BLOOM: A celebration of the life of puppeteer, poet, and painter Lindsay Abromaitis-Smith
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by Chad Williams
To me, Lindsay will always be like a dandelion blooming out of a crack in the sidewalk. In the most unlikely, inhospitable environment, she defiantly emerged to shine with beauty, magic and resilience.
However, after 13 long years of surviving against all odds, this flower has finally decided to relent and return to the earth.
I met Lindsay Abromaitis-Smith in 2007 in New York City. She was part of the puppeteer cast rehearsing Drama of Works' "Warhol", bringing the iconic artist back to life in a piece that celebrated his life, his art, and his queerness. She was an excellent puppeteer, trained at Theater Aux Mains Nues in France at 19 and unleashed upon the NYC scene soon after. We were not prepared.
Lindsay was one of the many ensemble puppeteers in NYC who jumped from piece to piece while making her own work on the side. She journeyed around the world performing in various puppet theater companies including Basil Twist, Joey Arias, Lee Breuer, and Manfred Thierry Mugler. Lindsay made friends easily and impressed many with her thoughts on art and life.
The second time I met Lindsay, it was 2010 and she was hosting a puppet slam at The Center, a safe space for young queer people on West 13th St in Manhattan. The audience was a bit unsure about puppetry, keeping their reactions and interest to a low curiosity until Lindsay took the stage. Her piece was bizarre, sexy and hilarious in a way that really got the crowd doubling over in laughter and participating with ooohs and ahhhhs. Her presence was so strong, her movement vibrant and communicative, and yet she was so delightfully calm and whimsical. She had a magic combination that transfixed artists and audiences alike. As her career began to blossom, all eyes were on puppetry's new "it" girl and her unlimited potential.
EMERGING
In 2012 Lindsay premiered an original piece of movement-based ritual theater, "Epyllion", at HERE Arts Center. As a resident artist at HERE from 2009-12, she had been leading her own cast of puppeteers and dancers. Her works included large piles of soil, a half-naked cast, tribal imagery and lots of audience participation. I vividly remember stuffing a bean into a large mound of dirt only to have an earthen-covered puppet crawl its way out like a seed making its way to sunshine. Lindsay had emerged and people were buzzing about this incredible new theater artist.
At the same time that she had all this positive momentum going, something just as big was brewing inside her. Lindsay said once that she knew something was going on inside her body, but wasn't sure what. Then one night, she had a dream that brought all the puzzle pieces together.
“The night before I was diagnosed with Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, I dreamed of a goddess made entirely of flowers and plants who told me I had to learn to physically manifest differently. As I slow down, my body in flux, I am allying myself more and more with plants and learning how to become the woman and flower I have always wanted to be. People ask me how it feels. This is my answer.”
In 2012 she was diagnosed with ALS, a disease with no cure. It attacks the motor neurons in the spinal cord and brain, atrophying muscles and paralyzing the body. Her hands that had wielded puppets so skillfully retired to her lap. Her body which had danced and pranced across international stages laid down in bed for good.
Once ALS starts, it almost always progresses. Most people with ALS eventually lose the ability to walk, dress, write, speak, swallow and breathe, and their life span is shortened. ... While the average survival time is three years, about 20% of people with ALS live five years, 10% survive 10 years and 5% live 20 years or longer. - ALS Association
RESILIENCE
For the next few years, Lindsay continued to use her body as much as it would allow. In 2013 she produced and starred in "Bloom:. She is Descending" to the joy and astoundment of the artistic community that continued to be entranced by her output. She traveled. With the unwavering support of her mother, Lindsay became the artist in residence at the Toshiko Takaezu Studio in Quakertown, NJ and created paintings with her feet. She spoke openly about living with ALS and gave talks and interviews. Every year until 2020 she hosted a "Wild Rumpus" at her home which was a celebration of art, music, and friendship that lasted late into the night.
As the disease progressed, Lindsay spent less time in her motorized wheelchair and more laying down in her bed, accompanied by her beloved orange cat, Chicken. She painted with her feet and wrote poetry. To show a different side of people with ALS, she did several incredible photoshoots and happenings with her in outrageous and puppety costumes. Throughout it all her mother Karin Abromaitis was her constant caregiver and cheerleader. Occasionally Lindsay would release a video of messing around or making art and we'd see her Mom joking with her or playfully teasing her to make her smile.
Eventually the pair decided they needed a professional caregiver who could live on-site and had a few different people fill that role over the last few years. Lindsay had good days where she'd create poetry and bad days where she'd be posting about how much ALS sucks on Facebook.
Most people don't make it past year three of having ALS. Lindsay has made it to year 13 through sheer willpower, an amazing mother, and support from artists, friends and cats. As the disease is always fatal, and as it continues to progress over time, Lindsay has decided to end things at Samhain this year, October 2025. She is summoning her friends for one last Rumpus at her house to send her off with the bang. Between now and then, she is embroiled in the necessary paperwork to legally die, figuring out funeral expenses and where she can legally be buried.
I was, am and forever will be inspired by Lindsay whose artistic light refused to be snuffed out by even the hardest circumstances. I continue to tell my puppetry students about the time during her show when the audience planted seeds into a gigantic dirt mound on stage, or the time a petal-like skirt transformed from a protective shell into a powerful, primal tool. She helped people while she was suffering, and she sang and spoke with her own voice with wisdom and a pure kind of magic.
I would like to end with a poem written by Lindsay herself, titled "After a Morning of Weeping".
After a morning of weeping
When I meltdown
Let me melt completely
To join in the ocean of all
May my spine become the seaweeds and jellyfish
Pulsing and rippling in the currents
May the tears flow so that the sting of salt lessens
So fully that the rivers on my cheeks feel like coming home
Wash the bitter thorns with the honey I put away for the rainy day
My being need not be a hurricane any more
Everything has been thoroughly smashed and drenched
Let the sun peak in the cracks of my caged heart
-Lindsay Abromaitis-Smith
