What’s Up With Those Chairs? Company | E at Atlas INTERSECTIONS by Ashayla Byrd

What’s Up With Those Chairs?

by Ashayla Byrd

Company | E (@companyearts) : Heart Still Beating

Atlas Performing Arts Center

March 1, 2025 7:30 pm

(Banner photo by Paul Gordon Emerson)

Audio version below

A sculpture of grey office chairs sits piled at the center of the Sprenger Theater; the curtains are wide open. Their arrangement, though intentional, looks haphazard and disheveled. The stark, white spotlight shining down on them creates an eerie feeling, at least for me. The pile is flanked by two handheld, industrial lights. I enter this experience feeling intrigued. Given the job market and the political sphere, the sight of more than two desk chairs in any locality just skeeves me out. I know that I am about to witness Company | E, but what’s the deal with these chairs? 

Company | E’s evening of dance, Heart Still Beating, was choreographed by a number of voices: Executive and Co-Artistic Director Paul Gordon Emerson, Co-Founder and Co-Artistic Director Kathryn Sydell Pilkington, Ukrainian choreographers Anastasia Kharchenko and Kate Kurman, and Robert Priore. Founded in 2011, Company | E is “an interdisciplinary performing arts organization with, at its heart, a contemporary repertory dance company.” Their program note emphasizes the importance of intercultural exchanges through dance. I have only ever heard tell of Company | E in passing; it felt so elusive to me upon my arrival in DC nearly four years ago. “Oh, I’d do anything to dance for them,” my first DC roommate told me after class one day. She’d taken masterclasses with them in undergraduate school and longed for the challenge that dancers of their caliber had to offer. After seeing their performance of Heart Still Beating, I’m willing to break a sweat for them myself.

Now, let me get back to these office chairs. A single dancer sits on one of the few upright chairs before beginning a monologue: “I am nobody, so I can be anybody…” How I wish that I could have captured the full passage! As she continues onward, the ensemble of dancers appears onstage to rearrange the chairs one by one until the speaking dancer stands to move her chair as well. The hypnotic, ambient sounds of chimes and bells reverberate through the air, and another soloist appears. Two other dancers shine the handheld, white lights on her as she navigates the dim performance space. Her wandering eyes scan her surroundings as her elongated, expansive moments absorb the energy of the room. Her extensions are effortless; every single movement is articulate and purposeful. I cannot help but wonder, is she lost? Where is she heading? Are the other dancers obstacles or partners in her journey towards resolution? What is her relationship to the other bodies in space?

“It feels apropos to reflect on the value of community as America simultaneously faces a loneliness epidemic and immense global conflict in all directions.” 

The intensity of the narrative continues to build as more stringed instruments are woven into the soundscore. The ensemble swirls throughout the stage, and I feel a sense of slightly organized chaos as the opening sequence progresses. They are covered, from head to toe, in black, with sleeveless turtleneck tops and harem-like pants; this only adds to the ominous feeling. The wayward soloist is the only person clad in a long-sleeved, black shirt. One by one, they find higher ground and take off running, tossing one arm up toward the diagonal. In various pairings, the masc dancers lift the femme dancers into shapes that send them skyward. I am struck by the image of the full cast crawling across the stage in a diagonal, their spines undulating with each step forward. To me, this signals a sense of collective struggle as they all continue to press forward, even at their lowest points. As much as dance can offer an escape from the ills that plague society, this opening sequence loosely reminded me of them. The dancers’ embodiment of adversity and perseverance mesmerizes me; I am moved by their trust within one another and the synchronicity of their movement.

As the stage is cleared of chairs, the duet that follows draws me further into the more intimate corners of Company | E’s world. Their gentle, supportive connection allows them to create rather complex shapes, using one another’s bodies as pillars for the architecture of the story they tell together. The femme dancer’s flexibility and strength is on display as she practically wraps herself around her masc partner’s midsection before being hoisted into the air, still curved and swirling. The masc dancer, a sturdy yet limber base, aids his partner in soaring across the space. I audibly gasp when at another point in their duet, the masc dancer lifts and spins the dancer from the ground using only her legs while her arms are outstretched. I am reminded of the most caring relationships in my life that encourage me to ascend to my highest capabilities and steady me when I falter.

As more of the ensemble returns, the chairs follow suit, lined in two groups of three at the front and back of the stage. This piece, with a more playful, competitive air, reminds me of all the ways we as humans live to be simultaneously exasperated with, frustrated by, and in competition with one another. This choreography incorporated more pedestrian movements; hands thrown up and shaken in frustration and accusatory fingers pointed this way and that brought the work down to earth for me. Intent on one-upping each other, the tension escalates. I wonder about the stories they are so intent on telling one another. Are they arguing? Recounting a rather chaotic story to a partner or friend? Their hands jut out, up, sideways, and down to convey their silent soliloquies, but it feels like they are just missing each other. The most resounding theme throughout the work thus far seems to center relationships, connection, and collectivity, especially in the face of hardship and ongoing distress. It feels apropos to reflect on the value of community as America simultaneously faces a loneliness epidemic and immense global conflict in all directions. 

The following section finds the dancers and their chairs in a circle, and one by one, they toss themselves from their seats. The wayward soloist returns with a square of light shining down on her; she crosses the full diagonal of the stage with resolute steps and a potent focus. In her downstage corner, she watches the ensemble slowly revolve around the circle of chairs. This particular moment is somber. The group ultimately creates a shape that the soloist climbs. She just barely stands on top of them before melting back downward. Have they survived a trauma? Is this only the beginning? How does one cope with survivor’s guilt? 

