The Barnard Dance Department presented four incredible pieces over the weekend. 

A rainbow, hyperrealistic heart projected on the back of the stage. Slow walks, purposeful, immediate. The low, entrancing sound of a singing bowl, heard before it’s seen, then so close I could reach out and touch it. Walks fade into slow, sensual movements, hips swaying, rolling, gliding, a slow-motion, isolated rave.

So begins MX Oops’ “UnFiNiShEd aNiMaL: PARTY PEOPLE (in the place to be),” the first piece in this year’s Barnard Dance Department fall performance at New York Live Arts. With choreography by Oops in collaboration with the performers and with guest choreographers Jason A. Rodriguez and Rinor Zymberi, the piece is an explosion of light and sound. A video (Oops) projected on the back screen features inverted color, kaleidoscope-like clips, and intentional glitches; subjects include bird’s-eye views of the earth and the dancers themselves. Patterns of light (Tim Cryan) stream across the stage as twelve performers in brightly patterned (down to their shoes!), but otherwise conventional attire dance, sing, and chant. 

The distinct sense of witnessing a party continues, as dancers stumble as if they’re drunk, flow between individual explorations of range and power and amoeba-like mass movement, and exhibit wonderfully precise vogueing or hip-hop. “Make it make sense,” screams three dancers into handheld microphones, over and over, towards the end of the piece. MX Oops pits expressive movement against the incomprehensibility of the world, and here, movement wins.  

Iréne Hultman’s “episodes,” created in collaboration with the dancers, is comparatively simple, but no less wonderful for it. Comfortable, individualized clothing (Liz Prince) gives each dancer an easy distinctiveness as they weave in and out of small groups. Grooving, flowing, rolling through the stage, the dancers parallel, mirror, reflect each other, then break, unite, meander. An incredible duet between Ty Nagvajara, CC ‘25, and Rylie Gabriel, BC ‘27, has velvety-smooth lifts, draped in soft shadowy light, that feel magical. 

Later, in what feels like a particularly good game of freeze-dance, all fifteen dancers, collectively on stage for the first time, whirl and push and spin, only in unison in the moments of stillness. Slowly, imperceptibly, they tune in to each other, patterns picking up other dancers, grabbing them from their individualized, beautiful chaos into something bigger. The piece ends with Louis Armstrong’s “What A Wonderful World,” with simple touch steps, lines that break away, and dancers that come to face each other, their smiles uncontainable. It’s pure joy, and it’s beautiful to watch. 

The second act began with “Ostinato,” by Gabrielle Lamb. Soft piano, dark lighting, ballet-like movement, and gray costumes give the piece a serious air. It’s a dynamic, impressively technical piece, its formations constantly breaking and reforming. Canons along a diagonal shift into excavating, searching contractions, reminding me almost inexplicably of fractals.

A duet is the centerpiece of this piece, too, this one between Hannah Wineinger, GS ‘24, and Idea Reid, BC ‘25, whose limbs flow between each other, becoming a single entity, forming a yin/yang symbol with their arms in a moment and instantly breaking free. They’re the very definition of intertwining as they contort into each other. Later, Wineinger’s movement is the impetus to bring other dancers out of stillness, and stunning waves of movement rush over each other. It’s a perfect encapsulation of beautiful artistry.

If MX Oops’ piece was the perfectly wild beginning to the night, Roderick George’s “RESET” is the perfect closing. The only piece not choreographed on the dancers—it was “originally commissioned by Canadian Contemporary Dance Theatre in 2018,” according to the program—it’s almost overwhelmingly wonderful. In the blackness before the piece begins, dancers move along the back wall, their light costumes giving the distinct appearance of ghosts. Jellyfish-like, flowing, gauzy, pants and black socks (costume design by George and production by Krista Dowson) against the black floor and backdrop keep that otherworldly sense: for several minutes, it seems like the dancers are floating.

It’s hinging, robotic, and rhythmic; then it’s smooth, balletic, breathy; finally, it’s both, at the same time, a dancer writhing internally to one side as a mass creates new music with their beats and stomps and wrenching contractions. The soloists switch, the masses change formations and sizes, but again and again, the contrast remains. In the final moments, a dancer walks back, hand up, stop or wait or hello, as two others fold into each other, and pull apart. 

In all four pieces, Barnard’s dancers had wonderful dynamics of movement and range, easily shining in wildly different styles and visions. This was an incredible night to witness, and I can’t wait for next semester!

Barnard dancers via program cover