IN THIS EDITION:Interview with choreographer Akram Khan in anticipation of Akram Khan Company’s final touring production: Thikra: Night of Remembering. The U.S. tour opens at Lincoln Center July 2-5, continues to Jacob’s Pillow July 8-12, and travels this fall to North Carolina and California before continuing internationally.For the past twenty-five years, Akram Khan has been one of the defining choreographic voices of our time. Drawing on Kathak, contemporary dance, theater, and myth, he has created works that ask some of our biggest questions: How does memory live in the body? What do we inherit from those who came before us? And how can dance express what language cannot?In this conversation, we talk about the evolution of his artistic language—from Kaash to DESH, XENOS, and Thikra: Night of Remembering—why memory and ritual have become central to his work, what led him to close the company after twenty-five years, and where he believes choreography is headed next.Want more interviews, reviews, lives and deep dives? Subscribe to The Dance Lens Substack here: https://thedancelens.substack.com/ Get full access to The Dance Lens with Cynthia Dragoni at thedancelens.substack.com/subscribe

Today’s guest is Ormsby Wilkins, the longtime Music Director of American Ballet Theatre, who will conclude his tenure with the company at the end of the 2026 summer season after more than two decades shaping its sound.A native of Sydney, Australia, Wilkins has spent more than forty years in ballet. Before joining ABT in 2005, he served as music director of the National Ballet of Canada for sixteen years and conducted with England’s Sadler’s Wells Royal Ballet, now the Birmingham Royal Ballet. Over the course of his career, he has led everything from the nineteenth-century classics to newly commissioned works, collaborating with generations of dancers, choreographers, and musicians.As he prepares to conduct his final performances with ABT—including Swan Lake, Onegin, Don Quixote, and Sylvia—we look back on a career spent in the orchestra pit and at the heart of some of ballet’s most enduring productions.In our conversation, Wilkins reflects on the art of conducting for dance, the evolution of ballet music over the past four decades, and what he has learned from a lifetime spent bringing these works to life.Join us on Dance Lens Substack for reviews, interviews and lives: https://thedancelens.substack.com/ Get full access to The Dance Lens with Cynthia Dragoni at thedancelens.substack.com/subscribe

Join us for a conversation with choreographer Sophie Laplane and director James Bonas, the collaborators behind Scottish Ballet’s Mary, Queen of Scots (Lincoln Center Koch Theater June 4-7 2026), which draws on the imagined relationship between Mary Stuart and Elizabeth I. The production blends classical ballet, theater, punk aesthetics, and contemporary visual language.Sophie Laplane is the Resident Choreographer at Scottish Ballet, where she creates works that fuse classical ballet vocabulary with contemporary theatrical sensibility across stage, opera, and award-winning dance films. James Bonas is a theater and opera director known for multidisciplinary collaborations across ballet, opera, animation, and visual performance.We talk about choreography, power, historical memory, and what it means to make ambitious new narrative ballet in 2026.Tickets to Mary Queen of Scots June 4-7 Join us on the Dance Lens Substack for more deep dives, interviews, reviews and lives! https://thedancelens.substack.com/ Get full access to The Dance Lens with Cynthia Dragoni at thedancelens.substack.com/subscribe

INTERVIEW: Christine Cox, co-founder and Artistic and Executive Director of BalletX, Philadelphia’s premier contemporary ballet company, which she founded alongside choreographer Matthew Neenan in 2005. In two decades of leadership, Cox has built BalletX into one of the most distinctive forces in contemporary ballet, producing over 150 world premiere works by more than 80 choreographers and performing at venues like Jacob’s Pillow, New York City Center and The Joyce Theater.She’s here ahead of the Festival at Highmark Mann in Philadelphia, June 4th and 5th, featuring the world premiere of The Four Seasons Reimagined — an epic love letter to Mother Nature, with composer and electronic music innovator Dan Deacon and four world-renowned choreographers take on each season: Morgann Runacre-Temple Summer, Penny Saunders Fall, Jamar Roberts Winter, and Trey McIntyre Spring.Before founding BalletX, Cox was a member of Pennsylvania Ballet — now Philadelphia Ballet — for over a decade. Today we’re talking about her work at BalletX, what it takes to build a contemporary ballet company from the ground up, and what’s coming next.Want more great dance content? Join us on Dance Lens Substack for reviews, interviews, deep dives and LIVES!https://thedancelens.substack.com/ Get full access to The Dance Lens with Cynthia Dragoni at thedancelens.substack.com/subscribe

