Image Description: Alice Sheppard and Tatiana Cholewa face off. Alice is balancing on super short crutches, legs bent and folded under herself, tops of her toes grazing the floor. Tati’s legs are also bent and folded under, but Tati is a bit lower than Alice, with their hands planted on the ground. They peer at each other with curiosity and intensity. Alice is a multiracial Black woman with short curly hair, Tati is a white person with very short hair; they both wear silver pants and shimmery black tops.
Photo: Cherylynn Tsushima

The Future is Disabled (and wearing silver fringe)

Rachel DeForrest Repinz

The Next TiMes both brings us into the future and holds us firmly in the present. Described not as a performance or a concert, but as a “multimedia disability arts experience” by Kinetic Light, the nearly two-hour-long experience presents “access as art” from the second you enter through to the end of the final bow.

Masked up and walking through the doors of New York Live Arts, I am immediately greeted by a sensory table stocked with props, fabric swatches, and squares of marley flooring. I feel my way through the table; sequins drag across the surface of my palms, and I plunge my hand into a bowl of feathers, which will later fall from the ceiling near the end of act two. Information about a sensory room, audio description, and other access offerings is shared by a welcoming team of access doulas and staff members.

Kinetic Light’s Alice Sheppard and Laurel Lawson are joined by Tatiana Cholewa and Kayla Hamilton as they emerge under larger-than-life silver “hats” adorned with 360 degrees of long silver foil fringe that invokes a certain kind of space-age kitsch. As the dancers twirl beneath the metallic fringe, a portal appears in the immersive projection, cast onto multiple surfaces upstage and emerging from the wings, thrusting us into an alternate universe somewhere between now and the not-so-distant future. Josh Loar’s distinctly futuristic score conjures a sense of nostalgic timelessness, though at times its shimmering vibraphones and swooping synths veer into familiar, predictable retro-futurist clichés.

No matter where in time we are, The Next TiMes is somewhere further in the future.

The First Act oscillates between an otherworldly space, where dancers roll, turn, and flick across the stage like birds in flight, and forays into line-dance-infused grooves and undulations. At times, these layers floated unmoored, leaving me searching for more.

The second act opens with a sense of curiosity and vitality I was hungry for in the first act, standing out as a defining moment of the night. Lawson appears, delicately balancing an extra-large floating ‘bubble’ on the surface of her palm as she darts between a maze of bubbles affixed to the marley floor. Sheppard, Hamilton, and Cholewa burst onto the stage, kicking, nudging, and plucking the bubbles across the floor, sending them gently off into the wings.

A duet between Sheppard and Lawson erupts into conflict, resolving with Sheppard being pulled from her wheelchair and left alone on stage. In what rises as another highlight of the evening, Kayla Hamilton emerges as a force of care, unrolling a large reflective sheet onto the floor. After dipping her toe in the ‘water,’ Hamilton launches into a gooey and propulsive solo atop the reflective ‘pond.’ The others slowly inch their way onto the stage like rocks being rolled by the tide. Hamilton perches herself atop a fellow dancer with a laid-back yet charismatic shrug that breaks the 4th wall. The first act is steeped in space-age aesthetics, while the second act allows humanness to break through–most vividly in this section through Hamilton’s small, but warm, interaction with the audience.

The performance ends with a duet by Sheppard and Lawson, who make amends for their previous clash, tenderly moving together beneath a blanket of falling white feathers. With a final embrace, the lights fade to black and the universe of The Next TiMes gently softens back into reality.

The second act fully embraces a tender dynamism that the first act floats around. By the end, The Next TiMes thoughtfully builds an immersive futuristic vision with grounded sensory, tactile, and deeply human experiences.

The Next TiMes, Kinetic Light, New York Live Arts, Oct. 9-11.

Share this article

Rachel DeForrest Repinz

Rachel DeForrest Repinz is a visually impaired artist-scholar based in Brooklyn, NY. She is an editorial board member, editor, and staff writer with thINKingDANCE.

PARTNER CONTENT

Keep Reading

Donald Byrd’s Five Alarm Dance

Brendan McCall

Donald Byrd sounds the alarm in his latest work connecting 9/11 to the crises of our current moment.

Six young dancers stand in profile, all facing right, under bloodred stagelights. They balance on their right foot, while holding their bent left leg with their left hand behind them. Their right arms are extended in front of them, their palms flexed, as if threy are saying "stop."
Photo: Steven Pisano

Bodies Exposed Under Hard Light: Encountering Fables

Yuying Chen

Virginie Brunelle's Fables reveals how bodies resist and transform.

The vast white skirt of a female dancer spreads out across the center of the stage, drawn and lifted by dancers concealed beneath it, resembling a giant wave. The dancers are constantly struggling to crawl out from within this undulating mass of soft fabric. With their upper bodies bare, they curl up on the ground, suspended in a state between weightlessness and struggle. The spotlight focuses on the white fabric and the figures at the center, plunging the surrounding space into darkness.
Photo: David Wong