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A woman is in a headstand, while a man stands nearby with his arms raised in shadow to her right. Both wear tan, form-fitting clothes with strips of white plastic running along the outside of their limbs and backs. On the white walls are unusual glass sculptures that look like waterways.
Photo: Natalie Moore

The Sand Is Alive

Brendan McCall

Dance, glass, and music invite a deeper contemplation of sand

Seen from a low angle against a black background, a performer wears black blazer and bright red shorts with a black drawstring. Crinkled yellow cellophon covers their mouth and cascades down their chest, with a loose flap jutting to the left. They look down toward the camera, one hand raised near their abdomen and the other hanging beside their thigh.
Photo: Pep Casadevall

Cryptic Precision: On Vanessa Kamp’s ‘Houndstooth’

Mang Su

'Houndstooth' unleashes the subversive power of parody with bewildering precision.

Nayara Lopes, a Brazilian Black woman, performs in the ballet Swan Lake. As Odette (the White San), she wears an ornate white costume, with tutu and headdress.
Photo: Arian Molina Soca

The Real Work of Undoing Racism in Ballet

Rachel DeForrest Repinz

After a painful whiteface incident at the Finnish National Ballet, Principal Dancer Nayara Lopes returns to Philadelphia Ballet.

A hand holds a well-worn book over a sunlit wooden floor, with the shadow of a spider plant beside it. Torn yellow paper scraps stick out as bookmarks. The white cover reads “Interdisciplinary Laboratory of Art Nature and Dance, a Field Guide to iLanding,” above an abstract charcoal drawing of circles, arches, towers, scratches, and stacked squares.
Photo: Emilee Lord

With, Between, Through

Emilee Lord

20 Years of iLanding

Tissues are scattered all over the black box theater floor. Upstage a white wire waste paper basket sits upside down and empty. On a huge pile of tissues lies a woman in black with yellow crocs, yellow sleeves sticking out of her coat, a yellow scarf and white and yellow pompom knit hat. She stares up at the ceiling. She has a pair of red crocs on her chest.
Photo: Maria Baranova

It would seem we need each other

Emilee Lord

The GREEF of Christina Gelsone at Baryshnikov Arts Center

Five dancers in Awakening Lion hold ornate lion heads against a dark stage. White, blue, gold, and red heads form an arc above a black lion head held by one of the story’s heroes (a lion dance champion) in a deep side lunge at the front. The performers wear layered, earth-toned tunics with wrapped forearms and lower legs.
Photo: Guangdong Song and Dance Theatre

When Tradition Takes the Stage, I Stop to Watch

Ziying Cui

Two Chinese dance dramas make me reconsider what I call “my culture.”

On a white background, the words Dance/USA are written in the middle of a circle of blue and green dots.
Photo: Dance/USA

Policy and Precarity: Thoughts on the End of Dance/USA’s Fellowship to Artists

Brendan McCall

American dance versus COVID, capitalism, and our present-dance culture wars

Zaquia Salinas kneels on a yoga mat in a naturally-lit studio with wood walls and flooring. She embodies a grounded, punk energy, with a half-shaved head and an all-black outfit of a muscle shirt and capri-length workout pants. Her hands gesture out from her body as she speaks to a class of participants who are similarly seated on yoga mats with blocks surrounding them. The participants include one black-haired individual whose head is foregrounded in the image, one white-haired individual in t-shirt and shorts on the opposite side of the room, and a brown-haired person laying down on their stomach reading from their journal as Zaquia speaks.
Photo: WATS (You've Scene Enough Productions)

Teaching Embodied Activism

ankita

A conversation with Zaquia Salinas

A group of dancers performing in a high-energy dance class under purple lighting. A blonde dancer in a black crop top and heels strikes a low pose in the center foreground, surrounded by smiling group members dancing in high-heeled boots and athletic wear.
Photo: Lauren Berlin

Healing in My Heels: On the Choreography of Womanhood

Lauren Berlin

A dancer reflects on womanhood, a twenty-year-old memory, and the difference between being watched and being witnessed.

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