Intersections: Zina was an extraordinary spirit
On a brisk January evening two years ago, I made my way to a local dance studio for a story I was working on.
The silence of the street the studio was on betrayed the energy inside, where dancers leaped across the hardwood floors with such ease during a rehearsal, that the young dreams I had secured away in the crevices of my mind of becoming a ballerina crept up.
As music by Croatian-American composer Zeljko Marasovich flooded the room, so did Zina Bethune’s glow. Her beautifully coiffed hair framed by magnificent bejeweled earrings and impeccable matching wardrobe mesmerized me. When she spoke, tinges of her Hollywood past — starring roles on television shows like “Guiding Light” and playing opposite Harvey Keitel in Martin Scorcese’s “Who’s That Knocking at My Door?” — came rushing through.
When she moved, instructing her dancers on their form, you could still sense the flickerings of an international prima ballerina who danced on Broadway and stages across the world.
But she was more than an actress or dancer. Diagnosed with scoliosis, lymph edema and dysplastic hips, she realized how her own perseverance to dance in the face of adversity could change the lives of others like her. Through the Infinite Dreams program, Theatre Bethune became the nation’s first professional dance company to create participatory programs for disabled kids, giving thousands the opportunity to express themselves through the art of dance since 1982.
“If a fifth of our population has a disability, then why shouldn’t a fifth of our cast be disabled?” she said to me over coffee that night.
Shortly after our interview, under the direction and choreography of Bethune, the same dancers I had met performed at Glendale Community College on the eve of the company’s 30th anniversary.
“Silent Roar,” a multimedia presentation inspired by the work of environmental artist Robert Wyland, focused on the plight of gray whales that migrate from Alaska to Baja California and back while risking their lives in dangerous waters. Its subject matter was especially meaningful for Bethune, an ardent animal lover.
Our discussion on this topic rang in my ears for hours after I heard she had stopped her car to check on an injured animal on Forest Lawn Drive on Sunday and was struck by two vehicles and killed.
The performance at Glendale Community College was the start of what Bethune hoped was a long lasting relationship with the area. Intrigued by what she called the strong cultural support that Glendale possessed, she said she wanted to make a bigger impact in the city, as well as adopt it as a permanent base for her multimedia dance company.
Months after my story was published, I was at a theater performance in Burbank when a dazzling vision in pink caught the corner of my eye. I knew it was her right away.
I watched her from a distance as she gracefully floated across the room, not a blond hair out of place and a smile so clearly visible from where I was sitting, emitting the same glow I had witnessed in that dance studio in January.
Journalists are expected to capture the essence of the personalities they connect with. Sometimes it’s a struggle, but once in a while our subjects make it easy.
We relate to — and even become inspired by — the people we’re tasked with doing stories on. Though our meetings were brief and her life was tragically cut short, Zina Bethune will always remain a glowing, extraordinary spirit for me.
LIANA AGHAJANIAN is a Los Angeles-based journalist whose work has appeared in L.A. Weekly, Paste magazine, New America Media, Eurasianet and The Atlantic.