Photo: Maria Baranova
Photo: Maria Baranova

Kyle Marshall’s Film “Stellar” Takes Us On A Voyage

Lauren Putty White

Kyle Marshall Choreography presented an other-worldly dance film, Stellar, as a part of the Fringe Festival this year. Knowing the inspiration came from the transcendent music of Sun Ra and Alice Coltrane, I was already drawn to the theme of this work. The film welcomes me with dancers in tie dye rainbow hoodies and sweatpants, sparkles twinkling, subtly accentuating their colorful clothing. In slow motion, Kyle Marshall, Bree Breeden, and Ariana Speight carve through the space, their limbs controlled and sustained. Pause, live, breathe, move, repeat. Watching the dancers create pathways with their extremities pulls me into their trance. They are fluid in their locomotion, pensive and internally focused. Layered sounds of live instrumentation by Kwami Winfield permeate my ears as the dancers physically echo these sounds with ease and articulation. They walk in circles, moving one direction, not following each other, still heading somewhere, to another planet perhaps.

Suddenly the rhythm makes an abrupt change, and I am overpowered by the clapping of the dancers’ hands and live percussion by Winfield. The sound dictates the rhythmic pulse of every step and hip roll. Each dancer takes a turn in the middle of the floor while the others stand back and accompany Winfield. The soloists travel against and through the beat. A pleasant piano solo catches me by surprise as Marshall’s head takes a windy path, following the piano’s melodic indecision. Lights dim as the dancers seem to take on different physical forms that blend like chameleons into the space, moving along the ground, up against the wall, and in between stage lights. Space is definitely the place.

The dancers are now wearing the hoodies on their heads, and they seem to have transformed into something ethereal, not of this realm. I am convinced they are catching stars, walking on air. The camera rotates and I am beginning to see double, like there are twice as many dancers on stage than there were before. Stillness. It’s still the same three bodies. The soundscape is forever evolving, transferring me to another dimension, ranging from electronic tracks, undertones of the keyboard, and overtones of the synthesizer. I snap out of it, and it’s over.

Stellar helped me escape from reality for a little while, and I was grateful for the lift!

Stellar, Kyle Marshall Choreography, Fringe Festival 2021, Sept. 24-25

Share this article

Lauren Putty White

Lauren Putty White has performed internationally with the world-renowned Parsons dance company, PHILADANCO, and has choreographed for BalletX, Grace Dance Theatre, Bryn Mawr College, and Drexel University. Lauren co-founded Putty Dance Project, with her musician husband, producing socially conscious critically acclaimed works. She is a former staff writer with thINKingDANCE.

PARTNER CONTENT

Keep Reading

Rave, or Revelation? Celibate Orgies & Mixed Messaging in The Testament of Ann Lee

Lauren Berlin

In this cinematic story of the Shakers, contradictory messages about the body compete with ecstatic movement sequences

A scene from the 2025 film, The Testament of Ann Lee: Ann Lee (Amanda Seyfried) opens her arms wide and looks on a slight upward diagonal, lips gently parted, gaze forward, or perhaps “beyond.” The reverent gesture takes up the whole horizontal span of the image. Lee dresses modestly in a muted cerulean dress with long sleeves. A cream colored scarf covers her head and wraps around her bust in an X. The image cuts off just beneath the scarf.
Photo: Courtesy of Disney and Searchlight Pictures

Decomposing Mediation: On FRANK

Writings from tD's Emerging Writer's Fellowship

Mulunesh, a Black woman in a thick, hooded raincoat, stands crookedly with her weight shifted over one foot. Her arms are lifted out from her sides and her hands are in fists. She is lit with harsh, bright lights, and boxed in on three sides with heavy transparent plastic. Behind her, a sheet of white marley and two red cables dangle limply, as if caught mid collapse. The floor beneath her feet, made of the same white marley, is spotted with piles of black paper confetti.
Photo: Bas de Brouwer