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Shamel Pitts, Part of the TRIBE

Talk about having a banner year! In 2024 alone, dancer, choreographer and spoken word artist Shamel Pitts not only received a MacArthur Fellowship and the Doris Duke Award, but was also honored with the Knight Choreography Prize. Indeed, as the artistic director and founder of Tribe, a Brooklyn-based multidisciplinary arts collective that works across mediums, Pitts has been on a creative tear for years!

Tribe in “A Touch of Red” by Shamel Pitts. Photograph by Maria Baranova, courtesy of New York Live Arts

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And his journey continues when Tribe performs “Black Hole—Trilogy and Triathlon,” in Los Angeles at UCLA’s Glorya Kaufman Dance Theater on February 15. The work, which was described by the New York Times’ Brian Seibert as, “curiously stylish and sincere, glossily cold and tender. Always visually stunning, it’s never dull,” is the final part of Pitts’ Black Series triptych. Enriched by Afrofuturism, the hour-long piece weaves together dance, sound, video and light into a narrative celebrating vitality, tenderness and the power of unity and progress. 

A kind of terpsichorean shaman, Pitts, who was born in 1985 in Brooklyn, is also a conceptual artist and teacher. Beginning his dance training at LaGuardia High School for Music & Art and the Performing Arts, and, simultaneously at The Ailey School, he then received his BFA in Dance from the Juilliard School, where he was awarded the Martha Hill Award for excellence in dance. 

The multi-hyphenate then went on to become a member of Mikhail Baryshnikov’s Hell’s Kitchen Dance and Ballet Jazz Dance Montréal before joining Batsheva Dance Company, where he performed for seven years under artistic director Ohad Naharin.

Since leaving Batsheva in 2016, Pitts, who also teaches Gaga and has performed around the world with his “Black series,” snagged the 2018 Princess Grace Award, as well as being named a 2020 Guggenheim Fellow. And, in 2021, he was one of the choreographers in Saul Williams’ and Bill T. Jones’ work, “The Motherboard Suite,” which garnered him a Bessie Award.

Fjord caught up with Pitts by phone from his home in Brooklyn, with the wide-ranging conversation including topics such as forming Tribe, his artistic inspirations and where he sees himself in the next five to 10 years.

First of all, did you always want to be a dancer/choreographer?

My mother threw a lot of parties, and growing up in Brooklyn, I was always around adults dancing at night. I was one of the only kids dancing with these adults into the early hours of the morning. At some point while dancing, I would arrange them into different sequences and structures; this was my first play at choreographing. I was under 10 years old and dance and choreography have always been a part of who I am.


You formed Tribe in December, 2019, and 2020 was your first year of operations. Obviously, Covid changed everything. What kept you going?

Yes, it was legally formed December 11th, 2019—on my mother’s birthday; she passed away in 2001. Is it a miracle or a coincidence or whatever? Our first year of operations as a non-profit was in 2020, and the world was paused; we were all quarantined. But before 2020, I’d been reaching out to many presenters, organizers and funders to share with them that I was trying to legally form this arts collective. 

At the time, because of schedules, no one was responding to me, but during Covid, when we paused, [they] started to respond. We had space and time that wasn’t leading to a performance, but that kept me going, [because] I was able to be in conversation with funders and create a safety net or shelter for this new organization.

I was also fortunate enough to get Sophie [Myrtil-McCourty of] Lotus Arts Management, our tour-booking agent that helped me to keep going, and the artists that I was working with at that time. There were many artists in many different practices and we were working on a multi-disciplinary art film—“Lake of Red”—with artists who lived all over the world. 

I asked them, “How are you doing?” and I really meant it; their wellness was of huge importance to me. Did they want to continue working on this film, because it was important for them to continue to create and share art. That made me realize that during quarantine, these artists and their resilience and bravery and brilliance was something I felt I needed to invest in or cultivate forward. That’s what kept me going.

Shamel Pitts. Photograph by Itai Zwecker

And I’m so glad you did! Can you please talk about Tribe as a collective: how many are in it; how does one join, as I don’t imagine you hold auditions?

