It’s uncommon {that a} efficiency and a venue align so seamlessly. I not often even take into account how the 2 intersect, since they normally emerge from separate worlds—the universe of a present contained inside a given area. However the North American premiere of Monkey Off My Again or The Cat’s Meow, regardless of being created and first staged in Zürich, Switzerland, in 2021, appears as if it have been made for the Park Avenue Armory’s 55,000-square-foot Wade Thompson Drill Corridor in 2025.
The dance-theater-fashion present, directed and choreographed by U.S.-born and Zurich-based Trajal Harrell, unfolds on a brilliant 150-foot runway designed by Harrell and Erik Flatmo within the fashion of a Mondrian grid portray. The viewers sits on both facet of the runway like A-list celebrities, however with outsized packages in stadium-style seating that’s extra akin to theater. The Armory, lengthy recognized for its huge unconventional productions, has additionally hosted style reveals. Fittingly, the constructing sits almost halfway between the birthplaces of two motion types central to Harrell’s choreography—Harlem’s ballroom voguing and Judson Dance Theater’s postmodern dance, each from the Nineteen Sixties. And despite the fact that the piece was made through the COVID pandemic and may be learn as a meditation on the human want for communal gathering, its themes communicate uncannily to the current: What’s freedom? Who will get to specific themselves freely? What does it imply to look a stranger within the eye?
Monkey Off My Again or The Cat’s Meow begins with Harrell rising from a seat within the viewers and introducing himself as Chloé Malle (Anna Wintour’s successor at Vogue). Harrell/Malle welcomes the gang and recounts her cellphone dialog with Harrell, who requested her to open the present, sharing the quote “For those who stay, generally it’s a must to dance.” On this method, we’re instantly dropped into the present’s tone—performative, sly and intentionally breaking the fourth wall.
Two folks then peel again the massive plastic sheet masking the set, so fastidiously that the viewers at opening night time even applauded their effort. On the Mondrian-like flooring are low white nightclub-style couches and a central desk beneath which an assortment of toys and family objects—props, maybe—sit poorly hid.


Out of the blue, music explodes into the huge area. Somebody steps onto the purple, white, blue and yellow stage, and the present begins once more. Performers enter one after the other, striding counterclockwise alongside the perimeter to Samm Bennett & Chunk’s “A part of the Household,” which dissolves into Nina Simone’s “Feeling Good.” The so-called style present is straight away off-kilter: “fashions” put on bathrobes over robes, rollers of their hair, empty sleeves trailing behind them. Quickly it veers stranger—performers stumble and dishevel themselves. Throughout the night, 60 costumes designed by Harrell seem, mixing labels from Comme des Garçons to Walmart. Some performers put on sneakers, some go barefoot, however each catwalk dazzles.
The solid is massive—17 dancers plus Harrell, all a part of his Zürich Dance Ensemble—and so they reappear in daring seems to be till one lastly steps off the grid, a rupture that feels each mistaken and exhilarating. One other hikes a skirt above the knees and kicks wildly. A sneakered group varieties at one finish, shifting arms fluidly as if warming up, or channeling birds, or conducting an unseen orchestra. A performer picks up a mic from the sofa and declares, “Part 2, The Story,” hinting at narrative (spoiler: it by no means totally arrives, maybe deliberately).
A lot transpires in Monkey Off My Again or The Cat’s Meow. The 5 sections stretch almost two hours with out intermission. The perimeter-walking continues with such persistence that it turns into a heartbeat, solely noticeable when it halts. At one level, a lady is carried to a sofa and begins studying the Declaration of Independence aloud—radical in its supply. At one other, a person atop a sofa performs a Butoh-inspired solo, his physique twisting in gradual contortions. Later, Harrell dances alone to Imani Uzuri’s “Love Story,” shifting like somebody tipsy and unguarded at dwelling with a glass of wine. Costumes change relentlessly, poses strike with power and the soundtrack ranges wildly—from Earth, Wind & Fireplace to Laura Nyro to Steve Reich. Two performers roam in sparkly panda fits.


There may be an excessive amount of to absorb; you might be all the time lacking one thing. Afterward, strolling downtown, I saved replaying how the acts of watching and being watched felt unusually new. Maybe it was as a result of the home lights stayed up till the ultimate abstracted people dance, letting performers gaze straight on the viewers. Maybe it was Harrell’s course that uncovered the human beneath the efficiency. Would I ever watch a passerby on the road with the identical depth as a dancer on stage? Not normally. At occasions, I even appeared away when a performer neared. However why?
I additionally considered freedom. The liberty of expression right here—in style, in motion—was placing. The performers inhabited the atmospheres of the New York ballroom scene, membership tradition, lonely residences, even the subway at 4:00 a.m., every in their very own register.
In this system, Debra Levine writes that Harrell wished to create a piece and not using a preconceived theme. That alternative explains the stream-of-consciousness really feel and the shortage of narrative arc, and I’m grateful for it. It allowed me to acknowledge my very own want for story, for the hidden props for use, for a message to land. However that’s not how life works. Life is messy, and artwork can remind us to not look away.
Monkey Off My Again or The Cat’s Meow is displaying on the Park Avenue Armory’s Wade Thompson Drill Corridor by September 20, 2025.
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