“We started talking about what it means to dream,” Renee Jaworski tells me over the phone while her dance company rehearses in the other room. “What does it mean to ‘sleep on something’? When you go to bed trying to solve a problem, and then you sleep on it, and you wake up, and either the problem just goes away because it wasn’t really a problem in the first place, or you have a new idea of how to approach it. There are things that are happening in your brain—and in your psyche—while you sleep that affect the real world. And sometimes you have anxiety dreams, right? You’ll be like—Oh, I dreamt my house was on fire last night. That’s definitely because I’m nervous about The Joyce next week,” she laughs. “You know? There are reasons that you have specific dreams.”
This conversation reminds me of one I might have had in a psychology class or with a close friend or maybe even a therapist. But Jaworski (Executive/Co-Artistic Director of Pilobolus) and I have just met, and she is simply telling me about the inspiration for a new piece the Company will be showing at The Joyce Theater as part of a three-week engagement (July 11-30) marking the conclusion of its Big Five-OH! 50th Anniversary tour. The rapid depth of the conversation shouldn’t surprise me, though, because Pilobolus’s dancers are notoriously cerebral.
The Company began at Dartmouth College in 1971 when a cross-country skier studying English literature, a fencer studying philosophy, and a pre-med pole vaulter all met in a dance composition class taught by a radical young woman. The Company has always been academically curious and interdisciplinary, with equal parts strapping bodies and big brains. Even their name is fascinating. Who knew there was a phototropic fungus whose spores could accelerate from 0 to 45 mph in the first millimeter of its flight? Not me, but they did.
Don’t get me wrong. Pilobolus is not at all elitist. They are fun and accessible and very down-to-earth. And they are beloved. Over the years, Pilobolus has performed on Broadway, at the Oscars and the Olympic games. They have been featured on The Late Show with Stephen Colbert, NBC’s TODAY Show, MTV’s Video Music Awards, The Harry Connick Show and ABC’s The Chew, among others. In 2015, the Company was named one of Dance Heritage Coalition’s “Irreplaceable Dance Treasures.”
In 2011, Jaworski and Co-Artistic Director Matt Kent were chosen by the founding Artistic Directors to lead the Connecticut-based Company “into and beyond its post-succession evolution.” They have done that with skill and grace, and this tour is a testament to their leadership. The Big Five-OH! honors Pilobolus’s past while also offering glimpses into its future. It is a mix of fan favorites and new hits, featuring three New York premieres.
The Big Five-OH!
Both programs begin before they begin, with the Company flaunting its rebellious spirit by warming up right in front of us: bare stage, curtain up. At first glance, the six people look more like athletes than dancers. They wear elbow and knee pads, and their bodies are pure muscle. They drape each other over their shoulders and walk around. They stretch and do push-ups. Then, like teammates before a game, they form a huddle and talk—this part is not for us to hear—before leaning back into a primal scream and running off the stage to get ready for the real performance.
Program A
The program opens with a bang. Primus blasts over the empty stage, where a large mat reminiscent of a fighting ring waits. And waits. And then six heads appear from the wings, the bodies wiggle-worming their way toward center. This is Megawatt (2004), choreographed by founding member Jonathan Wolken (1949-2010) and restaged by Jaworski and Kent in his memory.
The dancers move like electrons, like electricity, like electrocution. Then they throw themselves and each other to the ground, again and again, bodies slamming in play-fights. Any normal human who attempted 30 seconds of this choreography would end up in the hospital. Thankfully, these dancers are anything but typical, though Kent did say in a recent interview that Megawatt is a piece that the dancers must rehearse frequently to stay in shape “or they will be throwing up in the wings.” I do not doubt this at all. They come with all the energy—all the pow! bam! wow!—and it is a phenomenal feat. In the end, they are panting and half-laughing, and you might wonder how they could possibly keep going, but they do.
Next, while the rest of the Company gets a break (frantically changing backstage out of one costume and into another), “Dance Captain” Nathaniel Buchsbaum performs a solo from the Empty Suitor (1980), another Pilobolus classic, choreographed by founding member Michael Tracy and set to Ben Webster’s “Sweet Georgia Brown.” The piece shows off another thing the Company does so well: humor. This particular brand of theatrical comedy is slapstick-y, almost Chaplin-esque, and full of props and antics. It is a delight.
Evening Song (2023) is the Company’s “brand-spanking-new” piece about dreams that Jaworski was telling me about, which premiered only a few weeks ago at the American Dance Festival. The sound score, inspired by the disorienting act of falling asleep, was made by Jad Abumrad (of Radiolab fame). The choreography was created in collaboration with Derion Loman (former Company apprentice and dancer, and finalist on NBC’s America’s Got Talent and World of Dance) and partner Madison Olandt. The sextet is still finding its feet but is at its best in the creative group lifts which appear both aquatic and ethereal at the same time. Thom Weaver’s dusky lighting creates a mid-night, soporific mood.
