2026 Under the Radar Festival
Watch Me Walk
Anne Gridley begins "Watch Me Walk" by taking its title at punishingly literal face value. She introduces herself, grips her walking stick—never a cane, a semantic correction that quickly reveals its philosophical weight—and proceeds to walk the length of the stage again and again, in near silence, for so long that the initial charge of provocation slowly discharges. What remains is not suspense but facticity. In another theatrical ecosystem, this might register as endurance art or a sly conceptual prank; here, in a Soho Rep production presented in association with the recently concluded 2026 Under the Radar Festival, it operates as a recalibration of spectatorship itself. We arrive alert, waiting for the performance to “start,” only to discover that it already has—and that the only thing lagging behind is our attention. [more]
Try/Step/Trip
The choreography by Toran X. Moore is exquisitely attuned to both context and cast. Moore’s steps and motifs create a full canvas of movement that breathes with the beat and bends to the demands of the narrative. "Try/Step/Trip" announces itself through a distinct physical vocabulary, one that is not merely stylistic but historical and communal: step, the percussive dance form forged and refined within historically Black colleges and universities. Here, the body becomes both instrument and archive—feet striking, hands clapping, chests resonating in rhythms that carry lineage as much as sound. The choice of step is not ornamental; it is foundational, lending the work a muscular, collective language that insists on presence, discipline, and shared breath, and that roots the piece in a tradition where movement functions simultaneously as music, memory, and social bond. Rooted firmly in Black dance, the choreography adapts itself to the tonal shifts of each song and scene, turning the evening into a literal and figurative adventure. At 90 minutes, the piece demands stamina and precision from its performers, and the ensemble meets that challenge with discipline and collective resolve. [more]
Dream Feed
What "Dream Feed" does is evoke feelings, and images, and hopefully dreams. Most effective are the times when what I assume are actual dreams are recited, in one case through a voice changer, which is both funny and emotional. The music is mostly singing, but Justin Hicks plays the autoharp, an instrument you don't get to see too often in the theater (or at all). He's excellent and it makes me want to get one myself. There's also drums, but these are fairly quiet and don't take over the piece. It's mostly about the vocals, which are terrific. The audience goes bananas for it, clapping along to songs they've never heard before and leaping to their feet at the end. [more]