A vision that is living, breathing, and breathtaking in its execution, while
critiquing contemporary social structures and gazing toward a horizontal future
Inspired by writer and activist Adrienne Maree Brown, Pepa Ubera’s “The Machine of Horizontal Dreams” blends choreography, sound, light, and video into an immersive, boundary-pushing experience.
Brown’s philosophy centers on the idea that change happens through small, simple, interconnected actions that build and replicate, and that the world we live in was once someone’s science fiction; to create a just and liberated future, we must first be able to imagine it in vivid, tangible detail. Most importantly, she proposes the interconnection of “we” – that our liberation is bound up with one another.
Pepa Ubera’s imagination of Brown’s concept, leading into The Machine of Horizontal Dreams, might be the most effective work I have seen at translating a philosophical concept into a tangible, felt experience. Upon entering, you immediately understand this will be a completely different experience; massive screens surround the performance space, with a sound design that constructs a realm of its own. The piece is not designed for the intellect, but for the body, the experience, the ineffable.
The design of the show features elements from the title: horizontal, dream-like, and (almost) post-human. The space itself is designed to be horizontal. With only a few chairs, most audience members sit on the floor, as do many of the performers. The gazes in the space are designed to be horizontal rather than hierarchical – the performers enter as the audience is still finding its seat, wearing normal clothes and blending into the crowd. They move into the central stage, looking at each other and the audience – just as the audience is looking at them. This act of seeing, and of acknowledging that seeing, creates a horizontal power dynamic between performer and audience.
The piece features a majority of “dream-like” expressions. It weaves dream-like movement sequences, performed by five main dancers and often echoed by a larger ensemble of performers with bodies of different identities and dance experiences, creating a sprawling circle of echoes. The dream-like sequences are constantly shifting and re-shaping, with occasions of individual performers sharing their own spoken word pieces – a “horizontal” structure allowing individual voices to speak out rather than being used as mere devices for a larger and higher story. Through movement and these individual dreams, the ensemble embodies another way of collective being. At times, several dancers physically embody the dreams of their fellow members, with these roles constantly shifting. In one passage, members of the ensemble sink to the floor, and others gently pick them up to continue their journey. This choreography echoes Brown’s powerful idea of collective living – embodied the interconnection of “we” through empathy, awareness, and mutual aid.
The only element that feels at odds with the show is the “machine.” While the show is designed to offer a “horizontal” experience, it is primarily framed by rules delivered in a machine voice. The magnitude of this voice in the space, combined with its cold tone as it dictates the rules, makes it feel like an authority figure – a stark contrast to the supposedly horizontal, living, organic, and ever-changing space it seeks to govern.
However, despite these contradictions, The Machine of Horizontal Dreams offers a uniquely powerful experience – a vision that is living, breathing, and breathtaking in its execution, while critiquing contemporary social structures and gazing toward a horizontal future.