Ce site Web a des limites de navigation. Il est recommandé d'utiliser un navigateur comme Edge, Chrome, Safari ou Firefox.

In the Flow with Vangeline

For the final event of Lincoln Center’s Summer for the City outdoor Dance Encounters series, Butoh artist Vangeline performed the newly commissioned work “Naiad Metal” in the Paul Milstein Reflecting Pool at Hearst Plaza. Dressed as a mythical water goddess in a golden gown of pleated crepe tiers finished with a dazzling, gold-sequined stole and holding a gleaming gold metal mask in her hand (all designed by Machine Dazzle), Vangeline walked into the water. Taking her place in the center of the pool between the massive, bronze Henry Moore “Reclining Figure” and 900 candelabras (golden, reed-like projections), she faced away from where most of the audience was situated and donned her metal face. According to Merriam-Webster, a Naiad is “any of the nymphs in classical mythology living in and giving life to lakes, rivers, springs, and fountains.” The Encyclopedia Britannica further clarifies that the word is derived from the Greek naiein, “to flow.” She is a nymph of flowing, fresh water. 

Performance

“Naiad Metal” by Vangeline

Place

Paul Milstein Reflecting Pool, Hearst Plaza, Lincoln Center, New York, NY, August 2026

Words

Karen Greenspan

Vangeline in “Naiad Metal.” Photograph by Michael Blase

As the solemn marching pulse of the second movement of Beethoven’s Symphony No. 7 swelled with largeness and emotion, Vangeline slowly rotated her upper torso to face the audience and then rotated back. She became a Greek sculpture—seen in profile, then in three quarter view, full frontal, and then the reverse—like the phases of the moon. That was the sum of her movement for those nine minutes. But in that time, Vangeline had slowed her own breathing and internal processes to enter a state of deep concentration, and in doing so, we in the audience slowed down with her and shifted into Butoh time.

To the sounds of birdsong, “The Blue Danube” waltz, helicopter oscillations, and electronic sound composed by Michael Shannon, Vangeline again locked our attention as she gradually raised her arms sidewards and then fully overhead. She appeared like a scaly water creature arisen from the deep as the ends of her draped stole emerged from the water. Her hands, hidden inside the glistening fabric, began to flick as they moved toward her face. Removing the golden mask, she released it to the water. 

Vangeline in “Naiad Metal.” Photograph by Michael Blase

Vangeline in “Naiad Metal.” Photograph by Michael Blase

As the pensive arpeggios of the first movement of Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata” rolled through the soundscape, Vangeline freed her arms from their sequined covering, stretching her bare arms with beneficence over her watery dominion. (It should be noted that Vangeline decided on these sound selections specifically for their entrainment effect—a mechanism by which the brain naturally synchronizes with certain sounds and frequencies inducing brainwave states such as deep relaxation and receptivity.) She softly traced one hand along the skin of the other arm settling it at her heart—a deeply human gesture in stark contrast to her initial, metal-masked presentation. 

Vangeline slowly inclined her body downward toward the water as if magnetized by the beckoning depths. Surrendering completely to its liquid comfort, she lay back to float. Only her powdery Butoh-white face, hands, and a puddle of gold fabric remained visible against the calm, black surface. 

With no apparent effort, Vangeline leaned forward to stand, unfurling her body from the water. She raised one arm skyward and then brought it down with an undulating ripple before turning to the audience to bow.

Vangeline in “Naiad Metal.” Photograph by Michael Blase

Vangeline in “Naiad Metal.” Photograph by Michael Blase

As I walked to the pool’s edge to get a closer glimpse of the mask still floating in the water, I noticed how my own energy and pacing had shifted into Butoh time. Watching Vangeline’s one-hour Butoh solo in the water, I had been drawn into her movement, energy, and experience because of its extreme slowness and unpredictability. We have known for some time from scientific studies that mirror neurons can be activated in a person who is observing another person performing a movement—the same neurons that are activated in the one who is doing the moving. These mirror neurons afford an internal simulation of another person's physical and even emotional state that then cascades outward when more people are involved. “Neural synchrony” is the alignment of brainwave activity between individuals during communication or shared experiences. Vangeline’s art and artistry drew us all, whether by the reflecting pool attending intentionally or casually, to dissolve ourselves and attune to another’s timing and experience.

Karen Greenspan


Karen Greenspan is a New York City-based dance journalist and frequent contributor to Natural History Magazine, Dance Tabs, Ballet Review, and Tricycle among other publications. She is also the author of Footfalls from the Land of Happiness: A Journey into the Dances of Bhutan, published in 2019.

subscribe to the latest in dance


“Uncommonly intelligent, substantial coverage.”

Your weekly source for world-class dance reviews, interviews, articles, and more.

Already a paid subscriber? Login

comments

Veuillez noter que les commentaires doivent être approvés avant d'être affichés

Featured

Heartache, on Repeat
SCREEN DANCE | Sarah Elgart

Heartache, on Repeat

With a soundtrack of crashing ocean waves, the opening 30 seconds of the stunning dance short Heartache codirected by Iker Karrera and Alberto D. Centeno delivers a series of singular and seemingly random yet intriguing images that lure the viewer in: A shirtless man, unsteady on his feet, flailing as he attempts to make his way up the staircase of an old building. A pair of legs seated on a bench—their owner hidden by the camera angle. An upstairs POV looking down on a huge, mysteriously beautiful, and darkened room empty of any furnishings, with old and muted walls of peeling...

Plus
Winning Works
REVIEWS | Steve Sucato

Winning Works

BalletMet has joined the ranks of ballet companies who have added a choreographic competition to their season.

Plus
R.A.I.N Dance
REVIEWS | Gracia Haby

R.A.I.N Dance

What form might radical compassion take? If you tease apart an acronym for cultivating mindfulness, and allow a herd of horses to gallop through the middle, what might arise?

Plus
Tomorrow’s Hopes
REVIEWS | Sara Beale

Tomorrow’s Hopes

There’s not a whole lot that’s new in this programme of new works from Alvin Ailey, which I mean in the best way possible.

Plus
Good Subscription Agency