“This was the type of performance that, in true contemporary dance style, was entirely open to interpretation.” 

Another duet begins, this time between a new pair of dancers. Their relationship–playful, warm, and tender–is accented by the soothing lilt of Zoey Keating’s strings. The dancers billow, each step they execute is a seamless breath inward and outward. This connection differs from the last duet; the movement vocabulary suggests a more romantic connection between the dancers as they smile, caress one another’s faces and bodies, and melt into one another. Ever delicate, I yearn to bask in the softness of their movement. Unfortunately, the masc dancer departs the stage rather suddenly; he leaves without a trace. From the way she recoils and searches the now-empty stage, I can imagine that this moment deeply saddens her. 

I found the final section of the work to be the most arresting. At this point, a quartet of femme dancers sport long-sleeved black shirts, signaling a shift from their initially exposed presentation. In their black socks, the ensemble glides across the space with heightened emotion and laser-sharp focus. Their movement is direct, yet animalistic. Accentuated by contorted, angsty hands, the dancers slink and skulk around the stage when executing their complex floorwork. Each movement and gesture is textured with the ensemble’s collective breath; their breath becomes a character alongside the lighting, movement, chairs, and costumes. The work’s final resolution comes when each of the dancers removes their long-sleeve shirts, and places them in a pile where the sculpture of chairs once stood. Two of the masc dancers, coming from offstage, shine the original handheld lights onto this much smaller pile of clothes, and the lights fade away. 

Whether because of the ensemble’s connectivity and focus, the enchanting and singular compositional style of Zoey Keating’s soundscore throughout, the all-black costumes, highly effective curation, or the amalgamation of all these things, the entire performance flowed together seamlessly in my eyes. So many visions coalesced to create this production. When the performance concluded, I panicked for fear that no talkback would follow the show. This was the type of performance that, in true contemporary dance style, was entirely open to interpretation. Charge it to my Gen-Z need for instant gratification, but I had to know what I just witnessed!

The company returns to the stage, seated in a semi-circle for the post-show Q & A. They’re in those chairs again. When asked about the choreographic intent for the evening, Company | E member, Co-Founder and Co-Artistic Director Kathryn Sydell Pilkington says,  “A lot of the things we worked on choreographing in our process together come from human elements, what we do in our daily lives, and things that may be going on in the world now. We have two choreographers from Ukraine, so we had a chance to work with voices from all around the world [as well as] here at home and all the experiences we are collectively having.” It is worth noting that the day before this performance, the 47th President of the United States–who will only be referred to as such–publicly and unabashedly berated Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy for his supposed lack of gratitude. The United States has continued to support Ukraine’s war effort as the Russo-Ukrainian War escalates. Their collaboration with the Ukrainian artists began back in 2022, a particularly devastating time for Ukraine as the war raged onward. 

Executive and Co-Artistic Director Paul Gordon Emerson shares that his inspirations for choreography come from a number of sources: life experience, what the music asks of him, and the Company | E dancers. He encourages them to share their humanity with him, drawing from the widths and depths of their individual experiences to create the robust narratives they share onstage. 

I ask, “How do you all negotiate trust within the collective as well as honoring your own boundaries?” Their partner work is risky and fascinating, and I can imagine how daunting it is to literally throw one’s self or fully give body weight to another person while moving between steps. “This particular group of people has been together for a while,” Company | E Managing Director, Education Director, and dancer shared. “I would say, for me, because this group of people is so close and trusting of each other–I know there were moments tonight that I fell, and I just fell freely because I knew that I was going to be caught.” The company continuously checks in with each other during the rehearsal process, ensuring that no person experiences pain or discomfort. They approach their repertory, particularly the partner work, as a team. So much of the work of relationship-building and navigating challenges–through movement and through life–starts with trust. Given the ongoing political, social, and cultural unrest that I see unfolding in my day to day life, trust feels difficult to establish. Tension abounds. 

“Through their moments of shared struggle and intimate risk-taking, Heart Still Beating exemplified the trials and beauty that accompany our relationships and intentional investments in community.” 

“These are unusual times we live in. And these people do, in my opinion anyway, such extraordinary work. But a lot of the power that they share with you is actually the power that we draw from you…I don’t think it’s ever been more important than it is right now,” Emerson shares. The 47th President of the United States has vowed to strip the nation of its diversity, equity, and inclusion efforts, and naturally, the arts are in his direct line of fire. In a few short months, we have seen mass layoffs at the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, a national hub for performing arts presentation; targeted, public attacks on the work of queer and trans artists; the flat-out unsanctioned abduction of immigrants; and the ongoing exploitation and disparagement of Black and Brown people just to name a few issues. There is a concerted effort to silence the voices that must be heard most. It’s almost as if the powers that be know just how valuable our voices can be. Acknowledgment of the harms inflicted on us is a clear admission of guilt. I suppose it is easier for them to attempt trampling the masses. Attempt. 

“We have a chance to move together; we also have a chance to say that this is a community that stands up and supports each other…keep building, keep growing, keep moving, and keep saying, ‘I am going to stand up. I am going to have something to say,” Emerson continues. Through their moments of shared struggle and intimate risk-taking, Heart Still Beating exemplified the trials and beauty that accompany our relationships and intentional investments in community. It amplified the necessity for trust, within ourselves, our neighbors, and our larger community to combat the disasters metastasizing around us in an effort to bind us. Trust begets ease, release, and freedom. How radiant could we be if we lived freely? 

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