Anet Margot Ris-Kelman

Dear Friends of Anet,
It is with a heavy heart and tearful eyes that I share the passing of my dear friend Anet Margot Ris-Kelman on September 9, 2025 ~ age 72.
Anet passed peacefully at home during an episode -  as she would call them - with which she had a lifelong struggle.
Even in the midst of challenges, her life in this past year held so many blessings. She recently downsized and sold her home, discovered deeper love with her sweetie Wally “Dex” Zialecita, and remained surrounded by art, friendship, and care.
She recently said goodbye to her 16-year-old companion cat, TumTum, who passed gently at home. Just last week, her beloved brother Christopher was able to visit, a final gift of time together.
In her recent days, she was held by her core circle of friends, especially Carla, who has been there over the years.
Anet was my close friend and creative mentor of mine for 12 years. She was dazzling - colorful, daring, insatiably curious. With her, time disappeared.
She taught me to trust the wild pull of creativity, to keep asking why, and to find wonder in the smallest details of life. She leaves quite the legacy behind her. More on that to come…
Anet and Christopher shared an unshakable sibling bond, and he deeply admired her.
Christopher also asks that we share Anet’s story widely through a short video she recorded (www.youtube.com/watch?v=469YIgHcx1I) called Ship Shape - in just four minutes - Anet conveys the essence of her spirit, her journey through her episodes and her longing to finally be at peace.
Kelly Nesbit

I just learned of the passing of my dear friend Anet Ris-Kelman, an extraordinary creative artist and human being. We met on my first day at NYU Tisch in 1974. There were about 100 students in the dance department, and I remember seeing her in the crowd and thinking, now THERE'S an interesting-looking person. I'd like to be friends with HER!

We became very close over the next few years, when she was exploring the intersection of dance and theater and working with Stephanie Skura, Rudy Perez, and Gus Solomons. Later I visited her when she moved back to Madison (where I met both of her parents), then LA, then Portland, Oregon (where I met her husband, Scott, an experimental theater director, and where she has been performing and teaching ever since.)

While living a continent apart for the past 40 years or so, Anet and I stayed in touch with long annual phone calls. The bond of our friendship was deep; it always felt as if we had last spoken just the day before. We'd catch up on our creative endeavors, our families, our love lives, our health, our demons, the world. There was always a feeling of mutual love, support, and encouragement. Anet was a wonderful, wonderful friend, and I will miss her deeply.

Once, when Anet was visiting us in Ossining, we went for a walk and spotted something unusual in the middle of the road on our way home. I pulled over, and we got out to investigate. It was a lime green Luna moth, a spectacular, colorful moth with a 5"-6" wingspan. We both marveled at this wonder of nature. It's the only time I've ever seen one, and it made a vivid impression. Anet, may your spirit fly swiftly and freely into the beyond. Thank you for all you have given us and all the lives you have touched.

Susanna Reich

I want to speak of this brilliant human who passed last week at 72, but hardly know where to begin. Anet to me (as to many) was a teacher, a mentor, a collaborator, a fellow player and dancer. I first met her around 2011 when she was teaching Kelmanworks, the physical theater modality developed by her late husband Scott, at Hipbone Studio in Portland. In the following years I was blessed to get to know her in her roles and participation in multiple overlapping creative communities that I was also part of: clown, Butoh, Action Theater improvisation, and her founding and direction of Tiny Theatre PDX. She was instrumental in me “finding my clown” at the first two clown workshops I ever attended, with Sue Morrison and Giovanni Fussetti. In particular at Giovanni’s Tao of Clown we were partners in the excercises of bringing out each other’s clown and then performing a duet at the end. In that moment I didn’t actually love that clown, it was too much of an accurate representation/amplification, but in fact it was me and has informed all the performance work i’ve done since. Thank you Anet.
Later I helped her with the physical building out of Tiny Theater PDX in her home, and she graciously let me perform at some early salons there. In 2017 and 18 we collaborated on creating a couple of multi act events when we were each working on particular solo characters. Tbh i sometimes chafed at her perfectionism and interpersonal style. But the flipside is learned a lot about the value of serious practice. And oh to speak of her performances and characters! So brilliant both physically and verbally. Such an incredible, funny, diamond sharp mind at work!
In recent years she was delightfully a part of the Portland Action Theater Improv practice group i’ve been attending since 2010. In this and other contexts she has long been one of my absolute favorite people to play and duet with. A brilliant embodied mover and player and performer, to me it was always an honor to connect with her in such a setting.
As many also know, she had many challenges including what she called her “episodes” of physio-emotional difficulty. But her way was to meet these times in her own way, in the endless field of creative practice, as well as leaning on trusted friends and allies for support. I hugely respect her way of meeting life including these harder moments. This time she went peacefully onward and though I may wish she hadn’t, I bow to the mystery and her choices. RIP bright one.

