This provocative evening of dance performed by Volta in the Jeffrey Deitch gallery on Tuesday, June 24, 2025 quickly captured the attention of the audience. The title of the evening, “Mamie Green’s Loneliness Triptych; A lineage of Abstract Arts in LA” is a basic description of the evening. The performance takes place in the gallery, an open space with visual and sculptural art curated by Alia Dahl. Three dance vignettes were performed that seemed to be both literal and abstract. Live music and spoken word accompanied most of the performance.

Arriving early, gave the audience the opportunity to wander through the gallery and view The Abstract Future, curated by Alia Dahl. I found myself feeling alone even though there was a large group of people wandering around like me. There was a huge sculpture that was created with crutches. It immediately grabbed my attention and elicited so many personal memories wrapped around dance injuries. There is nothing lonelier than being an injured dancer stuck at home unable to perform or participate even in class.

Volta - Ryler Polak, Ryan Ruiz - Photo by Kacie Tomita.

Volta – Ryler Polak, Ryan Ruiz – Photo by Kacie Tomita.

The first vignette was described in the Volta performance website notes as “The Doppelganger: A solitary woman escapes into cinematic fantasies while dancers embody her inner turmoil.”  It began with a woman being rolled in a carpet and graduated to the use of a rolling chair. The music was haunting, and the saxophone solo was amazing. This vignette appeared to be a study in balance, interdependence and weight. The dancers demonstrated an incredible ability to defy gravity through counterbalance, weight transfer, and shared weight. It was beautiful to see this partnership evolve between the dancers as they supported one another with each dancer’s weight counteracting to create a symbol of stability and strength. The added element of the chair smoothly integrated into the movement elicited a gasp from me. The movement throughout the vignette had a languid yet sinewy, and improvisational feel to it but the complicated tableaus that were being created were too difficult to be improvisation. Unity and connection were, in my opinion, the message and these artists effortlessly pulled the audience into their story. When the mahogany goddess stepped forward and began to speak, her words resonated with me. Several phrases created images and feelings that were both literal and abstract to me. “…popcorn bursting inside its glass cage…”,  “…eyes so bright I do my lipstick in them…” and then “Humphrey Bogart puffing on a cigarette…” which was captured in movement with a gesture.  I didn’t want this vignette to end.

The audience was quickly guided to another section of the museum where two women were struggling with an inflatable mattress. The music had a plaintive quality to it and the sax seemed to almost wail. Sometimes the volume made it impossible to hear words being spoken. The addition of “Just Like We Never Said Goodbye” a recording by Sophie was jarring and felt out of place. The dancers twisted and reached in and around the mattress as they seemed to pull and push continually. The air gradually escaped the mattress and one of the dancers was being rolled in it, reminiscent of the first vignette with the dancer rolled in the carpet.

Volta - Ryley Polak (lifted), Ryan Ruiz - Photo by Kacie Tomita.

Volta – Ryley Polak (lifted), Ryan Ruiz – Photo by Kacie Tomita.

The last vignette was exactly as described on the website, “The Kid:  Two dancers transform a rolling office chair into a playground of nostalgia and imagination.” The music for this vignette was more like ambient sound that increased in volume and became fuller as the dance progressed. The two men were totally different body types and managed to balance, twirl, spin, on the rolling chair with ease. One dancer was stocky and built like a body builder and the other was much smaller and lithe. I was astounded by their ability to stand and slowly spin in the chair.  As if that wasn’t difficult enough, the man standing on his head while the chair turned was even more surprising. Although reminiscent of the first vignette with weight dependency and counterbalance by the dancers, this had the added element of the rolling office chair from beginning to end accompanied by a mood of levity. When the two performed short movement phrases with jumps, slaps, and claps it was sheer magic. They were infused with a childlike joy and happiness that made me smile. They moved as if they were one, in complete unison.  I wish there had been more pure dance interludes. These men were beautiful dancers who moved with strength, nuance, and musicality that was captivating.

Volta - Cacia LaCount - Photo by Kacie Tomita.

Volta – Cacia LaCount – Photo by Kacie Tomita.

Each performer, Bella Allen, Cacia LaCount, Anne Kim, Ryan Ruiz, and Ryley Polak brought a refreshing individuality to the performance. Director/choreographer, Mamie Green, writers Stephanie Wambugu, Lily Lady, and Sammy Loren created a unique presentation fusing dance theater, music, and spoken word. I would be remiss not to mention the work of Patrick Shiroishi, the Japanese American multi-instrumentalist and composer who created the music that was an integral part of the evening. His music seemed to compliment each vignette perfectly. The insertion of the pop song was an intrusion that was not needed. His sax solos were like comfortable, warm, lush blankets that wrapped around the dancers and completed the performances. In the website notes the vignettes are collectively described as follows, “These vignettes play between the literal and the abstract, enabling audiences to find themselves between meaning and abstraction….” As an audience member I found pieces of myself and my experiences in each vignette as my mind continually traveled between meaning and abstraction.

To learn more about Volta, please visit their website.

For more information about the Jeffrey Deitch, please visit their website.


Written by Leah Bass-Baylis for LA Dance Chronicle.

Featured image: Volta Collective – L-R Raven Scott, Anne Kim, Bella Allen – Photo by Kacie Tomita