The three dancers add drama and variation to the underlying processional current, echoing the harmonic workings of the yoiking. Joining hands, the trio forms a human knot that pulls and tugs at its bounds. Are the women struggling against each other, or are they trying to ease one’s suffering? When they let go to run in a wide circle, they are animals, or maybe wild children. One woman continues to run, panting and gasping for breath until she staggers to all fours. She skids and falls on her back repeatedly as if she’s possessed and speaking in tongues. The other ensemble members manage to calm her, and we hear a sniffling as all seven begin to breathe together. They gradually tilt to the right and as a group fall into a sweeping run, clinging first to one side of the stage, then the other, as if aboard a lurching ship. 

At the end, the four singers sit together on the floor while the three dancers perform opposite, one bent over backward, two walking on their hands with derrieres piked. One kicks up a leg and lets it dangle midair. The others grab it and drag her away. The three hold hands for ballast as they contort in angular backbends. One forms a table top and the other two use her back as a bench. The final procession is an exit, up the stairs into the audience, as if to continue the original journey that led us into the theater, now out the front door. Still singing, the sound trails off, megaphones standing mute under the fabric sculpture. 

While writing this review, news arrived of the tragic accident at Jacob's Pillow and the terrible loss of Kat Sirico. The Pillow has announced its closure for the remainder of the 2025 season. We send our deepest condolences to the Pillow community.