Tracing Relationships: Men in Dance Showcase Review
by Davianna Griffin
Photo by Bill Gorman
MEN IN DANCE Choreographers Showcase returns in its 6th iteration, featuring local choreographers Marlo Martin and Robbi A. Moore alongside Madeline Max Roman (D.C.), Derek Crescenti (NYC), and Will Jessup (Vancouver BC). As always, Men in Dance features male performers, but the mission of their biannual showcase format is to highlight the feedback process and support the development of the choreographer’s work. Audience members receive five cards to express thoughts and feelings for each of the five works, followed by a moderated discussion between a panel of local artists and the choreographers, sprinkled with a few audience reaction written cards read aloud. Getting to witness the conversation between the panelists and the choreographers helps me to learn more about the choreographers’ motivations, and adds another layer to watching these works.
Performers Sean O’Bryan and Omar Ramirez stand tall under a dim blue light to begin The Depth of My Shadow(s), choreographed by Marlo Martin. With their faces in shadow, quick snapping hand gestures, gravity-defying jumps, and cat-and-mouse-like use of the stage sync perfectly with the swelling otherworldly music. I notice myself watching the shadows of the performers morph as the lighting shifts over time. The heavily shadowed stage, created with lighting designer Rebecca Blackwell, ties into the theme of the work. “The performers are the same person. And they’re shadows of each other, but within themselves,” Martin shares in the talkback. I am able to see that come through with the duet, mostly moving together throughout the piece, and having brief moments to explore individually before returning to each other.
This place, choreographed by Robbi A. Moore, feels like a gentle embrace from the warm-toned lighting, pastel costumes, and genuine connection between performers Ben Swenson-Klatt and Gavin Besteman. Whether grabbing and pulling each other’s forearms or playfully shoving one another, each touch is meaningful. The different stages of a relationship play out over the course of this work, physicalizing the tender and fragile nature of human connection. Moore isn’t present at the talkback, but the performers share that “Moore really wants it to be very external… to bring the audience in as they evolve out of the snow globe effect of this duet that is very introspective.” I am locked in from the beginning as the relationship grows from the honeymoon phase and evolves through individual solo moments. With costume changes to assist in traveling through time, the two ultimately reunite, despite being in a different place than where they started.
Madeline Max Roman’s Honeysuckle begins as the lights lift to reveal Dylan Lambert standing at the corner of a square-shaped piece of artificial turf with a watering can. He pours water on himself, and the acoustic guitar strings and voice of Valentina Roman, also seated onstage, fill the theatre. The other performer, Levi Coy, enters, and the duet begins. As the dancers share weight, rustle, tussle, and wrap around one another on the turf, I am transported to the rural countryside where the two are safe to be together and live in their full queerness. However, that feeling is fleeting as the dancers begin to slip away from each other over the course of the piece. The thread that stays constant throughout this work is the music. Madeline Max Roman credits her musician wife, Valentina Roman, with the idea of a tiny switch in the lyrics over the course of the song. “My mother always says not to eat the honeysuckle…If I do, I will get sick.” Later becomes, “I would be sick, and she always knew I would be sick.” I don’t even notice the shift in the lyrics, but I feel the uneasiness. The peek inside this haven begins to sour as the powers that be pull the two performers apart physically, but not from each other’s hearts.
Will Jessup’s dynamic command in his solo work Nothing Else, This is it, Enough instantly draws me in. His first drop towards the floor feels like the weight of the world is on his back. His liquid-like undulations are out of control and contained simultaneously. The energetic leg kicks, broken up by vertical flipping hand gestures and mouthing of words, feel like being inside the brain of someone in mental distress. In an instant, his grounded floorwork transforms into a full-body convulsion that he whips out of. He sits and looks at the audience in still confusion. While I interpret this piece as watching a person in mental distress, Jessup shares that “he is really interested in seeing how the sensation of being overwhelmed by all these questions can be transitioned into a physicality.”
The trio of Jake Bone, Derek Cresenti, and Sean O’Bryan walks into the space with strength and clarity. Trailing, choreographed by Crescenti, emphasizes trust and connection between the trio as they lift, flip each other upside down, and wrap around one another without hesitation. The three roll over one another like a tumbleweed across the stage–the weight sharing between them indicating a closeness, but not necessarily in a romantic way. I am invested in deciphering this relationship triangle, determined to know the nature of their connection. In the end, when Crescenti leaves the other two performers in a pool of light, I am still unsure of their connection. And I think maybe the type of relationship between the three doesn’t matter, the connection they share is what’s valuable.
Men In Dance 2025 Choreographers Showcase took place September 26-28, 2025 at Erickson Theatre. Here is a link to the Digital Program. For more information, visit the Men In Dance Website.
