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Saints and Sinners

In Jo Warren’s “All Mouth,” five dancers perform what could be an action scene from a movie with the playback speed slowed down and sound turned off. The expressions on their faces are exaggerated, their eyes eloquent. One shields her face from an attacker; another holds her throat with one hand while reaching out with the other in an imploring gesture; one throws back their head to laugh, mouth opened wide; hands squeeze into fists and punch the air, or cup around the mouth to whisper into another’s ear—all conducted in delicious, thick-as-molasses slow motion.

Performance

“All Mouth” by Jo Warren and “Extremely Chemical” by Owen Prum

Place

Out-Front! Festival, Presented by Pioneers Go East Collective, Judson Church, New York, NY, January 8, 2026

Words

Karen Hildebrand

Katerina Belmatch and Zo Williams in Owen Plum's “Extremely Chemical.” Photograph by Steven Pisano

“All Mouth” shares the evening with Owen Prum’s “Extremely Chemical” as part of Out-Front! Fest. 2026, curated by Pioneers Go East Collective, and presented in the famous sanctuary of Judson Church in Greenwich Village. OutFront! centers queer and feminist artists, and over 13 years has established itself as a prime spot to discover emerging talent. Tonight is no exception.

The two works operate in a similar manner, which when viewed back to back renders them a matched set. Prum’s work could be a sketch for Warren's oil painting—or a black and white film short that screens prior to the technicolor feature. “Extremely Chemical” is fully abstract—the program note reads as experimental nonlinear poetry—and places trained dancers next to artists of other disciplines who move in a more pedestrian manner. It opens with a cluster of four performers chatting as if at a cocktail party, unaware of a gangly Prum who stumbles and flings himself about with angular elbows and knees. A sound score pulses out anxious waves of sound. Prum scoots across the floor on his belly, then mimes a grooming routine—rubbing hands as if washing up, smoothing his hair, repeatedly. His sneakers squeak against the floor.

Katerina Belmatch and Zo Williams disengage from the chatting cluster to form a series of elegant sculptural poses that gradually expand into hopping and cartwheeling. They trot with their arms held in a balletic fifth position above their heads. Richard McDonough and Joel Watson become rock musicians staging a sound check for an imaginary band. Prum gallops holding the reins of an invisible horse. Stage lights abruptly go to black out, ending the work mid-action.

Maddie Hopfield, Meg Herzfeld, Paris Cullen, Cullan Powers, and Sofia Franklin in Jo Warren's “All Mouth.” Photograph by Steven Pisano

Maddie Hopfield, Meg Herzfeld, Paris Cullen, Cullan Powers, and Sofia Franklin in Jo Warren's “All Mouth.” Photograph by Steven Pisano

After intermission, Warren’s “All Mouth” sets up the dancers as a Botticelli painting come to life. They form a cluster of writhing bodies in despair, grabbing and clinging. When they shout together as a group, the sound cuts in and out, obscuring their words. They jolt as if pushed, then wander, bumping into one another. Two come together in a lingering kiss, then push each other away. 

Bits of narrative emerge. (A program note mentions that Warren is working with imagery of family home, suburbia, and the mythology of American life.) But it’s the muscular and vivid movement that charms me. Paris Cullen and Cullan Powers are memorable as they repeatedly fly into an embrace driven by both lust and fury. Maddie Hopfield holds up five splayed fingers in a mechanically articulated wave. She’s a smiling robot with vacant eyes wearing a skirt. Sofia Franklin and Meg Herzfeld whip and spin in a raucous duet, then present themselves as brazen streetwalkers to the first row of the audience, arms outstretched, prancing, hips jutting. Herzfeld ends the work with a long frenetic solo set to jarring music. They come so close to me, I can see the sweat beaded on their face. They turn their head and spit. The lights go out while they twirl and twirl. 

Karen Hildebrand


Karen Hildebrand is former editorial director for Dance Magazine and served as editor in chief for Dance Teacher for a decade. An advocate for dance education, she was honored with the Dance Teacher Award in 2020. She follows in the tradition of dance writers who are also poets (Edwin Denby, Jack Anderson), with poetry published in many literary journals and in her book, Crossing Pleasure Avenue (Indolent Books). She holds an MFA from the Program for Writers at Warren Wilson College. Originally from Colorado, she lives in Brooklyn.

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