Spellbound

Two performers crawl in on hands and knees wearing neon green, hooded coveralls—the lightweight papery kind made for working in a sterile environment—and clusters of balloons pinned to their backs. They unzip the suits and step out, leaving the coveralls to hover midair. Skinned of their protective coverings, the two face off as if wrestlers sizing up their opponents. She moves in closer, seeming friendly, then surprises by slapping his face. He recovers only to slap her back—and they’re off in a madcap clash of slapping and falling, rising to slap again, set to the galloping strains of Wagner’s “Ride of the Valkyries.”

Performance

Yvonne Meier: “Strega Nona”

Place

Danspace Project, St. Mark’s Church in-the-Bowery, New York, NY, November 20, 2025

Words

Karen Hildebrand

Osmani Tellez and Lisa Kusanagi in Yvonne Meier's“Strega Nona.” Photograph by Rachel Keane

Thus begins Yvonne Meier’s “Strega Nona,” about a pair of lovers brought together by a matchmaker whose intentions, whether mischievous or manipulative, seem questionable. For 45 minutes the couple runs the gamut of behaviors, while the matchmaker, Meier herself, pops balloons from a perch in a shadowy corner of the stage. With humor that veers to slapstick, and spectacular dancing by Osmani Tellez and Lisa Kusanagi, “Strega Nona” is a master class on the influences that have defined Meier’s 40 year, Bessie award-winning career: improvisation, release technique, and Authentic Movement.

The dancers/lovers recover from the slapping to begin a new section in which Tellez guides Kusanagi as if she’s a puppet animated by his touch. The music has shifted to something choral. At the moment when Tellez sits on Kusanagi’s back, pop! We hear the first balloon explode. Kusanagi climbs onto Tellez to cling like a backpack. Pop! He crawls underneath her and together they tumble. Pop! Do the popped balloons signal a change? A time marker? Appreciation? There is a finite number, strung in a column from floor to ceiling as a sculptural set piece. The implication is that all will be spent by end of show.

Love at its obsessive worst is funny in Meier’s hands. The premise is simple, the jokes are not subtle. Even the balloon popping starts to feel like a gimmick. What makes “Strega Nona” work is the mastery of the two dancers. Their movement is vigorous and fluid, full out physical, and free of formal technique. Think sand on the beach, dragged and returned by the tide. Or maybe bean bag dolls, the way their limbs empty and fill as they’re tossed about. Tellez and Kusanagi take each prompt/activity and push it to the limit. By the end, Tellez’s hair is dripping wet from exertion.

Osmani Tellez and Lisa Kusanagi in Yvonne Meier's“Strega Nona.” Photograph by Rachel Keane

In one bit, they begin to jerk and twitch. The action increases until they are vibrating uncontrollably, holding hands and humming. Pop! In another bit, Kusanagi pantomimes a bull preparing to stampede, with arms raised hornlike, feet scraping the ground. In a solo accompanied by an operatic tenor, Tellez folds one arm across his chest as if holding his heart, perhaps partnering himself in a formal dance. In Kusanagi’s solo, she moves frenetically, each body part with a mind of its own. The flexibility of her sternum is notable, an area that metaphorically speaks of love. Her face is expressive, and when coupled with gesticulating arms, she reminds me of an exuberant ASL interpreter.

For the climax, the dancers perform a kiss. They become lovers who can’t get enough of each other; their lips are magnets. They move up and down from the floor, she stands on his thighs—all the while their lips remain in constant contact, bending the two into crazy contortions. The balloon popping ramps up. After an episode of hair pulling, the dancers make a dash to their skins/coveralls that still float like ghosts at the perimeter of the stage. Hers is flying, his slides its feet along the floor like Gene Kelly. They climb in and zip up, joining hands. Pop! Pop! Does this mean they have resorted to their guarded selves? Or do they now fill their suits differently? Take it as you will, the closure is poetic.

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.

comments

Featured

REVIEWS | Rebecca Deczynski

Bright Stars

Misty Copeland makes an observation. “I see,” she says, looking into the audience packed with attendees in formalwear, “a lot of people who care about ballet.”

REVIEWS | Rebecca Deczynski

Strings Section

Chamber music can be fun, too! That, at least, is the apparent message that violinist Johnny Gandelsman is trying to spread in his two-hour program, “Johnny Loves Johann.” He’s certainly not wrong.

REVIEWS | Rebecca Deczynski

For Old Times’ Sake

What makes a story stick across not just decades, but millennia? The longevity of ancient Greek drama points to an innate essentiality, but the variations of these works, too, have played a critical role in its durability.

INTERVIEWS | Eoin Fenton

Stepping on the Right Path

“We are in a shambles.” This is the headline statement for Catherine Young’s touring work “Ciseach | An Embodied Manifesto” which will make its way through Ireland at a time when it is perhaps needed most.

Spellbound

Karen Hildebrand

subscribe to the latest in dance

comments

Featured

Bright Stars

Strings Section

For Old Times’ Sake

Stepping on the Right Path