Lights on, silence, one of the dancers starts to sing while the others join her, matching her rhythm with their claps. Their presence fills the room as they hold hands together, inviting the audience to join their celebration of what it is like to be human. This was the beginning of waheedworks’s beautiful performance of “Bodies as Site of Faith and Protest,” encompassing the experience of being Black in the United States through dance, presented by Visions and Voices in Bovard Auditorium Wednesday night.

waheedworks is a Philadelphia-based dance company created by Tommie-Waheed Evans in 2006. Evans, the creator and director of the piece, integrated parts of his upbringing, putting them together to build a representation of who he is. 

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From Aretha Franklin’s “Wholy Holy” to other gospel songs playing during the sets, his work is clearly influenced by the church, but he puts his own voice into every single one of the dances, unearthing his own identity as a choreographer. The piece is about his upbringing and how it has impacted the art that he produces now.

“Those [influences] from my past just became [my] present and my future,” Evans said. 

One of the main subjects of “Bodies as Site of Faith and Protest” is the Civil Rights Movement, and the choreography represents the violence that Black Americans endured during segregation; but the piece is not just about struggle, as it is also about strength and hope. 

“Being Black is just an experience in itself,” said dancer Roderick Phifer.

Each dancer had a different interpretation of the dance because of their identities or past experiences but, collectively, they all knew they needed to obtain that feeling of hope back. When the dancers acted like they were being punched, their facial expressions brought a visceral feeling to the performance, as that feeling of hope was starting to get lost. 

“I honestly think that through this work, I’ve found so much more comfortability in that and also being able to express that through this movement has been such a beautiful process,” Phifer said. 

Sometimes, words cannot express how people feel, so body movements are an avenue for artists to express themselves in ways that cannot be spoken. All five of the dances explore the idea that the human body has its own language, and that language can create bonds but can also protest for what is right.

“Even the basic movements of holding our hands [or] ‘Hand’s up, don’t shoot’ speak without us having to physically say anything,” said Breyanna Maples, a waheedworks dancer. “I think in this piece, it really shows the fight[s], the battle[s], the sacrifices that have happened, and the people that have literally laid out their lives.”

The performance goes above and beyond in paying homage to those who have given their lives for the Civil Rights cause. However, the piece is not only about the ’60s, as the past is currently a mirror of what is happening today. Evans draws on past events like the 2014 Ferguson Riots for which people took to the streets and used their bodies to protest the murder of Michael Brown by a police officer.

“I saw how these people were laying their bodies on the freeway,” Evans said. “I went to rehearsal, and I was like, ‘that’s what we’re go[ing to] do.’” 

When dancing, all the performers seem to have created a community full of support and encouragement that has contributed to their success as a company. Dance is a collaborative effort, so to be consistent, the waheedworks dancers work together to build each other up, creating a safe environment for everyone to live their truths. 

Identity, like many other factors, introduces a new way for everyone to feel the movements as intersections of race, sexual orientation, gender identity and religion guide each individual to interpret the dances in their own way.

Even though the dancers were experiencing those emotions on stage, the audience felt their energy too. 

“I was telling my friends earlier that I almost cried,” said Shima Konishi-Gray, an audience member and a freshman majoring in public relations and advertising. “I just didn’t want to cry in public … and I feel like the singing really triggered that for me.” 

The set pieces transcended past the performance, infecting the audience with the emotions seen on stage, bringing out feelings that could just be described through watching the piece. Every person on and behind the stage seems to care about the craft, constructing new ways to communicate with their bodies and finding out more about who they are in the process. Even though the performance has violence, the audience leaves with a feeling of optimism for the future.

“When I think about community, I think about healing. I think about the people taking care of me … It’s such a thing that people overlook sometimes,” said Antonio C. Wright, a waheedworks dancer.