positiva, divertida, cariñosa y, sobre todo, inteligente. Exigente contigo misma y consciente de que eras capaz de dar lo mejor de ti siempre.
Pero lo que no saben, y este es el privilegio y el honor que yo guardo por haber compartido la infancia contigo, es que, además, eras una niña generosa, inquieta, de sonrisa enorme, deseosa de vivir y explorar la vida al máximo, que odiaba sus pecas y se reía como loca cada vez que yo me montaba en un caballo.
Te acuerdas de nuestros veranos en Escocia? Y de las tardes en las que jugábamos a detectives en mi casa? Y de nuestras clases de piano? Y de Pepelico y Pepelica? Y de la primera vez que te fui a ver bailar con el traje rosa y blanco que te había hecho tu madre?
Sé que te acuerdas porque lo estuvimos recordando la última vez que te ví en Madrid. Cómo nos reimos!!! Parecía que los años no habían pasado y que habíamos estado juntas siempre. Fue mágico.
Tanja, hace muchos años se me rompió el corazón cuando te marchaste a Inglaterra pero se curó porque tú eras feliz y hacías lo que más amabas. Ahora, no sólo es el mío; son muchos los corazones que se han roto y que jamás podrán sanar pues el hueco que nos dejas no podrá llenarse hasta que nos volvamos a encontrar.
Tanja, contigo se va mi infancia, pero has de saber que la tuya yo la guardo.
Estés donde estés, sigue bailando. Sigue bailando y riendo porque así cuando te vuelva a encontrar podré decir: ‘Sigue siendo mi Tanja”.
Como todos dicen, eras alegre, positiva, divertida, cariñosa y, sobre todo, inteligente. Exigente contigo misma y consciente de que eras capaz de dar lo mejor de ti siempre.
Pero lo que no saben, y este es el privilegio y el honor que yo guardo por haber compartido la infancia contigo, es que, además, eras una niña generosa, inquieta, de sonrisa enorme, deseosa de vivir y explorar la vida al máximo, que odiaba sus pecas y se reía como loca cada vez que yo me montaba en un caballo.
Te acuerdas de nuestros veranos en Escocia? Y de las tardes en las que jugábamos a detectives en mi casa? Y de nuestras clases de piano? Y de Pepelico y Pepelica? Y de la primera vez que te fui a ver bailar con el traje rosa y blanco que te había hecho tu madre?
Sé que te acuerdas porque lo estuvimos recordando la última vez que te ví en Madrid. Cómo nos reimos!!! Parecía que los años no habían pasado y que habíamos estado juntas siempre. Fue mágico.
Tanja, hace muchos años se me rompió el corazón cuando te marchaste a Inglaterra pero se curó porque tú eras feliz y hacías lo que más amabas. Ahora, no sólo es el mío; son muchos los corazones que se han roto y que jamás podrán sanar pues el hueco que nos dejas no podrá llenarse hasta que nos volvamos a encontrar.
Tanja, contigo se va mi infancia, pero has de saber que la tuya yo la guardo.
Estés donde estés, sigue bailando. Sigue bailando y riendo porque así cuando te vuelva a encontrar podré decir: ‘Sigue siendo mi Tanja”.
Tuesday, 4 September 2007
Tanja, brilliant, extraordinary you. Thank you for coming to me in that dream the night before I went to Sydney; of course it was you, even if you were being a coy schoolgirl.
'He is collecting her, scooping up the crumbs that fall from her mouth, clutching at them, cradling them, holding them up to look at them, minutely inspecting them, treasuring them, putting them into wildly ornate frames of desire and hope, encapsulating them in precious metal boxes and cabinets studded with jewels like some mouldering flake of bone declared a Catholic relic; something to be venerated, worshipped through its association, its alleged provenance.'
We all miss you. x
'He is collecting her, scooping up the crumbs that fall from her mouth, clutching at them, cradling them, holding them up to look at them, minutely inspecting them, treasuring them, putting them into wildly ornate frames of desire and hope, encapsulating them in precious metal boxes and cabinets studded with jewels like some mouldering flake of bone declared a Catholic relic; something to be venerated, worshipped through its association, its alleged provenance.'
We all miss you. x
Remembering Tanja.
I remember the first time I met Tanja, we were the only two new girls arriving later on in the Summer term at Elmhurst, she was even longer and thinner than me, which I liked! We were both pretty bemused by boarding school ways- the form B.F's, the pash's/lettes the quiz, eggo, divine....but soon enough we became accustomed to it all and were new no longer. Infact, Tanja was at the forfront of most dormitory quirks I seem to remember!
I became was very very fond of her, as well as being bubbly and funny and multi-lingual, she was principalled and knew her own mind, two rare qualities, especially for someone so young. Her passion for life was furious and she was positive in every situation...as a reflection, this incedible individual carved exceptional life experiences and accomplishments, and she's been in my thoughts every day since I heard the news. And I'm sending Kurt and Gelanda, Sol, Theo and all that know and love her all my love and thoughts during this very sad time. Annabelle. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
I became was very very fond of her, as well as being bubbly and funny and multi-lingual, she was principalled and knew her own mind, two rare qualities, especially for someone so young. Her passion for life was furious and she was positive in every situation...as a reflection, this incedible individual carved exceptional life experiences and accomplishments, and she's been in my thoughts every day since I heard the news. And I'm sending Kurt and Gelanda, Sol, Theo and all that know and love her all my love and thoughts during this very sad time. Annabelle. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Monday, 3 September 2007
You were always so kind to me, Tanja. Particularly as that wonderful year at Rambert drew to a sad close; when everything changed. You saved Theo and I from that squalid little student house where we were squatting without warm water; even the electricity got cut at some point. I remember laughing about it on your sofa in your cute flat in London, gorging on cookies and tea. What luxury.
Indeed it was you that drove me to Heathrow when my time was up and I had to return home. It was you who helped me repack my bags which were, of course, overweight, saving me from an unpayable fee. It was your arms that held me as I bid it all goodbye. So generous, so understanding. That was the last time I saw you...
Dear one, how very unfair!
To your Loved Ones my warmest wishes... she was amazing!
And indeed to you too...
Indeed it was you that drove me to Heathrow when my time was up and I had to return home. It was you who helped me repack my bags which were, of course, overweight, saving me from an unpayable fee. It was your arms that held me as I bid it all goodbye. So generous, so understanding. That was the last time I saw you...
Dear one, how very unfair!
To your Loved Ones my warmest wishes... she was amazing!
And indeed to you too...
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