Dan Reed Miller

Love for Anet Ris-Kelman
The life of this amazing human intertwined closely with mine for several years, during college and afterward. We were good at having adventures together – backpacking, swimming in forbidden waters, building dance floors, improvising, performing, discovering somatic secrets. At times I felt myself to be her protector. Other times I found her exasperating and naïve, and forgot how much I loved her.

For the past several years our exchanges were only sporadic. Last we communicated a few months ago, she seemed to be doing well. She’d always gone thru times of being mentally distraught, which took various forms. But like I said, she seemed well when last we emailed. I loved her. And I know she admired me a whole lot.

Her dad was a scientist who pioneered discoveries in cell biology. I don’t know if she ever realized how proud he was of her. On September 9, she ended it. She had tried in the past and always been saved. I thought that was well in the past. I was wrong. The neurological storms in her brain would not stop no matter what she tried. I’m thinking about Virginia Woolf, brilliant writer and total pioneer who also had to deal with neurological storms. Who also finally ended it. I’ve been sobbing for days, thinking about how much she must have suffered to make this choice and be so convicted about it (she left a note).

For a while, I sobbed thinking about what I could have done to help, or rather what I didn’t do. But now I realize I might have only delayed it. As I did in the past. The photos are from college days when we shared a loft in Soho where we rehearsed, experimented, held informal performances. It belonged to Trisha Brown’s out-of-town ex-husband and had a dance studio and a large turtle. Anet’s dad Hans took the photos.

In more recent times, she lived in Portland for many years, where she taught, performed, mentored, hosted a performance series, and got involved with Buddhism, blues social dancing, and experimental theater. She was beloved by many and inspired lots of people. I was in shock and still am. Moses Soyer did some paintings of her (one is attached) and one of the two of us. I wonder now what happened to that one.

Stephanie Skura

It is with deep sadness that we share the passing of Anet Margot Ris-Kelman on September 9th.
Anet Ris-Kelman was an extraordinary educator, musician, and artist whose presence deeply enriched our Blues dance community. Her creativity, generosity, and dedication touched countless lives, and her absence will be profoundly felt.
Portland Blues & Jazz Dance Society (PB&J DS)

November 14, 2025
To my dearest Anet Margot, You carved out space for us to dream, process, cry, vent, ideate; while you listened. You held your tiny theatre for my sadness and my joy, a stage for my voice to be heard. Always generous, creative and compassionate, my neuro-d-sister triggered spontaneity and sparks. I will cherish our memories of traveling the Yucatan, performing across Los Angeles, cycling over Portland's waterways, and making friends with a local squirrel colony. Though we only met a few short years ago, your effervescent energy and signature dance moves tether me to your soul forever 💕

Deb

December 2, 2025

Dear Anet,
We are very sad that you are no longer with us. You were my first cousin, and since I have no siblings, you were always like a substitute sister to me. We fondly remember your visits here in Küssnacht and deeply regret that we only kept in touch with you by telephone in recent years. We will certainly think of you often.

Thomas and Monika Ris

My Memorial Statement on Anet’s Passing
Paul Kirsch

Avatar of Tara | Noble Spirit of Terpsichore | Force of Nature | Performance Artist of the First Water | Tight Rope Walker Between Worlds | Soul on Fire Touched by Blessed Rage


“And you want to travel with her, and you want to travel blind, and you know that she will trust you for you’ve touched her perfect body with your mind”. -Suzanne, Leonard Cohen.

“I’ve seen fire and I’ve seen rain. I’ve seen sunny days that I thought would never end. I’ve seen lonely times when I could not find a friend. But I always thought that I’d see you again.” Fire and Rain, James Taylor

Yo conocimiento tus remolinos. (I know your swirls) [paraphrase from Gloria Anzaldua- Luz en Lo Oscuro]

“The difference between life and death is academic” - Terence McKenna.

I knew Anet for a short time in the late 1980s early 1990s but my memories of our interactions remain vivid and detailed. As others have expressed, in terms of their own experience, she remains a part of my being.

There is a rather large remnant of old world cartography here as will be evidenced in the proceeding images and text.

There is a question of the right approach to the other wordly.

Anet and I met while we were both video artists (a largely forgotten art form that was quite vital at the time) editing in West Hollywood at EZTV. This was before the age of digital video when things were still done with large, expensive 3/4” video editing and playback machines.

Around this time, the Long Beach Museum of Art had a grant to which we both applied (which Anet won— and I did not). And so, due to the competition between peers, we became friends in a somewhat strained if mutually respectful way. ‘Frenemies’ in modern parlance.

