Cutler Majestic Theatre, Boston, MA.
November 15, 2025.
Life can be a lot, and sometimes we just need joy: pure, unadulterated joy. From wedding dance floors to block party grooves to simply dancing alone in one’s room to favorite tunes, dance is a shared wellspring for it. I AM, from Camille A. Brown & Dancers, demonstrated that such elation can fill fancy theaters, too – resonating from an onstage ensemble all the way to the back of the house. Acting as authentic moving humans more than “performers”, per-se, they brought us right into their blissful kinetic absorption.
Both program notes and a pre-recorded pre-show address from Brown herself encouraged audience members to step right in – to participate in call-and-response if they are so called, to “stomp, snap, and sing along” in an “active, dynamic conversation between the dancers, musicians, and you, the audience” (from Theresa Ruth Howard).
With such African Diasporic elements, as well as various movement vocabularies within that tradition, I AM builds upon Brown’s previous works that take “audiences on a journey from oppression to liberation.” As a fourth installment, this work “is a love letter expressed through the body.” It affirmed that such a love letter, one oozing with exultation, very much has a place in the art form of concert dance. It doesn’t have to be so self-serious nor exclusive; all are welcome in the call and response, in the boundless bliss.
Infectious joy began to fill the theater from the first notes. Dancers slowly accumulated, but often quickly shifted groupings – echoing how different dancers will cycle through the center of a cypher. Their movements were precise, yet also full of ease and flow. The ensemble moved tight to the body but also expanded out into a space, bringing varied levels of explosiveness to both types in turn.
Cheering, clapping and laughing at appropriate times, the audience was not afraid to respond in the enthusiastic way that Brown and program notes had encouraged. This was not the atmosphere of your grandma’s concert dance performance. And I cherished it.
The ensemble wore different styles of white and darker tops and bottoms – connecting them as a community, but underscoring their place as individuals (costume design by Ashley Soliman). The backdrop contributed effects that helped to underscore changes in atmosphere and mood: neon for more of a modern electronica feel, text in colorful graffiti font to deepen a street feel (“elevate” and “rise up” – empowering in its simplicity!). (Lighting and scenic design was done by David L. Arsenault, and projection design by Aaron Rhyne.)
Just as Brown also specified, various types of African Diasporic movement styles were evident: tap, jazz, stepping, majorette-style lines, as a short list. The dancers were equally commanding in long balletic shapes as they were in street-style undulations and isolations.
This cornucopia of movement all blended to be simply movement, rather than an amalgamation of still-distinct styles – danced by moving humans rather than “dancers”. A big part of that authenticity seemed to be the personality shining through each individual dancer; they seemed to be dancing as 120 percent themselves rather than as any kind of persona – and having an absolute blast doing just that. I felt myself smiling to experience it. “I AM” indeed!
A live drummer and violinist sometimes accompanied the movement – louder and softer, more upbeat in tempo and more languid in turn. The drumming supported step movement, in particular, and the violin a more jazzy feel to the movement in certain sections.
The ensemble added their own clapping at times, a reflection of step dance tradition – and which also even more fully immersed them in the live moment. They even sometimes moved with an unexpected relationship with the score: half or double-time, for example. Brown and her company are clearly not afraid to test the limits of timing and what we in the audience might expect of it.
I was curious how their call-and-response played into the accompaniment, how much the dancers played off the musicians and vice-versa. The program notes “invited” audience members to guess the songs the musicians were covering, and that will also remain an intriguing mystery for me (perhaps I would do well to dig deeper into these genres!).
All of that aside, a few particular sections deserve discussion here. The lightning-fast, explosive movement of the opening softened into a much softer, more somber and reflective solo. Technical and physical strength were solid foundation for the soloist’s touching soulfulness and kinetic sensitivity: a commendable reflection of the slower, more lyrical style of street dance now staking its claim in concert dance.
The next solo brought playfulness – more unique reflections of personality. Athletic breaking smoothly blended with simple footwork and articulations. A subsequent trio added a bit of suave and confident cool to the mix, hips and ribcages rolling along with strong beats in the accompaniment.
Later, gesture and theatricality suggested meaning, and even perhaps a bit of narrative: the “thinker pose” moving into visceral self-exploration, the group seeming to surround this individual in support. These moments had plenty of aesthetic and sensory value even without much clearer meaning, however. Overall, this was a party, bursting with levity and freedom. Yet Brown’s intentional structuring of all these pieces of varied tone and tenor – that was also quite clear.
All of these ways of moving, of being: they were all welcome at the party. Displays of sincere care, right there on the stage, were welcome too; several pairs of dancers embraced in hugs before, after, or in the midst of their sections. More than heartwarming (and that it certainly was), these moments felt like confirmation of the overall ethos filling the stage: of community, of lifting one another up, of freedom to be an individual (very much so) and still be an immensely valued member of the collective.
Indeed, even without clear narrative, such deep meanings were there to take in. The feeling in the ether even got spiritual with a duet later in the work, with the dancers so fully invested with every fiber of mind, body, and spirit – all toward a presence of sincere thoughtfulness. They held hands and spun, leaning back with hearts lifted, just as we all used to do in schoolyards. Why should that sort of kinetic bliss be only for children?
Stillness coming soon after that offered powerful contrast. Action and rest: humans need both. Both are not only welcome at the party, but arguably should both be there. More stillness and reflectiveness came with a memorable solo offering a sense of coming to liberation – repeated gestures dissipating and the score speaking “you are not in a prison, you are yourself.”
Perhaps the key to unlock prisons of our own design are right in ourselves – in truly being ourselves, the mentality for which this program would seem to advocate. To that end, the soloist moved with violin- and piano-playing gestures towards the end of her solo. Some could critique this as too obvious, too elementary, or even (sigh) “cringe.” Yet to me, it felt joyful and truthful, and that mattered most. The musicians (Juliette Jones, Martine Mauro-Wade, and Meech) also got their time in the spotlight, literally, after this solo – offering audience members the space to appreciate their individuality and artistry.
Several more vibrant, dynamic group sections then transpired – hips swiveling, limbs snaking, feet nimble – before we came to a closing section. Many of the dancers had a chance to move in the center of a cypher, the singular individual held within a supportive community. Together they pointed down and then up to stage right, standing stalwart and proud. “I AM” filled the backdrop as they claimed this space and closed the work.
The dancers took their bows from the cypher, moving all the while. They kept moving as the curtain dropped. It seemed like they truly didn’t want to stop…and I understood why. I could see how much bliss they found in each moving moment: calling and responding, individuals within the uplifting collective. They invited us into their infectious ectasy, and I caught the fever. I hope to again, and thank Camille A. Brown & Dancers for so generously sharing that authentic bliss with each of us in the audience.
Kathryn Boland of Dance Informa.
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