Tribe’s core administrative team is eight and the core artistic team is about 11. These numbers fluctuate, as I constantly am reminded, “That which you are seeking is also seeking you.” It’s an elusive phrase and it’s true how one joins Tribe: We find each other. I don’t hold auditions, and never have. 

I listen to my environments. For example, the first person/artist was Mirelle Martins. She’s a Brazilian-born artist of African descent who now lives in New York. I met her in 2013 when I was teaching Gaga in Brooklyn. I was the teacher, she was the student and we really saw each other [and] never stopped seeing each other.

When I was in Tel Aviv, I was creating “Black Velvet” [the second part of the “Black” trilogy], then I left Batsheva, and moved to Brazil for several months. I brought Gaga to Brazil, [and] was teaching it all over the country. Simultaneously, I was creating “Black Velvet,” and knew I wanted to use video projections as the only light source. She introduced me to Lucca del Carlo, and Lucca, Mirelle and I are the first three founding Tribe members. Mirelle isn’t performing, but is creative director of digital platforms, [and] Lucca is the video projection mapping artist and graphic designer.

You, Tushrik Fredericks and Marcella Lewis are the trio in “Black Hole—Trilogy And Triathlon.”  What was the genesis of the work, and in what ways are you honoring Afrofuturism?

Afrofuturism, to me, is not—and I don’t speak about it as a genre, nor is it based in tech or space—for me, it’s a philosophy, an ethos, maybe even a call to action of artists and people of color to create new stories, ones that are connected to its past. It’s TRIBE saying, “Go back and get connected to its past,” but we’re also narrators creating stories to shine a light towards a future that is brighter and shines more luminously on its past.

The idea came to me—as David Lynch once said—ideas are like fishing; you have to create conditions to, well, catch a fish—that’s how I relate to ideas. I’m not the one creating as much as I’m the catcher/gatherer of cultivating those ideas forward. In 2016, when I moved to Brazil, we were creating “Black Velvet,” the second work in the Black series. 

It was the time that Trump became president. I cried and I was so pissed that day, [and] one of the Brazilian artists said to me, “Welcome to our world.” Do I want to be a part of this world—is this reality? Can we have imagined realities that are full of more potential than this one? That led me to the cosmos and space; I was thinking of black holes—a cosmic phenomenon; the strongest gravitational force in space.

Anything in its axis gets condensed and swallowed into its core. I’m not a scientist, I’m speaking as an artist [and] I became curious: Where does all of this matter go; how is it contained? I started to imagine this mysterious and miraculous portal—a reentry, a rebirth of possibilities. That’s the genesis of “Black Hole.”

Have you made any tweaks or changes to “Black Hole,” which features a soundtrack by Sivan Jacobovitz, and costumes by Naomi Rapaport?

What I love about live performance is that it’s alive; it’s a living thing. Although at this moment I can’t give birth to children, I give birth to a lot of things. Usually it takes me nine months to labor a work—then it tells me what it needs to thrive. Since 2022, I’ve made small changes, because each time before a performance, we rehearse [with] lighting, projections, the electronic music. It’s exactly one hour, one minute, and one second. It’s a lot about the power of three—the one, one, one, the three performers, and it’s the third and final work in the trilogy.

Tribe in “Black Hole” by Shamel Pitts. Photograph by Delaney Greenberg, courtesy of Kelly Strayhorn Theater

That’s really cool, Shamel. It’s also cool that you danced with Baryshnikov’s company, so I’m wondering what you learned from him that might have inspired you.

I have many people and artists who inspire me—mostly they’re my collaborators. Meeting daily, we inspire each other. Misha has been a huge source of inspiration for me for a long time. I was in touch with him, because I [was] an artist-in-residence at his [Baryshnikov] Arts Center, through the Princess Grace Award that I received. 

One of the things I learned from him was his commitment and passion towards his practice. Wow! He was first person in the dance studio in the morning, with all of his dance gear—foam rollers, back massagers, clothes, doing warm-ups at the barre. His work ethic, commitment and passion to his practice and his body, and bodies in the space with him, was something I admire and try to practice to this day. The practice of being in my body, and honoring it and the bodies of those around me, is by dancing every day.

