Cecly Placenti

Features > Impressions The Dance Enthusiast's Brand of Review/Thoughts on What We See As the audience chats and last minute arrivals find their seats, a man in a blue suit walks down an aisle of the mammoth performance space at Powerhouse Arts, a former power plant turned arts hub, as if in a trance. We notice him and the chatter dies down. A pulsing beat rises, muffled and far away. Like the man in blue, we are hypnotized.

Features > Impressions The Dance Enthusiast's Brand of Review/Thoughts on What We See As the audience chats and last minute arrivals find their seats, a man in a blue suit walks down an aisle of the mammoth performance space at Powerhouse Arts, a former power plant turned arts hub, as if in a trance. We notice him and the chatter dies down. A pulsing beat rises, muffled and far away. Like the man in blue, we are hypnotized.

Features > Impressions The Dance Enthusiast's Brand of Review/Thoughts on What We See Bodies lay scattered across the stage in near darkness. Gradually, limbs rise up from the prone pile, their ascent so slow it seems like a trick of the eye. Eventually, twelve performers find themselves upright, emerging into the dawning stage light to the sound of cicadas chirping.