INTERVIEW: Jessica Lang on career-making, creativity and the hidden realities of becoming a choreographer.In anticipation of the All Lang program at Pacific Northwest Ballet. May 29-June 7 featuring ‘Her Door to the Sky’, ‘Ghost Variations’, and ‘Zigzag’ Lang discusses the creative life and what it really takes to become a choreographer.Lang is one of the world’s most versatile and prolific choreographers. A graduate of the Juilliard School and former member of Twyla Tharp’s company, she has created over 100 works for some of the world’s most celebrated institutions — among them American Ballet Theatre, the Royal Ballet, Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater, and The Joffrey Ballet.Her work moves fluidly between ballet, contemporary dance, and opera, and has taken her from the stages of Lincoln Center to the Guggenheim to San Francisco Opera. She is currently Resident Choreographer at Pacific Northwest Ballet and Artist in Residence at Sarasota Ballet.For more great dance content: interviews, reviews and lives join us on The Dance Lens Substack: https://thedancelens.substack.com/If you’re in Seattle, Pacific Northwest Ballet presents an all-Lang program from May 29th through June 7th, featuring Her Door to the Sky, Ghost Variations, and Zigzag. Get full access to The Dance Lens with Cynthia Dragoni at thedancelens.substack.com/subscribe

In this episode, we review the luminous interpretations of The Firebird at Dance Theatre of Harlem and its relationship to New York City Ballet’s. Both works are a deluge of beauty and an ocean of visual richness. Though distinct in style and staging, these productions are deeply connected through history, lineage, and artistic exchange.At the center of that connection is Arthur Mitchell, founding force of Dance Theatre of Harlem and former principal dancer at NYCB under George Balanchine. Mitchell’s career bridges these two worlds in profound ways: shaped by Balanchine’s choreography, including works created on him such as Agon and A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and later transformed by his mission to build something entirely new. In 1969, in the wake of the civil rights era and the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr., Mitchell co-founded Dance Theatre of Harlem with Karel Shook—establishing a school and company where Black dancers could train, perform, and thrive in classical ballet. In that context, DTH itself became both artistic achievement and cultural critique, a bold act of resistance and redefinition.Balanchine’s influence carried forward not only through aesthetics but through direct support: he served as one of DTH’s early board members and encouraged Mitchell to create a version of Firebird for the company. When it premiered in 1982, it was met with acclaim, praised for its inventive staging and audience-shifting energy.Where Balanchine and Fokine’s versions of Firebird evoke mythic, wintry Russia, Dance Theatre of Harlem’s interpretation transports us into a Caribbean dreamscape—lush, humid, and alive with color and sound. Giant tropical florals hang over the stage, and Stravinsky’s score anchors the work across all versions, while the Firebird herself arrives in strikingly theatrical ways, including a flash of red light that feels almost playful in its simplicity.The production thrives in its contrasts: methodical character work against playful theatricality, luminous principals against a shifting ensemble, and moments of imperfect stagecraft that remind us of ballet’s evolving relationship with illusion. At its center is the Firebird, whose presence is a metaphor and a force of nature.Though Firebird has not been performed by DTH since 2004, its legacy remains a significant part of the company’s identity, reflecting both its artistic ambition and its historical role in reshaping who gets to inhabit classical ballet’s most iconic roles.If you want more reviews, interviews, deep dives, and LIVES, make sure you join me on Dance Lens Substack—linked HERE: https://thedancelens.substack.com/ Get full access to The Dance Lens with Cynthia Dragoni at thedancelens.substack.com/subscribe

REVIEW: Kyle Abraham’s Cassette Vol. 1 at NYU Skirball transforms the 1980s into a neon-lit dreamscape of camp, nostalgia, and grief. Blending choreography, pop culture, and memory, the work moves through vignettes that blur the line between past and present, surface and undercurrent. In this episode, we explore how Abraham and his company A.I.M turn analog aesthetics into something more fragile and reflective—where memory is both a performance and a distortion, and the past is never fully retrievable, only reimagined.Join us on Substack for more reviews, podcasts, interviews articles and subscriber only lives! https://thedancelens.substack.com/ Get full access to The Dance Lens with Cynthia Dragoni at thedancelens.substack.com/subscribe