What was it like being the only Black dancer in Batsheva, and are you still in touch with Ohad?  

I’ve experienced being the only Black dancer, a person of color, one of only a few, in many places throughout my entire career. TRIBE is the first place I’m not the only Black person, and that’s intentional. Joining Batsheva was one of the best things, and although I was the only Black dancer in Batsheva, in my time, it was a dance company with people from many different cultures. 

It was a diverse company, and being in spaces as the only Black dancer for me, was the dream of my life [and] one of the best things that happened to me. Those dancers rocked my world every day, and working with Ohad every day was a huge gift. Every day it was a lesson and a challenge. I learned so much from him. When dreams for me become actualized, reality happens. He’s incredible—a great human being, artist, teacher. 

Another inspiration—a hero of yours—is Jimmy Hendrix.

I believe in the power of love more than the love of power. And Jimmy Hendrix said, “When the power of love overcomes the love of power, the world will know peace.” When I first started Tribe, I asked Ohad to give me some advice as an artistic director. He said, “Don’t abuse your power . . . the power of love is more than overcoming the love of power.” 

Tribe in “Black Velvet” by Shamel Pitts. Photograph courtesy of the artists

Such terrific stuff, Shamel. You once said that you’re connected to dance on a primordial level. Can you please elaborate on that?

One of my mystic teachers or guides, is that I’m inspired by Butoh. It literally translates as, “a dance of utter darkness.” One of the founders, Kazuo Ohno, says [that] when he dances, he tries to trace his memories all the way back to his mother’s womb. There’s a sense of movement at that first encounter of life at a primordial level. I think I experience that when I dance at night, when my mother threw parties, when I go to raves and techno-clubs, dance is from a primordial level. It’s a subculture which begets culture. I stay connected through that connection to dance in those ways.

Your spirituality comes through in both words and dance. On another topic, I’m wondering what advice you might have for young dancers and/or choreographers?

I love being curious, and staying curious about things that we may know, and things we don’t know. Staying curious and keeping the doors open towards conversations that may have opposing views. When I am confronted with opposition, I try to still keep the door open to conversations and understanding. I try not to create opposition. I create bridges of connection, even with differing perspectives.  

As a young dancer and choreographer, it’s useful for me to stay curious—I can hear my voice and also hear the voices of those around me, both physically and also ancestrally—and cosmically. My collaborators have been a huge source of inspiration. So, my advice in the digital age is: How do we remain human to be in human connection with people beyond the screen?

Who are you hanging out with, whose hands are you holding, who’s making you laugh? Who’s sending you books; which books are you reading? Are you able to have critiques of your work? My advice is: Stay curious and continue to have human, in-person connections. My dog, Chico, has been a huge teacher to me, so it’s not just with humans, [but also] nature. I hug trees that I walk by that have influenced my work. Also, meditate every day.

Where do you see yourself in the next five to 10 years?

I see myself continuing what I’ve begun. The MacArthur Prize, the Doris Duke Artist Award and the Knight Prize all have helped me to go towards a dream I’ve been dreaming of for many years—purchasing a space that is a community center. By community center, I also mean a space for me to live in. It’s important that it be in Bedford-Stuyvesant Brooklyn, the neighborhood that raised me that was predominantly African American and people of color.

It’s become increasingly gentrified since I left, so it’s important to purchase a space that will be for artists, trans artists, sub-culture communities, nightlife people, Tribe artists—for us to have a space to rest, restore, retreat, to be in conversation, to think critically, to cook meals together, and to dance.

Victoria Looseleaf


Victoria Looseleaf is an award-winning, Los Angeles-based international arts journalist who covers music and dance festivals around the world. Among the many publications she has contributed to are the Los Angeles Times, the New York Times, Dance Magazine and KCET’s Artbound. In addition, she taught dance history at USC and Santa Monica College. Looseleaf’s novella-in-verse, Isn't It Rich? is available from Amazon, and and her latest book, Russ & Iggy’s Art Alphabet with illustrations by JT Steiny, was recently published by Red Sky Presents. Looseleaf can be reached through X, Facebook, Instagram and Linked In, as well as at her online arts magazine ArtNowLA.

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