[Note that all the photos below were taken at a 2021 performance of The Sacrifice in Johannesburg, and there are certain non-substantial changes (positioning; costumes) between what is shown compared to what was presented at the Joyce.]
Dada Masilo
The Joyce Theater
New York, New York
May 23, 2023
The Sacrifice
Jerry Hochman
Dada Masilo and her company returned to the Joyce Theater this week to present Masilo’s latest international triumph, The Sacrifice. Based on what I’d heard of it (admittedly little) and what I recalled from her revisionist Giselle (which I included in my list of Tops in New York for 2018), I looked forward to a new take on Stravinsky’s score and “the sacrifice” depicted in dances choreographed to it.
Dada Masilo and Ann Masina (standing)
in “The Sacrifice”
Photo by John Hogg
What I took from the opening night performance was indeed “different,” but nothing like what I’d anticipated. Although the quality of the presentation is off the charts, effectively the piece appeared to me to be two dances in one: the first, an introduction to a particular style of African dance; the second, a sacrifice, but one consistent with a different cultural sensibility that bore little obvious resemblance to dances I’ve seen based on the Stravinsky score.
Nevertheless, as I’ll discuss below, ultimately The Sacrifice is less revolutionary than it is different, with many facets that echo certain aspects of the Stravinsky-based dances. That being said, in some ways it’s superior to its Stravinsky-based predecessors: not just a consequence of the extraordinary second part of the dance that elicits an emotional response far different from what one might feel following a “standard” Stravinsky-based production, but, on further consideration, with respect to all of it. Simply put, The Sacrifice is magnificent.
Much of the initial difficulty I had with The Sacrifice was the product of information, or the absence of it, in the accompanying program notes. There Masilo notifies the audience that her piece uses idiosyncratic Tswana dance as its chosen dance form (noting that the dance is native to Botswana, and is her own cultural heritage). She also writes that the piece explores Tswana rituals insofar as they relate to the “sacrifice” theme. I have no quarrel with any of that, although a consequence is that the music is original to this piece, and, although both interesting and very well-conceived, not iconic in the sense that the Stravinsky composition is.
Dada Masilo (center) and Company dancers in “The Sacrifice”
Photo by John Hogg
Further in the program note, Masilo asserts that having learned parts of Pina Bausch’s The Rite of Spring as a dance student in Brussels, she was determined to create a dance that described what “sacrifice meant to the Tswana people then, and what it means now.” She adds: “I wanted to create a story that is deeper than a chosen maiden dancing herself to death.” These statements create unnecessary problems (e.g. – is she saying that Tswana people have human sacrifice now?) that can best be overcome by ignoring them – except with respect to creating a story deeper than the standard, which she successfully achieves.
The piece is bookended, sort of, by an opening Prologue (which can’t be seen as a Prologue until the dance ends), in which Masilo slowly traverses the stage as if in some sort of fugue state, examining her bare-chested body and the surrounding air, slowly twitching to the somber live musical accompaniment, trailed by Ann Masina, one of the piece’s musicians, singing a sort of low-key chant.
Dada Masilo (center) and Company dancers in “The Sacrifice”
Photo by John Hogg
After both exit the stage, what I’ve described as the first part of The Sacrifice begins. [There’s no intermission; each part segues into the next.] What I saw was a pleasant-enough display of what I presumed was Tswana dance. But the dances themselves showed nothing remotely relating to anything in particular beyond a celebration of something – and this something is joyous, not in any way ominous, and appearing not in the least primitive or ritualistic. At the least, I would have appreciated seeing something in the program that described what the dances were about, or what the movement was supposed to represent, or anything at all to help interpret what was being presented beyond whatever the individual viewer could see.
All this isn’t to say that the dancing was deficient. I don’t claim familiarity with Tswana dance, and consequently wouldn’t know one way or the other, but based on what I saw they were jubilant expressions of Tswana culture accurately presented. The characters, including specifically Masilo (who, front and center through nearly all of the piece, appeared to lead the dances), danced vibrantly, with Masilo every so often giving what appeared to be guttural commands to the musicians and the rest of the cast to segue into the next component dance. While it was entertaining, I felt lost in a travelogue (admittedly high quality) of authentic Tswana dances displayed for visiting tourists.
