Of Gods and Men: Pioneer Winter Collective Finds Brotherhood in ‘Apollo’

Miami Light Project and FUNDarte present the world premiere of “Apollo,” a new dance-theater work by Pioneer Winter Collective (PWC), on Friday, April 25 and Saturday, April 26 at Miami Theater Center, Miami Shores. (Photo by Passion Ward/courtesy of Miami Light Project)

Never shy about letting loose their Olympian but very recognizable passions on the world, Greek gods brought divinity into the everyday. Now, as if to show how those old myths still lay claim on the contemporary, Pioneer Winter Collective has spun an up-to-our-moment tale pulsating with ancient, otherworldly powers.

Relying on Winter’s direction and choreography, a South Florida group of collaborators—carrying on a mission forged almost a decade ago to make inclusive art under the biggest tent possible—will premiere “Apollo,” a long-evolving dance-theater piece that, from a queer standpoint, injects timelessness into the timely. Part of Out (Loud) in the Tropics and under the auspices of Miami Light Project and FUNDarte, the evening-length work comes to Miami Theater Center in Miami Shores, Friday, April 25 and Saturday, April 26.

In this, there will appear not just one but three experience-laden avatars of the titular god—Clarence Brooks, Frank Campisano, and Octavio Campos—along with Winter, a younger upholder of the wreath of that guardian of the arts, healing, and light.

“They come together and, very urgently within a short period of time, need to convey what the essence of being Apollo means, what the responsibility of that legacy is—its burden, its memories, even the impossibility of living out some of those expectations,” says Winter.

Pioneer Winter takes a leap with Frank Campisano , left, and Clarence Brooks, right, in back in the world premiere of “Apollo.” (Photo by Passion Ward/courtesy of Miami Light Project).

In alliance and confrontation, their moves, their voices, will show immediacy in strides and gestures we may have witnessed or indulged in ourselves, in praise and protestations we, too, may have heard or aired. Yet, for all that human striving, the hubbub will carry Delphic murmurs—a message, essential for marginalized groups, to safeguard continuity through self-definition.

“A mark of queer people is to re-invent themselves,” contends Winter, pointing to the intergenerational exchanges that motor the work. “It’s so necessary that we go through these processes of becoming so as not stagnate.  We are constantly re-emerging.”

The visitation of worldly-wise, when not world-weary, patriarchs upon a searching youth underscores a hallmark of this community. “This is about self-birthing through past lives. Each of the elder Apollos shares characteristics with the archetypal god in amplified versions of themselves. They’re there to guide me, the new Apollo, but tension exists in the way each believes I should be taught. They don’t always agree on which memories will serve me on my godly run,” says Winter.

That drama springs from a confluence of the mythopoetic—as in metaphor-rich narratives that, molded by the ages, a bard might sing—with the autobiographical—commentary on significant events and their echoing emotions from the performers’ own lives, representative of the gay experience but bound to society-at-large.

And the mythological theme has these creators looking back at the shadow cast by George Balanchine’s 1928 “Apollo,” a great neoclassical ballet scored by Igor Stravinsky. (Miami City Ballet, by the way, has put this on their closing program for next season.)  Apollo there is consecrated as a magnificent singularity, graced by the muses of mime, poetry, and dance.

“Apollo” uses dance-theater to delve into the intersection of personal history, cultural memory and mythology. (Photo by Passion Ward/courtesy of Miami Light Project)

Fundamentally, this reference point—esthetic glories recognized—mostly serves the PWC work, as Winter puts it, in “an urge to undo.  The first spark for our Apollo came around 2014 when I wanted to tell the traditional heteronormative, one-sided story by turning it queer.”

Initially, Winter toyed with the idea that the male performers would represent the muses, and the action would be set in a disco in Hades (the first tentative title was “DJ Apollo”).  This was cast aside before too long as participant testimonies enlivened the narrative and led to the work’s current shape, with the trifurcation of divinity, the fourth figure as their heir-apparent, and myth merging into memoir.

“Balanchine’s work sublimates conflict, but ours gets tender with it, holding and exposing it,” explains Winter. “Yes, some iconic images have found their way into the choreography—a fan kick, an arabesque—and even the white space typical of a ballet blanc and the god’s ascension, though that’s achieved in a different way.”

