Every year, P7—the seven dancers that make up the core company of Pilobolus—does a residency at the Joyce in NYC, and for the past two years I’ve had the privilege of seeing them during Pilobolus’ SI.

It’s an incomparable experience, and if you can make it happen, it’s worth going (and I’m not just saying that bc I’ve been a Pilobolus Stan since I was 3 and I have two friends in P7 rn).

This year, after the show, Molly Webster from Radiolab (one of my all time fave podcasts/NPR shows) sat down with Renée Jaworski and Matt Kent in an installment of the Joyce’s Curtain Charts series.

We had the option to stay for that or go chat with the dancers.

I found myself terribly torn, but ultimately decided to stay for the chat, and I’m glad that I did for so meant reasons, but not least because Matt and Renée articulated something I’ve been reaching for.

During the discussion of how Pilobolus resurrects pieces, they described it as something like “stepping into a lineage.”

You’re not trying to become the dancer who originated the given role (or in the case of Pilobolus, roles); you’re learning what has been transmitted from them, possibly through several other dancers, and setting it on your own instrument.

The steps may be essentially the same, but your way of moving is yours, and that’s where serendipity enters in and what could be a moribund attempt to resurrect the dead (again, metaphorically; most of Pilobolus’ dancers are still around) instead breathes be life into the work.

Inevitably, Matt and Renée expressed this so much better than I’m doing now, but the point is this: when I create choreography, this is what I want for it.

I don’t want it to be exactly the same every single time, because that’s not how dance is in the first place and because I’d much rather see dancers take something I’ve made and breathe their own life into it.

Pilobolus has always been collaborative; collective. The voices of its dancers have always influenced the creation of its dances.

Thus, pieces evolve and grow richer (except occasionally, when everyone sort of quietly agrees to lock them up in the dustiest corner of the archive, and good riddance).

I don’t think it’s necessarily wrong for choreographers to work from a place of crystalline, singular vision, in which future recreations must be as close as possible to the original rendition.

I do, however, honestly think it’s kinda boring when we do.

Anyway, I love this idea of dancing as part of a lineage; of creating dance with the knowledge that it can and will and should change over time.

And now I have a better way to explain it, even though I don’t do it as well as Renée and Matt.

PS—I’m home for a week to let my foot heal, then it’s back to Pilobolus Camp 😁