Dada Masilo (center) and Company dancers in “The Sacrifice”
Photo by John Hogg
But I realized afterward that perhaps I didn’t give Masilo enough credit. I still would have preferred some sort of indication of what was presented beyond the limits of what could be seen on stage, and /or something indicating its significance. But I did some limited research into performances of The Rite of Spring based on the Stravinsky score, and found that what I, as a viewer, had always considered part and parcel of the sacrifice instead was originally intended to be a display of primitive dance; an indirect predicate to the selection and sacrifice to come in the second part. Because of its familiarity, I’d always considered the two parts as a unity, linking one to the other without thinking – and because, given the music and the primitive style, the “first part” dances were so portentous of the terror to come.
So in terms of evaluating the piece as a whole, I must consider that maybe, in Tswana culture, a sacrifice was preceded by joyous-appearing dances, perhaps one in which the “chosen” sacrifice is the one who distinguishes herself in the initial dances, as Masilo does here. So illuminated, Masilo here sets up the same type of relationship between parts 1 and 2 as “standard” Stravinsky-based dances do, except one that looks different based on the different cultural background (including music) involved.
Company dancers in Dada Masilo’s “The Sacrifice”
Photo by John Hogg
Regardless of the intellectual analysis applied (or not) with respect to the first parts of the piece, the second part dealing with the sacrifice itself, and what I saw as the dance’s Epilogue, are masterfully communicated – as is the difference between this African-based Tswana culture and what’s described in Stravinsky-based dances as primitive European culture.
After what I saw as the Tswana dance exhibition stopped, Masilo is approached by the other dancers (to my recollection, both male and female – but I may have some sequences and the dancers in them jumbled), led by one of them carrying what appeared to be an unusually large-stemmed calla lily. [It may have been something else – perhaps some sort of sword or machete with a flower-like object attached, or, based on the attached photos, a ladle. The program note is silent.] This clearly indicated that Masilo had been “chosen.” She froze, and refused to accept the “honor” of giving up her life for whatever purpose the sacrifice is intended to serve.
Dada Masilo (center) and Company dancers in “The Sacrifice”
Photo by John Hogg
Shocked, Masilo exits the stage, but soon returns, now once again bare-chested, accompanied by male dancers, also bare chested (as they were throughout the first part of the piece). She wears a white costume that looks identical to the billowy white pants worn by the men, which were far different from the costumes they wore during the first part of the piece. What happens then is “ritual sacrifice.” We don’t know exactly how the sacrifice is carried out, but it’s brutal, as Masilo is transferred from one stoic-looking shaman (or designated executioner) to another, resisting all the while, until by whatever means (some relaxant that renders her compliant? some poison? some unseen weapon?) her resistance ends. To say this climactic scene is an intense emotional epic would itself be an understatement of epic proportions. There are no words sufficient to convey the totality of the experience that Masilo and those male dancers involved communicated.
Company dancer (standing) and Dada Masilo
in “The Sacrifice”
Photo by John Hogg
The difference between the sacrifice that Masilo demonstrates here vs. the sacrifice depicted in Stravinsky-based dances is the ritual process, which does not include the victim’s being compelled to dance to her death (although I think the Stravinsky-based dances include “ritual” also, just expressed differently). But the similarities between the two are striking as well: the fact that men carry out the sacrifice (whether this is ipso facto misogynistic and/or an expression of power is a discussion way beyond the boundaries of this review), and that it’s considered to be for the benefit of the community as a whole (to pacify the gods; to make crops grow).
After this, the dance’s climax, one might have expected the dance to end – as the Stravinsky-based dances do after the “chosen” sacrifice is forced to dance to her death (why the sacrificial victim is female may be a consequence of the theatrical nature of the presentation, but that, too, is a thesis for another day). On the contrary, at this point the “real” significance of The Sacrifice is just beginning.