IN THIS EDITION: REVIEW: American Ballet Theater Spring Season 2026 “Othello” in 2 casts.What does Othello reveal about ballet, then and now? This episode revisits American Ballet Theatre’s landmark production through a contemporary lens, tracing its ambition alongside the questions it leaves unresolved—around gender, agency, and whose stories are allowed to take center stage.Join me on Substack for a closer conversation—essays, interviews, and live salons at the intersection of dance, culture, and history.JOIN US ON SUBSTACK: https://thedancelens.substack.com/ Get full access to The Dance Lens with Cynthia Dragoni at thedancelens.substack.com/subscribe

IN THIS EDITION-Review: Amercian Ballet Theater in The Firebird. Performed on March 13, 2026.-Misty Copeland at the OscarsFIREBIRD REVIEW:This was my first time seeing The Firebird by Alexei Ratmansky which premiered in 2012 and hasn’t been performed since 2018, almost a decade ago. This Firebird’s dark whimsy calls back to earlier fairytales, like those of the aptly named Brothers Grimm. It is at once childlike and very adult, equal parts dreams and wonder alongside power struggles and sexuality. It opens with Ivan, danced by Daniel Camargo, dressed entirely in white, lying in front of a large white building. He gathers the courage to go in search of his lost love—the first departure from the original story (where he is in search of a magical golden apple tree).We follow him into a forest of large, metallic, mechanical-looking “trees,” structures resembling monstrous wrists and hands reaching from the ground toward the sky. Their branches stretch directly upward at varying lengths, some topped with red lights that resemble fingernails. Then there appears not one but an entire flock of male and female firebirds. They are all dressed in red bodysuits: the women with feathered bustle skirts and the men with pointed feathered headpieces. They flood the stage, forming a luscious view—albeit a slightly cluttered one. The upper half of the composition feels oddly bare with so many grounded birds; it makes one wish they could actually make use of the sky.Suddenly the lady of the hour enters: the Firebird, played by Catherine Hurlin in her debut in the role. The casting is superb. When Ratmansky first choreographed Firebird, the role was created on Misty Copeland, Natalia Osipova and Isabella Boylston. Osipova who danced in the premiere, was a technical phenomenon, Copeland could be almost lethal in her exactitude and Boylston even in her early career moved with an untamed quality. Hurlin steps neatly into those responsibilities. A perfect inheritor, she is quick and precise, an excellent jumper, and more importantly: her presence rises to the task. She stood out among the flock even before it was fully clear that she was the dancer in the titular role.Catherine Hurlin at curtain call March 13, 2026 Photo: C. DragoniIvan, in his character’s entitlement, captures her, and their connection is sexually charged. She meets him not as a different species but as a female in disguise. She eventually escapes and gives him one of her magic feathers to wave if he ever needs help. In the original, Ivan takes pity on the freedom-loving bird and purposefully releases her, so the gift of the feather is an exchange of care and compassion. Here, her would-be captor is outsmarted, yet she still leaves a piece of herself behind.Ivan continues his journey and a horde of young women appears. They’re called maidens, though they read more like a cross between aliens and nineteenth-century bar wenches. They’re all dressed in green dresses with green and yellow curly wigs (the whole ballet is an exercise in color blocking). They are at once grotesque and charming, as if they’re only partly human. They proceed to dance, eat, nap and throw occasional temper tantrums. (Stomping tantrums are a motif you’ll see elsewhere in Alexei Ratmansky’s work, such as in the party scene of The Nutcracker, where you’ve never seen so many angry children at a Christmas party.)Ivan is nonetheless attracted to them—or at least to one. I suppose there’s no accounting for taste in fairytales or in real life. He thinks she may be his lost love; one can only assume it’s his intuition telling him this.Scene from Firebird. Photo: Gene SchiavoneThen in comes the evil magician Kaschei, played by Cory Stearns (who is sadly retiring this June), first revealed to us as an enormous, ominous shadow. It’s always enjoyable when story ballets fully sweep you into their larger-than-life worlds, and the technology in this production does just that. With ample use of projected visuals, it creates Kaschei’s