Megan Jovon Ruth Pete, professionally known as Megan Thee Stallion, released her latest single, “HISS,” on Jan. 26, sending the internet into a frenzy, especially on X, formerly known as Twitter. Minutes after its release, stans and casual listeners alike were in shock over Megans’ diss track, especially regarding its references to Onika Tanya Maraj-Petty, also known as Nicki Minaj.
Despite being a prequel, “Pearl” is able to stand on its own within the slasher genre while paying a beautiful homage to the classics. Symbolism is at the heart of all great slasher films, and A24 is no stranger to engaging it. A24 films often use color to show a transformation and to establish a character’s identity. Older horror films often use color as well, especially red to symbolize that the worst is near and to show the manifestation of repressed rage. West doesn’t try to give movie-goers something too different but plays on nostalgia and maintains what makes a slasher film good while still orienting it for modern audiences through costuming, re-imagined cliches and allusions.
Photo by Rosemery Geib ’23.
“Concourse: New Dances by Barbie Diewald and Shakia The Key,” combined parts of contemporary dance and hip-hop in appreciation of each genre.
By Jada Jackson ’26
Staff Writer
“Concourse: New Dances by Barbie Diewald and Shakia The Key,” which took place in the Kendall Sports & Dance Complex on Sept. 16 and 17, did exactly as its name suggests. By definition, a concourse is a coming together of two or more things, and the performance was just that: a breathtaking blend of both contemporary dance and hip-hop. The two styles of dance have been pitted against each other since their inception, yet their conjunction created an experience that made it hard to look away and showed love to both genres.
The show began with a few moments of silence, allowing the audience to sit with each other before the dancing started. As the lights illuminated three of the dancers, Assistant Professor of Dance and “Concourse” choreographer Barbie Diewald revealed herself to the audience. Aside from the soft music playing — which almost controlled the dancers — all that could be heard in the theater was the movement of bare feet and the melodic voices of the performers. The dancers maneuvered with calculated steps around vases, which represented new beginnings. “Each time I found out a new friend was pregnant, I filled another vase,” Diewald explained in the program. Their movements were paired with soft harmonies and the squeaks of their soles. As the piece continued and the sound grew to an almost ear splitting volume, they began to sing. The performance became more fluid and less statuesque. They danced, “fluid[ly] with each other… kind of like supportiv[ly],” Cindy Palacios ’26 commented.
As they danced, they held onto each other, pushed each other and caught each other. It appeared to be a tug of war between the performers. In the end, the dancers took their original form, mimicking the beginning of the performance. The music ended, the singing stopped and the dancers stilled.
After a round of applause and a standing ovation, the room filled with music one would expect at a house party. The lights were no longer soft — they instead morphed into a dark red. The entire crowd had a different energy, a 180-degree shift from the still, focused tone during Diewald’s earlier performance. The dancers brought out an energy that contrasted yet complemented the prior part of the show. They physically supported each other just as much, though they were more vocal. The dancers acted as their own hype men, and the crowd joined in. Hip movements were prominent throughout this piece, displayed in its whining and twerking. Even the faces of the dancers brought high energy with tongues out and faces scrunched together. As the dancers came on and offstage, the audience was presented with entrancing movements once again before the tone shifted.
The audience was still hyped up. The live drums demanded attention, but the music shifted and only a single person, Amisi Nazaire-Hicks, stood onstage. The lights were no longer red but a sensual orange and purple. “The drum is our heartbeat,” the program reads — and in this piece it surely was. The music picked up and she danced. Her body moved in tandem with the music. The music was in her blood, except this time it wasn’t energizing hip-hop but sensual R&B and Afrobeats. Her form was focused but also free — she was free.
The piece switched back to more energized music. It was loud again, but the lights were bright white. The dancers crept in and out as they danced, telling the same story but in different movements. A dance circle, again showing their support for one another, made the audience shimmy their shoulders along with the dancers on stage.
The final piece — the true concourse — was a beautiful blend of both Diewald’s and Assistant Professor of Dance and “Concourse” choreographer Shakia “The Key” Barron’s forms of dance. Audience member Melanie Leriche ’26 felt empowered while watching the final piece. “There were no words, it was all based off of emotion and movement. They didn’t need any words. … It was very empowering… as a whole [to see] different [people] coming together to express a story,” she said.
“There were no words, it was all based off of emotion and movement. They didn’t need any words. … It was very empowering… as a whole [to see] different [people] coming together to express a story.”
“Concourse” is an empowering work of art that combines two completely different yet inextricably intertwined genres in the name of empowerment, support and the importance of movement as a form of healing. Diewald and Barron put their very souls into the show and audiences left seeing both genres as companions rather than the enemies they are made out to be. Despite their differences, the necessity of dance is the same in both genres.