With video and prop designer Dimitry Saïd Chamy’s contribution, “a lot is either deconstructed or comments on the original. Where in Balanchine’s there’s a sash, for instance, we use about fifty feet of white fabric in our dance.”

Sound designer and composer Diego Melgar also selectively and innovatively has referenced Stravinsky’s score.   “Originally this was going to have pre-recorded accompaniment inspired by dance music from different decades since the 70s. There’s still some of that, but I wanted to find something more authentic, kind of winking at Stravinsky and his really luxurious 1920s string orchestra. I love this composer and wanted to bring in that texture. But how would I get it?,” says Melgar.

Technology to the rescue, he ended up using, on an electronic keyboard, the same kind of patches—simulation of strings on the organ—he’d been hearing following the sermons at the gospel church he’s played at for ten years.

Pioneer Winter and Frank Campisano in the Pioneer Winter Collective dance-theater work “Apollo.” (Photo by Passion Ward/courtesy of Miami Light Project)

Interestingly enough, though Melgar professes his own secularity, that’s added a touch of mysticism.  “The music has become another character in the piece,” he observes.  “It feels like I’m serving some presence which watches the piece taking place and guides its emotional sense giving it a point-of-view.”

And, for Winter, Melgar’s playing the music live will unequivocally bring a vital urgency to the emotionally charged performances.

Throughout workshops and various residencies, the dancers bounded between bearing witness and baring their souls in view of life events, often covering arduous terrain: the AIDS crisis, addiction and recovery, sexual trauma, a life in the theater. Yet hopefulness and inspiration also made their mark, for instance in honoring their mentors, to be mirrored in the dance drama.

“There were a lot of lived experiences that needed to be explored.” says Winter, “and really any one could unlock the flow into the next set of narrative questions. That’s probably why this work was slower to emerge.”

That manner of working—as an intimate ensemble, through an extended creative continuum—proved transformative for all involved. Campisano, for instance, confesses, “I learned the simplest things can be virtuous, that there has to be meaning behind what we do. Parallel to my life, this work pushed so many buttons.” He credits dramaturg Karina Batchelor-Gómez for helping turn his vulnerabilities into stronger acting.

For Campos, whose notable experience in contemporary dance theater allows for an expert perspective, this project “feels precious, leading us to work with a high level of care.”

In streamlining these men’s verbal outpourings into cogent drama, playwright Juan C. Sanchez appreciated the longer gestation period unheard of in his other projects. “Stuff needs to get under your skin,” he asserts.

Pioneer Winter with Clarence Brooks in a scene from the world premiere of “Apollo,” a new dance theater work by Pioneer Winter Collective. (Photo by Passion Ward/courtesy of Miami Light Project)

As for Melgar, developing the music in such close contact with the dancers made for deeper authenticity. “It would’ve been cool to just build music for the movement,” he says. “But, adding layers, I got to learn what their lives sound like.”  He’s amused to consider how Campisano evoked brass, perhaps a sonorous tuba; Campos, a bass clarinet; and Brooks, flutes and guitar.

Becoming more sensitized to existential issues remains at the heart of “Apollo” for Winter.  In recognition of both the legacy of mentors and the forward-looking vigor of mentees, this exalts resilience in identity.

“There are different ways of being Apollo,” he says. “Too often people think of themselves as broken instruments. But this work aims to show there’s no instrument that’s broken — you just need to find a different approach to playing it.”

WHAT: Pioneer Winter Collective “Apollo” presented by Miami Light Project and FUNDarte

WHERE: Miami Theater Center, 9806 NE 2nd Ave., Miami Shores

WHEN: 8 p.m., Friday and Saturday, April 25 and 26

COST: $30 general admission, $20 for students and seniors with valid IDs.

INFORMATION: (305) 576-4350 or pioneerwinter.com

ArtburstMiami.com is a nonprofit media source for the arts featuring fresh and original stories by writers dedicated to theater, dance, visual arts, film, music and more. Don’t miss a story at www.artburstmiami.com.