foreboding presence, expands and contracts our sense of depth, and signals the passage of time.Kaschei matches his maidens: his hair is green, his face painted white, and he has the dark humor that makes so many villains fun to play. As if Batman’s Joker auditioned for the ballet and was immediately cast.The main maiden was played by rising soloist Sunmi Park. Park has beautiful lines and a supreme delicacy similar to that of longtime American Ballet Theater principal Hee Seo; the two also share the same early training at Sunhwa Arts Middle School in Seoul, Korea. The bizarre slapstick comedy required for this role made Park appear somewhat self-conscious. I was always aware that I was watching Sunmi Park pretending to be funny. This is not a comment on her overall talent, many of the world’s greatest actresses could not inhabit Lucille Ball’s roles, which is just as well.The maidens under the magician’s spell, are at once afraid of him and attracted to him. This is another note that sets this Firebird apart from the original: here the captive maidens have a more overtly complex relationship with their keeper, something like a case of mass Stockholm syndrome. Ratmansky’s version, even more than the original, makes Kaschei a figure who is both an individual dictator and a representative of a broader, more insidious patriarchy. Society is sickened and distorted under his rule. Women in particular are proprietary objects. In the original they retain their beauty, but are merely trapped. In Ratmansky’s, their identities are warped in service of the master—or the system.Cory Stearns in Firebird. Photo: Rosalie O’Connor PhotographyThis Kaschei also reminds us that many myths and fairytales are fundamentally about dominance and sexual predation. Why does this evil male figure have so many maidens in his charge? A similar dynamic appears in Swan Lake. In the prelude, the maiden is captured, and she (along with the other “swan maidens,” all owned by a single sinister male figure) is cursed to be a swan by day and a woman by night. The world-weary among us understand why they are permitted to regain their female forms after dark.Daniel Camargo & Sunmi Park The sorcerer begins casting his malevolent spell on Ivan when the hero takes out and waves his magic feather, and—as promised—the Firebird appears (though I still cannot work out why she owes her former captor a rescue; it still seems to me like a classic fawning response). It’s a relief to have her back onstage, for the maidens and for us, the audience. The Firebird’s choreography returns to musical sense, and I feel compelled to reiterate how thrilling Hurlin is in this role. One could interpret the musical disregard as a comment on Kaschei’s controlling nature, or on the group madness that sets in when the hive mind is agitated. Either way, the dissonance aggravates the eye (and the ear) of the beholder.Kaschei is a character who appears throughout Russian folklore, known as Kaschei the Deathless. His immortality comes from the fact that his soul is kept outside his body: in the eye of a needle, inside an egg, within a hare, inside of a duck, locked in a box, buried beneath an oak tree on an island far, far away. In The Firebird, it is simply inside an egg hidden within one of the metallic trees. The all-knowing Firebird (eventually) leads Ivan to the egg, and he smashes it, releasing Kaschei’s soul and breaking all of his spells. The maidens return to their true beauty, and to their loves—who have been trapped inside the trees all along. American Ballet Theater’s Firebird is one of three Firebird productions in New York alone, the others being staged at Dance Theatre of Harlem in April and New York City Ballet in late April into May. And additional productions being performed in Seattle at Pacific Northwest Ballet and in California at San Diego City Ballet. Artists and the arts institutions are frequently— intentionally or unconsciously—commenting on their times. Firebird is a fairytale, but is also archetypal folklore. It’s characters live within our psyches and our histories and it seems like no accident that it is being staged all at once all across the country.Misty Copeland 2026 “Sinners” Oscars Performance in Dance Theatre of Harlem Firebird CostumeSpeaking of our times, if you caught Misty Copeland’s performance at the Oscars last Sunday, then you saw her in Dance Theatre of Harlem’s Firebird costume. The appearance of Misty Copeland in the Sinners Oscars performance draws directly from the film itself, which features a surreal “red ballerina” figure moving through one of its musical sequences. That image, already evocative of myth and transformation, was brought to life onstage by casting Copeland, whose own career is closely tied to roles like the Firebird. In this way, the performance translated a cinematic metaphor into