Dada Masilo, Ann Masina and Company dancers
in “The Sacrifice”
Photo by John Hogg
As the men carrying out the ritual sacrifice leave, the singer who appeared in the Prologue, Masina, reappears, singing what must have been some prayer (whether part of the ritual or a post-ritual add-on) – a beautiful, operatic solo of unthrottled emotion (and for which the amplification device she wore was unnecessary) – while caressing Masilo’s near lifeless body. Then the rest of the villagers (who had danced in the first part of the piece) return, all the women (and men) bare-chested, ceremonially approaching where her body was placed to rest, in what clearly was a procession of honor. Masilo dies in Masina’s arms, after which Masina continues her anguished song.
Dada Masilo and Ann Masina in “The Sacrifice”
Photo by John Hogg
This display shows a reverence for the “chosen” victim completely absent from those Stravinsky-based dances I’ve seen, which simply leave the sacrificial victim’s body to be discarded, perhaps to be discovered by forensic anthropologists a millennium or two later. Is the Tswana culture displayed also primitive, the relative temporal equal of the Stravinsky-based dances? I don’t know. But one way or the other, it’s a sacrifice with a difference: a sacrifice with honor. It doesn’t help the chosen sacrificial victim, but that’s how Tswana society treats and remembers it.
Dada Masilo and Ann Masina in “The Sacrifice”
Photo by John Hogg
Before completing the discussion, I must recognize the dancers and musicians, each of whom contributed their commitment and unique stage presence to the piece. Although at all times Masilo was the dance’s focus, the four women (in addition to Masilo) and six men delivered performances of unusual depth. The extraordinary dancers, a physically eclectic but highly talented group of native African dancers, included (in addition to Masilo): Lehlohonolo Madise, Refiloe Mogoje, Thandiwe Mqokeli, and Eutychia Rakaki – the women; and the men: Leorate Dibatana, Lwando Dutyulwa, Thuso Lobeko, Songezo Mcilizeli, Steven Mokone, and Tshepo Zasekhaya.
Dada Masilo and Ann Masina in “The Sacrifice”
Photo by John Hogg
With respect to the score, there’s nothing remotely primitive-sounding about it, so in that sense the score isn’t nearly as revolutionary-sounding as Stravinsky’s. But it’s a beautiful assortment of music that enriches the action on stage. I don’t think that the instruments used are central to Tswana culture, whether primitive or current (the instruments aren’t identified; I saw a violin or something that appeared comparable to it, and what appeared to be a synthesizer, but I also saw an unusual, mesmerizing snake-like contraption that, when swirled at various speeds, mimics the sound of wind. The musicians (in addition to Masina) were Leroy Maphalo, Mpho Mothiba, and Nathi Shongwe. Together with Masina, they also are credited with composing the score.
Dada Masilo and Ann Masina in “The Sacrifice”
Photo by John Hogg
As I conclude writing this review, I’m reminded everywhere I look that this is Memorial Day weekend. [It’s also Fleet Week in New York, in which naval vessels parade up the Hudson, and after docking at Hudson piers, the sailors become welcome tourists.] I don’t know whether the powers that be at the Joyce considered Memorial Day in its scheduling, but its relevancy to The Sacrifice can’t be ignored. The sacrifice depicted there, and the honor that went with it, mirrors the sacrifices that are remembered on Memorial Day here (and in other countries that have similar memorials) – including the fact that most were drafted – chosen – and died because they were ordered by their superiors to do something that they must have known could lead to their deaths. The parallel isn’t exact, but it’s close. When remembering those who gave their lives, we remember their “sacrifice.” Even though it’s not military-based, in their grieving over the sacrifice for the good of their people, the Tswana were doing the same thing.
If Dada Masilo’s The Sacrifice returns to this area, it’s worth the trip to see. And having re-envisioned The Rite of Spring and Giselle (and perhaps Swan Lake also, which she’s also reimagined, but which I’ve not seen), I look forward to the cross-cultural challenge that Masilo will attempt next.
