Mother of Creation

What drives the creative force in the universe? What impels motherhood? These are some of the questions that provoked the bold and colorful work that unfolded onstage as Gallim premiered “Mother” at the Joyce the first week of November. The evening-length work, choreographed by Andrea Miller, founder of Gallim, in collaboration with her company of nine boundary pushing dancers, brought together inspired lighting, set, and costumes in a nonstop feast for the eyes.

Performance

Gallim: “Mother” by Andrea Miller

Place

The Joyce Theater, New York, NY, November 5, 2025

Words

Karen Greenspan

Donovan Reed, Antonia Luz, Donterreo Culp, Victoria Chasse Dominguez, Billy Barry, Vivian Pakkanen, India Hobbs Jasmine Alisca, Marc Anthony Gutierrez in “Mother” by Andrea Miller. Photograph by Dan Chen

The stage landscape was anchored by a white backdrop defined by a black, longitudinal mark running down the center—suggesting a birth opening or a surgical cut. A woman (Victoria Chassé Dominguez), with her back to the audience, sat in a deep squat, evoking a timeless birthing posture. Pulsing her body upward in spurts, she stretched to her full height, turned to face the audience, and clenched one fist forward as the other fist grazed her cheek. Her arms outstretched, she traveled the circumference of the space as if encompassing it all. The lighting, by Vincent Vigilante, illumined Dominguez’ enthralling dance as it also revealed the artistry of Orly Anan’s costume vision—the first of a nine sheer unitards blushing in a full palette of colors.

After a blackout, all nine dancers appeared onstage lit in silhouette as the newly commissioned electronic score by Frédéric Despierre pulsated with tribal-like percussion. Seven of the dancers reclined on the floor downstage as two standing figures revolved around each other upstage. In a surreal evocation of conception, the standing duo infiltrated the reclining group prompting them onto their feet to reorganize into a circling swirl. Like cells dividing and multiplying, the large circle split into two smaller enclosed formations as the members of each group clasped hands in a new unit. These circles followed each other about the stage hoisting individuals aloft—eventually dissipating, only to regroup into new formations. Meanwhile, the music shifted into a disco groove.

Victoria Chasse-Dominguez in “Mother” by Andrea Miller. Photograph by Dan Chen

In a magnetizing scene, an upstage quartet began a grapevine step traveling side to side as a downstage group superimposed their bodies into one with their many arms fanning outward like a multi-armed Hindu deity. The quartet absorbed the deity into the ongoing grapevine as one dancer broke away. The soloist was eventually joined by another momentarily only to dissolve into more kaleidoscopic formations and dissolutions. Throughout the shifting amalgamations, the ongoing grapevine sequence imprinted a vision and vibration of the procreational drive. Vigilante’s bold lighting in saturated colors (oranges, pinks, purples, golds, reds, and blues) shaped the contours of the evolving landscape.

Like an Amazon queen, India Hobbs majestically rode on the shoulders of Marc Anthony Gutierrez to perform a breathtaking duet together. She stepped out of the lift as Gutierrez supported her in a cantilevered spin to the floor. After Hobbs climbed atop her perch again, the two molded themselves into impossible, beautiful relationships eventually spiraling to the floor.

The energy changed as Vivian Pakkanen appeared alone framed by two bars of white neon light on opposite sides of the stage floor. Emitting a deep moan, she fell to the ground with fists raised. Proceeding downstage along a diagonal, she seemed to pull herself apart at the seams stretching into giant reaches and a series of pitched arabesques until she finally released a shriek that sounded like a caught bird. Despite the obvious sight and sounds of pain, the choreography did not approach the depth or rawness of the pain that motherhood sometimes holds.

Billy Barry in “Mother” by Andrea Miller. Photograph by Dan Chen

Nonetheless, dancer Billy Barry (formerly of Batsheva) made a climactic entrance as a healing spirit or shaman character. Completely enveloped from head to toe in a giant Carnivalesque white fringe costume (made of tiers of white grass or fringe), the white spirit supported and lifted the grieving figure (Pakkanen) onto its shoulders and began spinning around as the rest of the dancers again filled the stage. With pumping arms and circling kicks that churned powerfully within the huge, fringed costume, the healing spirit circulated about the stage infusing the space with revitalizing energy. It came to a stop, arms stretched wide so that the costume formed an all-embracing wall of white. But the scene veered into overly literal territory when, suddenly, a being was birthed from its skirts. And with that, a lilting score of guitar and vocals induced a soothing flow of joyous running in circles with luxuriant arm and hip gestures until the unity dissipated and the piece ended with a blackout.

The Gallim dancers’ virtuosic intensity and fearless performances carried this production brimming with Miller’s signature bold, sensual physicality. Yet, with all its mythic references to birth and gestation and sweeping associations around the beauty and the pain of motherhood and of Mother Earth, the fantasy universe created in “Mother” lacked the emotional depth to truly evoke the immensity of the subject. Sometimes bold and beautiful is just not enough.

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.

comments

Featured

REVIEWS | Rachel Howard

Fated Love

San Francisco Ballet artistic director Tamara Rojo has often said she believes ballet should operate more like Broadway, where shows have previews and work through revisions before the real premiere.

REVIEWS | Faye Arthurs

Country Music and Line Dancing

In general, one knows exactly what to expect of a Pam Tanowitz piece. There will be deconstructed ballet and modern steps.

SCREEN DANCE | Sarah Elgart

The Two of Us

When I think of the desert, the first impression that comes to mind is of unrelenting heat, stark shadows, the solitude of vast space, occasional winds, and slowness.

FREE ARTICLE

REVIEWS | Karen Hildebrand

New and Old Stories

Two works, separated by a turn of the century. One, the final collaboration between Bill T. Jones and Arnie Zane; the other, made 25 years after Zane’s death.