a live one, using ballet as part of the storytelling. At the same time, her presence carried a broader cultural resonance, positioning ballet within a mainstream, highly visible space and quietly asserting its continued relevance.We’ll take a deeper look at DTH’s Firebird (playing in NYC April 16-19) in another episode but it is a historic and beloved production. Its vibrant, Caribbean inspired sets and fantastical costumes were designed by multi hyphenate artist Geoffrey Holder and choreographed by John Taras. Premiering in 1982 its first firebird was the gorgeous DTH star Stephanie Dabney. FIREBIRD DRAWING R METCALF COLLECTION. Courtesy of Dance Theatre of Harlem Get full access to The Dance Lens with Cynthia Dragoni at thedancelens.substack.com/subscribe

IN THIS EDITION: -Interview with Serge Laurent, Director of Dance & Cultural Programs at Van Cleef & Arpels on the role of curation in dance’s development.-Upcoming LIVE TALK Seeing Dance: The Sleeping Beauty Then & Now Tues Feb 24. As the Dance Reflections Festival returns to New York City (February 19–March 21, 2026), I spoke with Serge Laurent, Director of Dance & Cultural Programs at Van Cleef & Arpels, about how studying art history—rather than choreography—shaped the way he learned to see dance.For Laurent, dance is not only the art of movement but the art of space. He reads bodies the way others read sculpture or architecture, attending to structure, detail, and lineage. Choreographers, he argues, are researchers: artists who invent new languages while working in conversation with history.We discuss why contemporary dance cannot be separated from what came before, why curating is an act of support rather than direction, and why a festival should offer experience rather than consensus.Below are *lightly edited* excerpts from the interview, full conversation in the podcast above. EXITABOVE NYU Skirball March 5-7 Photo: Anne Van AerschotCynthia: You come to dance through a background in contemporary art and institutional programming rather than choreography itself. How did your background shape the way you first learned to read dance?Serge: In fact, I studied art history. My major at École du Louvre was ancient art and archaeology. When you study visual art and ancient art, you learn to look at things in detail. By focusing on details, you understand the work. So when I started attending dance performances, I was really struck by these moving bodies. The body is everywhere in art history—painting, sculpture, monuments—and suddenly seeing bodies in motion was fascinating.I remember looking at every single movement like a sculpture in motion. I didn’t have any background in dance, so it was a real discovery. Dance is a visual art, but in motion. One of the first shows I attended was Goldberg Variations by Steve Paxton. I was amazed by the precision, the fluidity. It’s probably because of this performer and a few others that I really fell in love with dance.When you look at a painting, you have a frame and a notion of space. Painters and sculptors deal with space all the time. Dance is, of course, the art of movement, but it’s also the art of space. On stage, choreographers and dancers invent new ways of using that space. They’re researchers, inventing new languages—just like contemporary artists.Artists are researchers. They invent new languages. —Serge LaurentEXITABOVE NYU Skirball March 5-7 Photo: Anne Van AerschotCynthia: And we think of dance as being the art of movement, but so much of it is about geometry and poses. It reads almost as beautifully in a photograph as it does in movement. So that translation makes a lot of sense.Serge: I had the chance to work after my studies in contexts combining different art disciplines—trans-disciplinary institutions—with Fondation Cartier. I created this program called Nomadic Nights, and it was the wish of the director at that time to bring inside the gallery other art disciplines: theater, music, dance, fashion, et cetera. And I was dealing with that for four years at Fondation Cartier.When I discovered dance a bit later, what interested me the most—is dance can be an art form in itself. I mean, no music, no stage, nothing. Just pure movement. And at the same time, it’s a discipline that can bring together all the other ones: visual arts, music, fashion, text, lights, video art, everything. Also, choreographers—they’re also into philosophy, literature. So I think it’s a very complete art form. And also it uses, I think, the most beautiful medium you can create your art with: the body. Since we share the same thing together, our bodies—it creates a direct empathy with the audience. The first time I approached dance, I was really touched. I’m not an artist, I’m on the other side, but we have something in common above words, above everything.Cynthia: Yes, and when we watch the