HQ Review: RESILIENCE Dance Company presents its spring performance “Instead of waiting, they weave”
I recently had the pleasure of attending Resilience Dance Company’s spring performance Instead of waiting, they weave at Intersect Arts Center in South City. This was my third show in as many weeks, and one would be forgiven to assume that perhaps I may be craving a dance-free weekend. However, I’ve been riding high on a sense that the St. Louis dance scene is at the precipice of something revolutionary. Organizations like Saint Louis Dance Theatre are reinventing themselves through rebrands. MADCO, the region’s oldest modern dance company, is gearing up to celebrate their 50th season under the dynamic new(ish) artistic direction of Arianna Russ, but perhaps most importantly, we are seeing a new generation of dance leaders take root in our community.
Amongst those are the aforementioned Arianna Russ of MADCO, Jacob Henss, Co-Director of Space Station Dance, Carly Vanderheyden, the Editor-in-Chief of this publication, and importantly for our purposes here today, Will Brighton and Emily Haussler, who debuted two new works for Resilience Dance Company’s Spring Concert. Suffice it to say, I jumped at the chance to soak in whatever choreographic experiences these two planned to offer up to audiences in service of St. Louis’ simmering dance scene.
I expected the night to begin with opening remarks from Artistic and Executive Director Emily Haussler. If you’ve been to a Resilience performance, you know that their commitment to their people is at least as important to the ethos of the company as their commitment to presenting interesting art, and Emily wisely takes time before each show to ensure the audience knows about their mission. I recommend taking time to read their mission statement on their website, as it encompasses an impressive and lofty set of goals that I think more companies could aspire to. Tonight’s show, however, was different. After purchasing a reasonably priced beer to help support the company, I was handed a scroll that contained a summarized version of the Greek myth of Persephone and her involvement in the creation of Winter. Upon entering the performance space, I was greeted by dancers already on the stage, prancing and chuffing like… horses? Oh my, what had I gotten myself into?
As it turns out, Will Brighton’s new work, “Horse Girl,” was one of the most refreshing pieces of choreography I’ve seen in a proscenium-esque environment since my college years. Created in just a week, “Horse Girl” presented a nuanced exploration of all things equine. The piece was framed at its outset by a tragic audio clip, describing the moment a stampede led to the loss of one rider’s horse due to a broken leg. While the pre-show antics were decidedly whimsical, this clip introduced a much more somber element to the work. The piece that followed was certainly amusing—this is an inherent outcome of asking humans to act like animals—but there was a hint of darker themes lurking in every section. Feats of dance athleticism were punctuated by scenes of dancers thrashing, often convulsing so violently that their collisions with the floor caused me to cringe.
Emily Small, Chrissy Clair, and Ashlynn Woelbling stood out in a trio section that was drenched in gestural nuances. These dancers executed this crescendo of movement with rhythmic and kinesthetic precision, showcasing Brighton’s ability to skirt the edge of chaos then retreat into a tighter mode of movement. Without knowing exactly why, the movement felt decidedly gen-z-ish. The section seemed to reference TikTok dances without ever becoming one itself. It was smart and concise, and the moment solidified this work as something squarely within the zeitgeist of contemporary dance.
As I watched, I became fascinated with the work’s title, “Horse Girl.” The Horse Girl is a specific archetype in contemporary culture. Part meme, the typical Horse Girl represents an individual, almost always female identifying, whose love of horses borders on obsession. Unfortunately for The Horse Girl, her mainstream peers find her interest in horses to be an easy subject of ridicule. That love combined with her homely dress, homeschooled aesthetic, and general naiveté, firmly cast The Horse Girl on the “weirdo” end of the high-school social ladder.
What was Brighton trying to evoke by using such a well-defined archetype as his title? At times, I’d catch whiffs of insecurity or anxiety in the choreography. Was there a broader comment about bullying and ridiculously real ramifications of childhood popularity contests? Horses, after all, come in all shapes and sizes. Prized for their brawn or their beauty, but rarely for much else. The traits we value most in horses are the traits we assign to two other high school archetypes, The Jock and The Popular Girl. What omnipotent being assigned social status to teens dependent on their after-school interests? What does it do to us when, in the name of compassion, we are forced to euthanize otherwise intelligent and equine citizens? What does it do to the horses? I’m not sure Brighton’s piece provided me with any answers, but the questions were unreasonably satisfying to ponder.
As the lights dimmed and "Horse Girl" trotted offstage, the evening transitioned. Haussler gave her aforementioned speech about Resilience’s mission and values, then explained that the mysterious scroll I’d received upon entering contained the narrative inspiration for her piece “Instead of waiting, they weave.”
Written on the scroll was the Greek myth of Persephone and Demeter. Essentially, this myth functions as the Greek’s explanation for the Summer and Winter seasons. Here is the TLDR version:
Persephone, daughter of Demeter, gets snatched by Hades and dragged to the underworld. Demeter, goddess of the harvest, grieves her disappearance and the Earth withers. Eventually, a deal's struck: Persephone splits her time—half in the underworld, half above. That’s how we got the seasons—summer when she’s home, winter when she’s gone.
Instead of waiting, they weave marked a bold experiment for Resilience Dance Company—an ensemble typically known for more abstract work. It was clear from the start that this evening length piece would follow a more linear, literal tradition that felt at times more like a classical story ballet or ancient Greek theater.
The contemporary movement style however, was familiar to the Resilience audience and was executed by the company with expertise. The dancers had a symbiotic relationship with gravity. It was a force that powered their movement even as it offered its own invisible resistance. It played the part of a reliable partner. You could see the company drawing energy from it, helping them build momentum naturally from their bodies' own weight. In the space, the dancers drew sweeping arcs and hypnotizing spirals that were as mesmerizing as they were effortless. Watching them felt less like observing choreographed steps and more like witnessing natural phenomena: the ebb of tides, wind rustling leaves, a slow yet inevitable pull toward emotional clarity. The dancers excelled in this technique, creating both visual poetry and powerful storytelling.
The dancers were supported by live music. Rather than relying on recorded tracks, Haussler incorporated music from composer and producer e-GoS (Gabriel Vianello), directly into the performance space, deepening the immediacy and intimacy of the narrative. The electric guitar licks were somehow both mellow and ripping, lending an almost psychedelic effect to the work and enriching the storytelling by weaving together ancient tradition and contemporary innovation.
The set, however, was intentionally minimal—perhaps a deliberate choice to keep the focus squarely on the performers. I’d be excited to see a future iteration of this piece with a few more visual elements. I found the work’s narrative to be easy to follow, but those who missed the chance to unravel their scrolls might have benefited from symbolic or scenic context, providing deeper layers of narrative richness and reinforcing the ancient tale being reimagined.
Still, Haussler's risk in steering Resilience toward a more literal, narrative-driven approach should be warmly applauded. Change is never simple; for an established group known for abstract work, venturing into explicit storytelling requires courage. This willingness to innovate positions Resilience as a dynamic, adaptable leader in the St. Louis dance scene. I find myself genuinely excited by this piece’s potential evolution. How might deeper explorations into Persephone's myth further shape the company's identity? Conversely, how might Resilience’s unique mission and future artistic development alter the classical narrative itself?
In stepping outside their comfort zone, Haussler and the company showcase precisely why Resilience remains such a vital part of our local dance ecosystem. Instead of waiting, they weave not only demonstrates their adaptability but symbolizes their active role in reshaping St. Louis's artistic landscape. Indeed, tonight’s performance reaffirms the sense that the local dance scene isn't merely changing—it's blossoming, ready to flourish anew with each innovative step forward.