I asked her out for dinner at a Thai restaurant in Venice. It was then I learned that we had things in common: transplants from New York, (specifically NYU— I got my BFA there in documentary film; she dance). We knew some of the same people in the independent NY video and dance scene. I had been an assistant cameraman on some dance shoots in the East Village at La Mama. There were also some commonalities of background. I had gone to high school in India and learned sitar and tabla (she mentioned Christopher played sarod); I am of Jewish ancestry, I lean left politically. So there was some connection with these circle of friends, geographical points, values and personal history.

I was starting to see a commonality of temperament: fierce and fragile; intense and sensitive; perfectionist and ambitious; a tendency to go from hyperfunctionality to hyperdysfunctionality.

While both editing at EZTV, she mentioned that she was organizing a show of independent video art in East L.A. at that time.

I went and an unusual thing happened: There were four or so rows of empty metal folding chairs facing towards the screen. While the adults were chatting and mingling, a young black child wondered about. Anet picked up this child and put the child on her lap. I wasn’t clear whether Anet knew the mother, perhaps so. The child’s mother was around and didn’t seem to mind and the child was relaxed and unphased. The image stuck indelibly in my head and I did a folk art painting of it.

This image and a number of non-ordinary events and attempts at capturing them visually could have come directly out of Breton’s surrealist novel, Nadja.

Anet had a way of shifting your thinking. I’ll call these little, rapid, verbal exchanges ‘pivots’.

I had a very tiny apartment. I invited her over for a meal. As I was preparing the meal in the kitchen part of the studio apartment I asked if she wanted to help. She started swiftly cutting onions into very, very fine bits; the intensity a little scary. As I was pouring glasses of apple juice, I spilled some and awkwardly went to clean it up. She responded with something like: ‘Poise, not perfection, is what matters’. (There’s something in the wisdom of a dancer in this remark).

Pivot.

I think at some point here toward the end of the meal, she asked me point blank, “What do you want?”

I then rather foolishly blurted out what I did not want: “Intellectual intimacy”.

But I did also mean “intellectual” because of what I felt were indeed a number of similar aesthetic interests.

Angry: ’No, emotional intimacy is more important than intellectual intimacy’ or words to that effect, she said very directly.

Pivot.

A kind of checkmate on her part of which there were many, powered by her intensity.

Walking outside after the meal she said, “If you want to get to know me, you’ll have to learn how to play.” Paying close attention to Every. Word. She. Said. —As one always did when listening to Anet, I said: “What do you mean?”. She thought a moment and said coolly, “Like play paddle ball at the beach.”

Pivot.

The next morning, first thing, as the local toy and gift shop owner was opening the door with her key, I bought wooden paddles and a ball. Around noon in the glaring sun we played a very brief (~8 minute) game of paddle ball on Venice beach. She left quickly.

Pivot.

Randomly, or perhaps not-so-randomly, as I was walking her back to her car, I mentioned a line in a book I had been reading that was popular among the young cognoscenti of the time, Physical Culture. The line went: “She [the character in the book] said things that could be interpreted two ways and didn’t mean either.” (I felt that this was a parallel to Anet’s thinking and again I blurted it out, with a little less thought than I should have.

But she was intrigued and asked what the book was about. I told her it was about a masochist. She was very interested in the book and said she would get it. I regretted bringing it up.

Rapport not being there between us at that moment and ignoring abundant social cues, I went ahead and told her of an idea I had, gagging on my words as I spoke from the push/pull of things.

I said that she had a striking face and asked if I could take her picture. I felt there was a legitimate rationale here given our common interest in photography/videography. I wanted to experiment with dark green filters and black and white film, a visual effect I had seen that creates a nice high contrast, old-time look to images. I suggested we meet at the Bronson Canyon caves the next Saturday mid-morning. I was surprised when she agreed. On Friday evening, I picked up the equipment from a camera rental store. (cont'd)

Liebe Anet, wir sind sehr traurig, dass du nicht mehr bei uns bist. Du warst meine 1. Cousine und da ich keine Geschwister habe, warst du immer wie eine Ersatzschwester für mich. Gerne erinnern wir uns an deine Besuche hier in Küsnacht und bedauern es sehr, nur noch telefonisch Kontakt mit dir gehabt zu haben. Wir werden sicher noch oft an dich denken.
Monika und Thomas Ris

Rest in Peace my dearest Anet and may the cosmic dance be the best everlasting part! ❤️👍✌️

To my dearest Anet Margot, You carved out space for us to dream, process, cry, vent, ideate; while you listened. You held your tiny theatre for my sadness and my joy, a stage for my voice to be heard. Always generous, creative and compassionate, my neuro-d-sister triggered spontaneity and sparks. I will cherish our memories of traveling the Yucatan, performing across Los Angeles, cycling over Portland's waterways, and making friends with a local squirrel colony. Though we only met a few short years ago, your effervescent energy and signature dance moves tether me to your soul forever 💕