dancer’s body we empathize not as a concept, but immediately. It’s the mirror neurons in the brain. When we see someone else doing something, we merge and have that experience. It works on the other side too. If you see someone in pain—like if you see someone injured on their shoulder—you’ll instinctively hold your shoulder. And the same with dance. It shows us who we could be. Like if you take a stone from the ground, a precious stone, and it’s covered in dirt and whatever, and you take all of that off—the stone was not transformed. You’re showing what it truly was. And that’s what dance is. It’s what we really are.The Dance Lens with Cynthia Dragoni is a reader-supported publication. Join me for subscriber ONLY live talks & classes (next one is Tues Feb 24)Cynthia: When you select artists for Dance Reflections, what are the non-negotiables? What must be present in the work or the artist?Serge: My curatorial practice started 25 years ago, so it’s a long time ago. And I would say that I always had the same approach with artists. They are free. I select them because of what they do. I will not ask them to do something.And today I work in a private institution, like a public one, managing this program on a curatorial basis. The idea is to support artists, but in fact, there is no limit. For example, sometimes people ask me, “When you approach a dance company and you support them in production, do you ask them this or that?” No. But I know who they are.What I want through this program is to invite people to experience something, it’s more than attending a new show for me. A festival is like an invitation to a journey. A journey where you discover something. Sometimes you appreciate this and that, sometimes there are things you appreciate less, but you experienced something—and that’s what is most important for me.Cynthia: That’s a beautiful analogy. When you’re on long journeys, actually a lot of the time you’re uncomfortable, and then you have these beautiful experiences, and it’s all part of the experience.Serge: What I like also is the way you enlarge your vision of the world. Because these languages—even if you attend the full season in the same city—you see different ways of re-transcribing the world, with different vocabularies, different approaches.It’s a way to enlarge your vision of the world, because when you travel, most of the time you don’t understand the local languages. And of course, English is very practical, but sometimes it’s difficult to communicate in certain countries. So you have to accept to communicate differently—through your eyes, your body, whatever.And I think when you approach a new language in contemporary art—we’re talking about dance, but we could say that for other artistic approaches—you have to receive things differently.What I appreciate is that when you get in a theater, hopefully people applaud at the end, and sometimes it’s very enthusiastic reactions. But if you look, no one receives the same thing. We are together attending something together, part of a community, and at the same time we keep our individuality and we can share opinions about the work with no crucial issues.The same show is presented in New York, in London, in Tokyo, in Shanghai, in Saudi Arabia recently, and I’m so moved by how different people from different cultures can receive something. Probably they receive something different, but they get something. We have something in common, and it’s something very essential to me.Mycelium New York City Center Feb 19-21 Photo: Agathe PoupeneyCynthia: Does location affect your curatorial choices?Serge: I would say yes and no. Because I have a curatorial vision, so I want to share it with all the different audiences we approach. But at the same time, when I’m in New York, I’m inspired by the history of New York. This city has such a strong history with dance. When I’m in London, it’s different. For example, recently I was in Sydney, Australia, and they were very keen to welcome us. And I met with Aboriginal dancers and traditional dance, and I said to myself, if one day I do a festival over there, I will probably include something local.We’re going to have a festival in Shanghai next year, and it’s such an exciting exercise for me too—to add in the programming two Chinese dance companies, one from Beijing, one from Shanghai.So the curatorial approach is the same. I say yes and no, because for me, even if I include a Chinese dance company from Beijing or a local dance company from Australia, it’s the same intellectual approach. For example, in London I decided to close the festival with pieces by George Balanchine from the twenties, and everybody said to me, “Wow, how come in the context of a contemporary dance festival you put works dating from such a long time ago?” And I said, because it’s a reference. It’s a reference we cannot