Charlotte Balla | Contributing Photographer

What does it look like to come together? In the face of uncertainty and an indeterminable future, how can we come to terms with our anxiety? How do we experience the passage of time? What is it to wonder? When gazing at the stage during the Performing Arts Department’s (PAD) recent showcase, “something is happening,” one approaches such questions during an artistic display of curiosity and future-oriented inquiry. 

From Nov. 14 to 16, the Washington University Dance Theatre put on a live showcase featuring five different performances, including choreography from resident artists Elinor Harrison and David Marchant, graduate student Liz Lloyd, and guest artists Ron K. Brown and Xi Zhao. According to Artistic Director David Marchant, each performance explored concepts of the moment, an unknowable future, curiosity, and the “evocative feeling of anticipation that something is happening.”

The first performance, “Nocturne for Eight,” was filled with outstretched arms and silky, blue skirts. Choreographed by Loyd, its gentle rhythm is paired elegantly with Franz Schubert’s “Die Nacht,” which translates to “the night.” As a calm midnight cello tune hummed, dancers folded into arrangements and seeped into the peaceful melody in the style of ballet. Gracefully, they moved in and out of alignment like constellations in a starry sky and spoke to an acceptance of the impermanence of life. As dancers left the stage and returned, the transience of shape and form surfaced amid strums of soothing guitar. Just as this piece combined classical and neoclassical ballet styles, the combination of tranquility with change flowed as classically as a Van Gogh painting, balancing movement with harmony.

“Where We Meet” went next, choreographed by Zhao in collaboration with the dancers, and told a journey of animosity transforming into unity. At first, the story feels dystopian. Performers start by pushing each other down as they stare up into a bright, white light. Their monochromatic outfits distinguish two groups clad in black or white, and as the first track plays, movements are fast, rash, and staccato. Dancers push, pull, and grab each other in an effort to achieve a better position or some clearer view of the light. Next, pairs are formed, and it appears almost as if they are dueling. By way of hand and fist, they hold each other down until, gradually, something shifts. The second track plays, and a plucky, peculiar violin replaces mechanical thumps. From pushes come embraces, and from restraints come offerings;  dancers lead their partners across the stage with cupped hands to their mouths. They then wrap around their partner, presenting a candid and undeniable sense of unity and symbiosis. In one final scene, performers arrange themselves to hold each other up, reaching closer to the light above.

Charlotte Balla | Contributing Photographer

“Mutterances,” choreographed by Harrison in collaboration with the dancers, followed. This performance stood out with its personality, eccentricity, and experimentation with sound. As it began, dancers huddled around a microphone and observed one performer as she twisted, arched, moved, and stretched in a contemporary style. In mismatching neon outfits, they commented and clamored over her form, releasing eager praise. In its program notes, this piece distinguishes “utter” (to make known) from “mutter” (to complain in a quiet or indirect way), although the two seem to meld together in the piece. As several acts unfold, the audience is confronted with human tendencies to moan and groan in exhaustion. As the piece progressed, performers vocalized and mimicked percussive sounds to inform their movements. They then began to speak, voicing concerns, plans, and complaints. By the end, they all shouted “I’m tired!” before resting their heads on pillows to sleep. 

After “Mutterances” came “Nucleus,” which differed in style but echoed the concepts of unity from the previous pieces. Directed and choreographed by Marchant, it featured additional movement materials made by dancers. The dancers wore matching black and white gradient dresses with loose, shifting streams of fabric hanging free. To the tune of a rich violin hymn, dancers spiraled and spun together and apart, mimicking the flow of electrons and atoms through the air. Relating the “part” to the “whole,” dancers formed bonds with one another, facing each other, standing still despite being fixed in the middle of a rotating spiral of energy. In “Nucleus,” the abstract performance feels ubiquitous, or universal. The dance ended with the rotation of one dancer slowly finding their way back to form a circular formation. 

Charlotte Balla | Contributing Photographer

The last performance, “Four Corners,” felt like a celebration or an epiphany. Dancers wore warm and earthly hues, freely stomping and swaying to a percussive rhythm. Despite heavy, grounded gestures, performers matched the beat of the chanting music and projected a sense of effortless confidence. Choreographed by Brown and set on WashU students by Arcell Cabuag, the movements echoed both West African and modern dance influences. The music and choreography were inviting, ending the showcase on a hopeful note — perhaps to say, despite the weight we all carry, we may proceed with peace and a curious mind.

“something is happening” does not ignore the uncertainties we face. Instead, it explores different worlds of thought that allow us to ask deeper questions about ourselves and how we react to the directional flow of time. In worlds of changing constellations, internal expression, orbiting moments, and spiritual grounding, something is definitely happening. Now, what happens next?