Some Silks, Straps, a Hoop, a Trapeze, and a 12-Foot Spiral Walk Into a Theater…

Aerial Ignition: ETHEReality

Part of Atlas INTERSECTIONS FESTIVAL

Atlas Performing Arts Center

March 13, 2026 at 8:00 pm

By Ashayla Byrd

“I don’t really know what to say about the aerial class! It was HARD and required a lot of upper body strength. I’m strong, but some stuff just worked muscles that I usually don’t work. It was fun being upside down, though, and my instructor used to work for NASA! She went to England and randomly joined the circus.”

I sent that text on March 4, 2019, when I took an aerial silks class my sophomore year of college. I have not taken a silks class since! After seeing Aerial Ignition’s performance, ETHEReality, at the 2026 INTERSECTIONS Festival hosted by the Atlas Performing Arts Center, my curiosity about the aerial arts has skyrocketed! The program notes, “Each performer from Aerial Ignition draws from lived experience to share stories of being ‘othered,’ silenced, or separated, ultimately finding voice, movement, and freedom in the air.” This company further expanded my understanding of all that dance artistry can be by virtue of their existence. 

When I walk into the theater, I have no expectations. More than anything, I have questions about how all of this would work. Perhaps I’m friends with too many theater technicians to let theater magic be just that: magic. Would there be mats all over the ground? What kind of fly system did the Atlas Performing Arts Center have? Would there be loads and loads of silks hanging from the rig? How can you even synchronize the movements for aerial silks? You can’t really predict the movement of such a flimsy apparatus, can you? On second thought, I have plenty of expectations without anywhere to put them. Oh, Ashayla. Just let magic be magic.

Beneath the ivory glow of a single spotlight cascading downward, Aerial Ignition founder Sydney Ignacio carves the space surrounding him with both strength and elegance before releasing the energy he so carefully crafts into the air. He is plain-clothed, sporting a light-colored button-down shirt and dark-wash jeans. His virtually unending tendrils of onyx, wavy hair whirl with him. Ignacio utilizes a free-flowing contemporary dance vocabulary heavily coated with a ballet-esque sensibility: intentional hand and foot placement, clear shading and positioning of the arms when transitioning from one movement to the next, and a lofty carriage of the upper body. As he glides towards the stage’s center, two long, black straps descend from the stage’s rig, affixed to a pulley system used to raise and lower them. Oh, shit. There he goes! 

With the strength of a thousand pull-ups, Ignacio takes hold of the straps, turns on his feet to gain momentum, and hoists himself upward. The audience cheers for the impressive shapes he creates in the sky, the vigor of his sky-dancing only heightened by the depth of his emotion. I remember that the aerial arts fall under both the dance and circus umbrellas, hence the thunderous applause. I guess it’s only concert dance that’s a bit more–erm–silent. A still airborne Ignacio wraps the black straps around his outstretched forearms and beams his chest upward with bone-straight legs and pointed toes. At the pinnacle of his performance, Ignacio is grace and serenity embodied. His flight mesmerizes. 

Following Ignacio, projections of vibrant flowers bloom in all of their radiance before wilting. Justin Bieber’s “Lonely” colors the air a melancholic hue. Aerial artist Candy Cantu slinks and swirls her way onto a neon pink pole hooked to the pulley system. Cantu teaches me in real time that even pole dancers are not confined to the ground! Sporting a red, glittering corset, she exhibits an effortless control of both the pole and her body. I gasp when I watch Cantu extend and hold her leg so far that her shin touches her ear. While somehow gripping the pole and her leg with both arms, she spins on the pole–I forgot to mention–upside down. My mouth falls agape for most of her performance. 

A brisk video of a bustling coastal pier pans across the backdrop of the stage, and aerialist Thomas Martin wistfully tosses a paper airplane onstage before exiting. Shortly after, Kyle Suib retrieves it before exiting the stage himself. I perk up when I see the aerial silks attached to the pulley. Martin twirls in the air like the winged seeds of maple trees, revolving and shifting between the ever-stretching silks. In my post-show Google searches, I learned that footlocks–wrapping the fabric around one’s foot–and hip locks–securing the fabric around the hip for suspension and support–are essential to staying secure while dancing. I am most taken with the clarity of his movement. The influence of ballet technique courses through the extension of his legs, his uber-pointed toes, and his rather turned-out hips. He is having the time of his life! 

Next, self-professed “jet-setting corporate exec” Colleen Jolly speaks to the dangers of greed through her lyra (hoop) solo. A clip of Michael Douglas from the 1987 film Wall Street plays. He says: “The point is, ladies and gentlemen, that greed, for lack of a better word, is good. Greed is right, greed works. Greed clarifies, cuts through and captures the essence of the evolutionary spirit.” Dressed in a charcoal blazer and dress pants, Jolly manages to balance on both a desk chair and the lyra, utilizing demonstrative contemporary floorwork to shift between the two. I clap immediately when Jolly, turning and hanging upside down from the lyra, lowers her legs into a wide straddle. Overall, I appreciate the emotional depth she portrays not only through her movement, but also through her facial expressions. 