miss. If contemporary dance is here now, it’s because of them, of what came before. There is an anchorage for this art discipline, and I think it’s essential to talk about it.Cynthia: The former dance critic from The New York Times, Alastair Macaulay, talks about how he mostly covered ballet and traditional modern dance. It sounds funny to say “traditional,” but Martha Graham’s company is turning 100 years old. And he was talking about how he would try to go see hip-hop battles, because he said you can find so much about an immediate culture from their folk dances, and it’s such an important part of the conversation that’s easy to overlook.Serge: Yes, it’s true. I remember when I was a young curator, I was focusing on a certain range of dance and I thought what happened before was not interesting. And there are these wars between classical, modern, avant-garde, et cetera. And I think it’s a shame. I realized that a bit later. If we talk about dance in the West—without classical dance, you would not have modern dance or neoclassical. And because of modern dance, we had the birth of postmodern dance, and because of postmodern dance, we talk now about contemporary dance. But all of this is linked. Some people say, “I like only this,” or “Only this has the right to exist.” But if you really are into an art discipline, you need to look at the history. I think it’s essential.That’s the reason why sometimes for the festival, I try to include a piece of reference before presenting a brand-new work. And if we take New York as an example, I’m very glad that with Ballet de Lyon we can present the same night Merce Cunningham and Christos Papadopoulos. Because it shows people how things evolve, but they have one thing in common: they invented a language.That’s what interests me the most. When I select an artist, I look at whether they found their own voice. And it’s because of this category of artists that the art form is continuously evolving. For me, the historical vision is essential if you want to approach contemporary art. If contemporary dance is here now, it’s because of what came before. —Serge LaurentLa Nuée New York Live Arts March 6 & 7 Photo: Luca IanelliCynthia: We get attached to small differences and make tiny art wars. It’s such a reflection on how we could improve our society—looking past these differences and seeing the links.Serge: Of course there are debates, but there’s a big difference between a curator and a critic. As a curator, I want to develop a vision, leaning on history and witnessing the evolution of dance. I want to show the diversity of dance and how rich it is. Even if artists are very different and come from different cultures, they have this in common: they research and try to find their own voice. And I thank them for giving us the opportunity to experience the art of movement.Cynthia: Looking ahead, what directions or questions are you most interested in pursuing through Dance Reflections?Serge: We decided to lean on three essential values: creation, transmission, and education. Creation is not only about a new work, but what is needed before the work—residencies, time, space. Transmission is essential to preserve works and heritage. And education is about awareness—not making everyone an expert, but giving tools to approach dance. This is what I want to develop, especially education and awareness.Cynthia: It gives people an access point—it pulls the curtain back without forcing anything.Serge: Exactly. My job is to be a mediator, a bridge between creation, artists, and the rest of the world.Listen to full conversation in the podcast above and The New York City iteration of Dance Reflections Festival takes place February 19 to March 21, 2026Seeing Dance LIVE TALK: The Sleeping Beauty Then & Now Tues Feb 24 7PM EST. Last month we took a look at Swan Lake from the classic Nureyev & Fonteyn version to Matthew Bourne’s male swans and psychological take. Christian Spuck’s Sleeping Beauty (courtesy of Marquee TV)This month, February 24 7PM EST, we’ll do a deep dive on the pivotal Sleeping Beauty. A ballet that was once considered a sellout to low popular taste, is now thought of as the crystalline example of the classical style. We’ll compare The Royal Ballet with Christian Spuck’s neoclassical version and finishing with another Matthew Bourne hit theatrical (and wildly different) production. UPDATE: Starting in March, we’ll still have a once monthly live for everyone but for a deeper look we’ll have weekly lives for paid subscribers. More on that soon. If you already know you’d like to join then go ahead and do so below. The Dance Lens with Cynthia Dragoni is a reader-supported publication. Join me for subscriber only monthly lives and paid subscriber weekly lives. Get full access to The Dance Lens with Cynthia Dragoni at thedancelens.substack.com/subscribe