I keep coming back to Dawned because it was the first work I made that I was so unsure about after its premiere. Which is funny, because I had been thinking about it for more than ten years.
I first began ruminating on the ideas that would eventually become Dawned when I was introduced to the photography of Gregory Crewdson in a workshop. I couldn’t tell you what the prompt was all those years ago, but I remember the images.
His use of lighting and flair for the eerie and dramatic left me feeling like each of his subjects was holding onto a profound sense of sadness or aloneness.
I couldn’t shake them.
For years, I kept coming back to those images and wondering:
What would happen if we put these characters in a room together? Could they find community—and light—in their connection?
And then I waited.
Some ideas need time.
For years, it never felt like the right moment to make Dawned. It was one of those BIG projects. I knew I wanted to take the time to make it properly, and that required money, the right collaborators and, most importantly, a group of artists willing to try it out with me.
Eventually, those pieces came together.
Composer Eric Dietz was one of the first people I approached. I knew Eric had an incredible ability to build narrative through music. He understands the journey of a work and it shows. I needed that.
Before Dawned, much of my choreography felt abstract and form-driven. This was my first attempt at building narrative in such an “in your face” kind of way. Eric created a score that could carry us through a vivid emotional journey while we began figuring out who these people were and how their stories fit together.
And slowly, Dawned came alive.
But then we premiered it.
And I wasn't sure.
After thinking about something for ten years, I think there was a part of me that expected the premiere to answer the question. Instead, it gave me more questions. So we kept digging.
In 2022, the question was:
How do we find community?
By 2025, it became:
How do we strengthen the narrative?
And now, in 2026:
How much deeper can we dig into these characters? Where are the gaps in the story that the audience is missing?
The original question wasn't necessarily wrong. It was just too big.
There is no single way to find community. Trying to answer that question for everyone would eliminate all the complexity that makes the idea interesting in the first place.
So instead, we've gone smaller. We've focused on specific characters. Specific relationships. Specific journeys.
Every time we revisit the work, we get another opportunity to connect to those journeys by asking what we now understand about our own.
Sometimes a dance tells you what it's missing.
One of the biggest changes to Dawned came through conversations with my partner and RMD collaborator, Sabatino.
Originally, the role now performed by Sarah Housepian didn't exist.
Sab and I began talking about whether the work needed someone who could physically embody ideas of purity and transformation. When we approached Sarah about the role, we knew her limited availability meant we had to be incredibly specific about how we used her.
That limitation actually gave us the answer.
Video.
Her presence could weave in and out of the world without requiring her to physically inhabit every moment of it. She became this almost muse-like character, appearing throughout the work and adding a sense of mystery that helped shape the narrative we see today.
It's a reminder that sometimes adding more doesn't mean making something more complicated.
Which may be the biggest lesson Dawned has taught me:
Simplicity can sometimes be the strongest choice.
Right now, we're back in the studio finessing the emotional arc of the work. Music and lighting can only do so much. We're going back into the actual steps and asking:
What should this action FEEL like?
Not what does it mean? Not how do we make sure the audience understands every detail? What does it feel like?
My understanding of hope has changed since 2022. I think we're far from the simplicity that Dawned's original narrative offers. But I've also realized that doesn't mean we can't offer an audience something that feels easy and beautiful to engage with.
Maybe it doesn't have to answer everything. Maybe it can simply give us a place to sit together for a while.
And now, we're finally giving it space.
Dawned has always been a work that requires space.
Space to grow and change, yes.
But also space to MOVE.
This October, I think we're going to see the biggest and fullest version of Dawned we could possibly make.
That's why we programmed it. We wanted it to feel like it could finally live. Finally come alive.
And after more than a decade of carrying these images around with me, I'm realizing I don't need Dawned to become some giant tour de force.
I may feel more like a meditation.
When the final moment happens and the audience sits in that world we've created together, I hope they feel something very simple:
Relief.
Calmness.
Maybe even a little light.
See you in the studio,
Robert