On The Aforementioned Notion of Magic: The clipping and unclipping of each aerial apparatus makes for lengthy transitions from piece to piece. For me, this creates room for the “magic” of live performing arts to dwindle. This is noticeable because of the blue overhead, albeit dim, lighting used to make it possible for production staff to correctly attach each of the apparatuses to the pulley. The curtains remain open between each of the pieces. Of course, that magic is not really “magic” at all. It is a group of dedicated theater technicians doing their best to ensure the safety of the artists onstage and the audience experiencing them. I do wonder whether the proscenium theater setting is the most effective space for this equipment. What kind of rigging system would make the experience seamless? Then again, is the goal for the logistical production aspects of a performance to be virtually invisible at all times? Is visible effort “un-magical”? Many of these musings flood my mind when I see three crew members finagle a bit, hook a twelve-foot spiral onto the pulley, wait for some time, adjust the spiral more, and exit the stage before the next performer enters the space. 

The familiar instrumentation of “I Dreamed a Dream” emanates throughout the theater, and aerial artist Emmy Cho mounts the enormous spiral. Wearing a high-necked, form-fitted white sports bra, white briefs, and a sheer white skirt, Cho and the spiral churn the air. It is clear to me that Cho, too, has a ballet background. Her extensions develop in the air with such poise and elegance; her pointed, always turned-out feet punctuate her movement sentences. Watching Cho circulate within and around the spiral feels like an optical illusion at times. I know that the spiral turns because of Cho’s movement, but it feels as if the spiral goes on forever, both upwards and downwards. The effect is mesmerizing. The haunting lyrics of “I Dreamed a Dream” create a sobering atmosphere: “I had a dream my life would be / So different from this hell I’m living / So different now from what it seemed / Now life has killed the dream I dreamed.” Knowing that the artists drew from personal experience in the creation of each of their solos, I wonder what moment in Cho’s life made such stirring words resonant for her. 

The following solo, presented by aerialist Gwynne Flanagan, glides in with the beauty of a beachside sunset projected onto the theater’s wall. Birds hover and flit above the shoreline, and the warm glow of the sun blends hues of vermilion, amber, gold, and apricot with a watercolor effect. I travel to a more restful space in my mind, marveling at the tone of Flanagan’s arm muscles as she ascends her aerial fabrics. More than anything, the experience is tranquil. Flanagan’s foot- and hip-locks are so brisk that I hardly notice her preparing to move from one position to the next. Just as the birds do, Flanagan floats in the air. She is especially adept at performing what the aerial arts community calls “drops” or “dives”, where she wraps a significant amount of fabric around herself before releasing it suddenly. It creates a swift, but controlled free fall that transitions the aerialist into a new pose. Thank you, Google. It is startling to watch, but so expertly performed that I cannot help but “oooo” and “aaahhh” along with the audience. 

Speaking of “oooo” and “aaahhh”, Candy Cantu reappears to one-up herself, using her hair as an apparatus. Introduced by a blurred, swirling, electric blue and candy apple red projection of a woman on the back wall, Cantu hooks the pulley to a ring fastened into her bun of hair. The speed at which she spins reminds me of the rapid turns an ice skater completes in air before landing on the ice and thrusting out an arm and leg to stick their landing. As flexible as ever, Cantu pulls and holds one of her legs towards her body, touching her face, while her second leg hangs downward, creating one straight line. This time, she revolves around the stage like the drawing leg of a compass. A multi-talented performing artist, Cantu dazzles with her strength, flexibility, and commanding stage presence. When she makes her way back down to the stage for her closing pose, the audience erupts with applause, probably from both sheer awe and relief. 

Turns out, Thomas Martin and Kyle Suib have a duo act! I wager that their initial paper airplane exchange was meant to foreshadow this performance. Both clad in charcoal- and black-striped biker shorts, Martin and Suib set up mats beneath the trapeze. Suib primarily serves as Martin’s base throughout the duet, a tremendous feat of strength that he performs largely upside down! Martin creates several inverted shapes by quickly swinging upward, partially releasing Suib’s grip, and reconnecting with him. Sometimes Martin pulls a leg to his ear with the opposite arm, widens his legs into a near-perfect straddle, hooks one or both legs onto Suib’s arm or the trapeze, or any other impressive combination of those positions. From the volume of risk required to perform their act, I can feel the deep trust that Suib and Martin have in one another.

I will admit that in my pure shock from witnessing each of these incredible acts, I did not have time to stop myself and ask, “…And what does it all mean?” The artists had me spellbound. Fortunately, they were willing to share the intent behind each of their presentations in the post-show conversation. Each of these storytelling aerial artists used their bodies and apparatuses in tandem to share their own perspectives on several ubiquitous themes: the quest for inner peace, isolation and loneliness, the weight of greed, resilience, empowerment as a woman, and the value of trust and support in companionship, to name a few. Aerial Ignition’s performance, ETHEReality, at the 2026 Atlas INTERSECTIONS Festival truly expanded my horizons regarding all that dance includes, the aerial arts and circus spheres, and all that can actually be performed in a proscenium theater. I am so grateful to have been exposed to Aerial Ignition’s artistry and will certainly seek out more aerial experiences. Who knows? Maybe I will find my way back to the silks. Gwynne Flanagan proclaimed post-show: “ANYBODY can do circus…Just freaking try it!”

Written by Ashayla Byrd for Dancing in the District.

Ashayla Byrd (she/they) (@abyrdnyca) is a DC-based dance artist and writer who is dedicated to amplifying the voices of BIPOC, LGBTQIA+ folks. Originally from Virginia Beach, Ashayla is eager to explore the richness of DC’s dance and writing communities!