Homer Avila by Robin Hoffman.
By Paul Ben-Itzak
Copyright 2004, 2018 Paul Ben-Itzak
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Homer Avila died Sunday night, at the age of 49, at Memorial Sloan-Kettering in New York, where he’d checked himself in Saturday. “He was dancing until Friday, checked himself into the hospital Saturday night, and was gone by twilight Sunday,” reports Pentacle’s Ivan Sygoda. “The cancer that cost him his hip and leg had metastasized and reached his lungs.”
The journalist trades in the effects of sympathy. By his reporting and then the selection and arranging of details, he can write an obituary to pull your heart out. I’ve been doing this for more than 25 years, since a high school English teacher I didn’t know that well passed away unexpectedly, and I set about interviewing his colleagues. Did I know what they told me was moving? Yes. Was I moved by their words? Yes, but it was probably a detached empathy. This one is hard.
Homer danced with Momix and with Bill T. Jones/Arnie Zane, where he would meet his partner Edisa Weeks. I first caught them in an evening of performance in a church basement on the Upper East Side, where their duet “Dubious Faith” was the highlight. Homer played a priest, with the taller Edisa lifting and twirling him; Homer walked on upended wine glasses. More miracles were to come.
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