In vivid new Night is the Mother, Dance//Novella explores enigmatic nature of dreams
Choreographers Racheal Prince and Brandon Lee Alley reflect on shifting realities, fear of losing loved ones, and intense imagery
Dance//Novella’s Night is the Mother. Photo by David Cooper
The Dance Centre presents Dance//Novella’s Night is the Mother on April 25 at 12 pm at the Scotiabank Dance Centre, as part of the Discover Dance! series
ACCORDING TO THE CANADIAN SLEEP SOCIETY, almost everybody dreams at some point over the course of a night’s rest—but the source of a dream, its vividness, its meaning, and whether or not a person even remembers it in the morning can all depend on a slew of mysterious factors.
When Dance//Novella cofounders and directors Racheal Prince and Brandon Lee Alley began conceptualizing their latest piece, Night is the Mother, dreaming was at the forefront of their creative process.
The work started out last summer as two solos, which the pair then developed into a group work in January during a month-long residency at The Polygon Gallery with dancers Bryn Bridgen, Kiera Hill, Yuha Tomita, Juan Duarte, Will Jessup, and Tara Williamson Campbell.
The collaborative setting allowed Prince and Alley to learn about each of the artists’ own experiences with dreaming. Alley recalls that one dancer would have vivid dreams about her family—sometimes they were heartwarming thoughts, and in other instances they were deeply unsettling night terrors. Another dancer who watched a lot of anime growing up would frequently dream of a beautifully animated scene where she was sitting above water, looking out over a city and eating a snack.
As Prince and Alley compiled the dancers’ wild reveries with their own experiences, an abstract final product began to take form. Their choreography captures dreaming as an incredibly enigmatic facet of life.
“I have a very interesting relationship with dreaming,” Alley tells Stir over a Zoom call with Prince. “Some nights I don’t even remember what I dream about. Sometimes I feel like I don’t dream. And then other nights it’s vivid—it can be really entertaining and wild, and as soon as I wake up I wanna jump back in and finish the story and be a part of this other world. But sometimes it’s absolutely terrifying, like witnessing loved ones pass. When I was younger, there’s a vivid memory of me at a funeral, and I wake up just bawling my eyes out—things like that. And that can be really emotionally powerful.”
Prince adds that her dreams often feel deceptively real, too. She notes that if a dream is particularly heavy or dredges up past events in her life, she’s saddened when she wakes up, and will have to process those thoughts throughout her day.
“I have lots of positive dreams too, but those ones don’t seem to have the same impact—I go around the day like, ‘That was such a great dream,’” she recalls. “It’s the negative ones that seem to have a grip on me, and follow me. So I think in our work, you’ll see that there’s a few beautiful moments, but there’s also these darker moments and this theme of not having the ability to do what you want. I think we all have that, too—it’s like you know in the dream what you want to do, but you can’t get that thing to happen. And the way we feel powerless—the work does touch upon that.”
Dance//Novella’s Brandon Lee Alley and Racheal Prince. Photo by Philip Jarmain
Night is the Mother transports viewers through two timelines. One is a dreamscape that shifts constantly through themes of peace and distress, while the other is a dystopian reality. The six dancers sit around a fire together, sharing food and ideas as they reflect on the subconscious visions that take over come nightfall.
Elements of physical theatre lend the dancers’ movement jarring effects at times, while moments of camaraderie—an arm around a shoulder, a comforting fireside exchange—allow them to survive amid alarming dreamscapes. Those themes of togetherness and family are prominent within the work.
“People have a big fear of losing loved ones, losing relationships, and we saw that echoed throughout the process,” Prince says. “It’s funny because when people recall dreams, I think the negative ones seem to be powerful and come out first, and then once they get that off their chest, then come the more positive relationships. But it’s interesting that as humans, this dark side of dreams does seem to be very prominent for everyone.”
The storyline is carried along with the help of monologues narrated by Prince, which are a mixture of texts written by both the choreographers and performers. Captions are used to ensure accessibility for audiences who are Deaf or hard of hearing.
Incorporating voices from within a work is a creative choice that is becoming a signature for Dance//Novella, which Prince and Alley founded in 2019 after years of experience performing with the likes of Ballet BC and Kidd Pivot. Last year they premiered When the Walls Come Down, an expressive story of a Deaf woman’s experiences growing up, which incorporated ASL and multimedia storytelling. Likewise, their nine-dancer piece STANCE (which was created during a previous residency at The Polygon Gallery) explores social unrest and protests through movement, music, and video elements.
Sound design by Alley is also a key component of Night is the Mother. It varies greatly throughout, echoing moments of tranquility and frenzy. Real-world sound effects like crackling fire, chirping crickets, and whistling wind take over at times; elsewhere, bass-heavy electronic music evokes what Alley describes as a “visceral, intense kind of feeling”. There are also more soothing moments of ambient music with orchestral influences, and at one point, Virginia Liston’s bluesy piano- and trumpet-backed 1920s track “Evil Minded Blues” rings out, her voice swooping and expressive.
Two sold-out performances of Night is the Mother just took place at The Polygon Gallery on April 18, and The Dance Centre will present the piece on April 25 at noon as part of its Discover Dance! series. As the work reaches audiences, Prince reflects on how its title alludes to the presence of a mother-like central figure, who then interacts with a daughter-like character; together, they rely on dreams to escape from some of the jarring realities they’re presented with. All of this stems back to a phrase Prince and Alley came across in their research, before they had even started choreographing the work.
“The full quote is ‘Night is the mother of counsels,’” Alley says. “It really just captures how we feel about dreaming, this sort of crazy nocturnal experience that we have every night or every other night—and how we can bring up questions, and even sometimes answers, to things that we’re searching for.” 
Related Articles