Another New York premiere, The Ballad (2022), follows. It was created in collaboration with Darlene Kascak of the Schaghticoke Tribal Nation. Kascak is the Education Director & Traditional Native American Storyteller of The Institute of American Indian Studies in Washington, CT. The piece grew out of a longer work, Bloom, created during the pandemic and performed in a forest. Though the piece has been shortened and moved indoors, it retains an outdoor feel with the help of Brian Tovar’s lighting, Yannick Godts’ props, and Valerie St. Pierre Smith’s costumes. The soundscape, created by Ben Sollee, weaves together Kascak’s stories of her own life with those of Sky Woman Falling and the Wendigo. Marlon Feliz’s performance is especially soulful.
The program ends with Branches (2017), another piece that was originally performed outdoors (this time at Jacob’s Pillow Dance Festival’s Inside/Out Series). The sextet is so fun. The dancers prove once again that they are something more than human. This time they are frogs, then birds. Exquisite creatures. Liz Prince’s bare-minimum costumes show off their powerful bodies, and Weaver’s lighting and David Van Tieghem’s sound design fully transport us to a rainforest.
Program B
This program begins with another fan favorite: On the Nature of Things (2014). Like the Roman poet and philosopher Lucretius’s first-century BC poem of the same name, the trio examines the creation myth, divine intervention, and the very human fear of death and eternal oblivion. From the beginning, when Buchsbaum lays Feliz on a pedestal/altar/pillar and Quincy Ellis (the Company’s other Dance Captain) slithers over, it’s clear that something Adam and Eve-y is going on. The dancers spend most of the piece sharing the three-foot-wide pillar, slowly intertwining in poses and logic-defying lifts that hearken to ancient Greek bas-reliefs and Renaissance paintings, their bodies statuesque in Neil Peter Jampolis’ chiaroscuro lighting design. Vivaldi and mezzo-soprano Clare McNamara add a touch of the holy to the already exquisite performance.
Next, Walklyndon (1971), another signature work created by the founding members, offers some much-needed comic relief. There is no music, just the sound of footsteps and the occasional grunt or vocalization as the six dancers bump into each other while walking across the stage. The movements are pedestrian, theatrical, and earthy. Kitty Daly’s costumes—yellow unitards and bright gym shorts—add to the absurdity of the scene. It is simply silly, and my cheeks hurt afterward from laughing.
The third New York premiere, Awaken Heart (2023), follows. The quartet, which Jaworski told me is “a reminder of the transience of life and friendships and relationships” and Kent describes it as being about “the way that souls bump into each other throughout different perhaps multiverses, lifetimes”, is lovely. The choreography made in collaboration with former Company dancer Gaspard Louis shifts between the fast-paced reality of relationships and the slow-motion nostalgia of memories. As always with Pilobolus, the lifts are top-notch. Michael Wall’s musical score is beautiful (The guy knows what he’s doing—he composes around 200 new commissions a year!) as is Diane Ferry Williams’ soft lighting. Zack Weiss gives a standout performance with his tender partnering and muscular grace.
Untitled (1975) is another vintage Pilobolus delight created by its founding members. Feliz and Hannah Klinkman are charming in their long, rich gowns designed by Daly and Malcolm McCormick. The gowns are long enough to reach the floor even when the women stand on two of their fellow dancers’ shoulders, which they do for most of the piece while being courted by two regular-sized men. The result is surreal and hilarious, a circus act with all the first-date nerves.
Another short and sweet piece that made my cheeks hurt from smiling is Behind the Shadows (2021), inspired by their iconic Shadowland (2009) and its original cast. It’s not often that I giggle during a performance at The Joyce, but when I saw the shadow of an elephant appear on the screen (thanks to Godts’ ingenious lighting) and then saw how it had been made with human bodies, I giggled. In David Poe’s song “Joy”, which plays throughout, he sings: “If it gives you joy, then you don’t have to explain it.” I agree.
The program closes out with one more Company classic: Sweet Purgatory (1991). It is self-consciously dramatic—how can it not be when it’s set to music by Shostakovich?—and full of fluid, impeccable groupwork. The sextet is a showcase of the Company’s ability to trust and support each other and move as one organism, which this group does so well.
So, which program should you see? Both! If that’s not possible: either. They are equally enjoyable and impressive, equally unforgettable.
But first, let’s go back to Jaworski’s dream about her house being on fire. She is correct that, according to popular dream analysis, a house on fire is often a sign of anxiety. However, fire can also be a sign of transformation, purification, and renewal. It can symbolize a kind of awakening. And after seeing these performances, I believe there is a rebirth happening here. Not just for Jaworski, but for Pilobolus too, and for all of us who get to watch them do their thing.
The Schedule
Program A: Tue, 7/25 at 7:30 p.m.; Wed, 7/26 at 7:30 p.m.; Sat, 7/29 at 2 p.m. & 8 p.m.
Program B: Thu, 7/27 at 8 p.m.; Fri, 7/28 at 8 p.m.; Sat, 7/22 at 8 p.m.; Sun, 7/23 & 7/30 at 2 p.m.
