On Monday, June 15, Bodies Never Lie was honored to review a new documentary and facilitate a Q&A session with the artists following the screening at Hi-Arts in the esteemed 651 Arts Suite. The film, Touch of RED: RECOLLECTION, directed by Taylor Antisdel, provides a behind-the-scenes glimpse into the evolution and process of the Brooklyn-based arts collective, TRIBE, as they create their world-renowned multidisciplinary work, Touch of RED. The documentary explores the memories, nicknames, and experiences of TRIBE’s director, MacArthur Fellow, Shamel Pitts, throughout 7 various creation residencies.
*Screening images by MJ Martinez, courtesy of Hi-ARTS / Rehearsal stills courtesy of TRIBE
The film opens with a dark screen, accompanied by ominous sounds reminiscent of thunderclaps. Blurred red shadows twist, bend, and intersect, introducing us to Pitts’ narrative voice—rich and powerful without being forceful or aggressive. He reveals that he earned the nickname ‘Red’ at birth due to the subtle shades of his skin tone, describing it as “a response to my blackness.” As the blurry shadows sharpen, we see Pitts in profile, his hands resting on his chest, while he continues to narrate his thoughts on trying to access memories from the womb.
The film unfolds in a linear fashion, tracing the natural progression of time from the early residencies that sparked the piece’s evolution to its debut performances at New York Live Arts. Starting from the experience of the pandemic and the restrictions on touch, the film features snippets of rehearsal footage, accompanied by Pitts’ narration reflecting on the joy of simply moving together again and finding their purpose. He articulates a deeper appreciation for touch, highlighting its absence in 2020: “How vast and meaningful a sense touch is. The weight of touch for me feels like I could share my whole life with someone; there’s something very vulnerable, expansive, and powerful about that.”
The film presents a variety of research points and sources of inspiration. It begins with early childhood memories of watching boxing on television, highlighting the fascination with two men sharing the same space. We observe Pitts and his collaborators engaged in studying glowing screens and old boxing match videos, their faces illuminated. Pitts remarks, “It’s just dancing,” as the opponents bob and weave around each other without throwing a punch.
Research indicates that while women often socialize face-to-face, men typically prefer to stand or sit side by side, shoulder to shoulder. This positioning suggests that confronting something head-on is seen as opposition rather than embrace. The film explores both the volatility and tenderness inherent in drawing closer, allowing for a deeper understanding of one another.
There are clips featuring Pitts alongside his collaborator and duet partner, Tushrik Fredericks, as they take Lindy Hop lessons with instructor LaTasha Barnes. She encourages the partners to “come a little closer” to one another while Pitts smiles, confronting the unspoken shyness of drawing near to another person. Antisdell alternates between realistic shots of rehearsals and production, and dreamlike sequences where the movement appears slower and more colorful, yet hazy. The dancers are silhouetted in what seems like a hallway, illuminated by a floor lamp behind them.
It remains unclear whether these isolated shots were captured in an actual rehearsal space or intentionally staged to reveal a more personal side of the collaboration, showcasing intimacy rather than a traditional arts workspace. The viewer senses that, although the journey leads towards a production, the goal is not merely to create something specific—an assembly line process reliant on machines and mirrors. Through Antisdel’s lens, we realize that creation occurs both in designated physical workspaces and in more private settings.
We observe the artists in their Jacob’s Pillow residency, cooking dinner together and sharing insights about their relationships with friends and spouses, whose influences shape the work without being direct contributors. Much like the boxers dancing around each other without throwing punches, the match is shaped by presence, serving as an obstacle or guide navigating a maze, our environments, and the path ahead.
Though the film presents a clear beginning and conclusion for the project, the creation process is far from linear. The audience navigates through various obstacles and dead ends throughout the experience. Pitts expresses his desire to observe movement in other male bodies, alongside two childhood friends who became collaborators. Their partnership, however, led to tension and frustration, ultimately resulting in limited contact afterward. As anyone who has had to share a residence or spent too much time together ina new relationship, increased proximity can either strengthen a bond or expose problematic incompatibilities.
I don’t recall a moment in the footage where the two new collaborators danced with the same symbiosis seen between Fredericks and Pitts. Instead, there was a scene with wildly swinging arms facing opposite directions while one stood still, which felt quite aggressive. The escalating tension between performers paralleled the physical destruction of the resident studio at Jacob’s Pillow, which burned down during their residency.
In this film, Antisdel chooses to display only the text of conversations upon learning of the fire, removing the bodies and their reactions entirely. As stimuli reach the human brain, we first interpret through the amygdala and its alarm system, just before our prefrontal cortex can engage, guiding us to judge, interpret, and decide. Without the performers on screen, we are granted a sliver of space to experience this devastation in our own imagination, armed with information before understanding the reactions. This moment acts as a pause, allowing us to catch our breath before being compelled to redirect our focus.
Continuing the work in a very different studio, shot partially b the dancers using their phones, the piece progressed although in a different environment. Gone was the warm wooden secluded feel, transformed instead by a brighter, airier studio with large windows. Although the space looked conventionally beautiful, it made the dancers seen in the footage appear smaller and more exposed. I can’t help but wonder how a more cavernous space affects the creation of piece so dependent on the theme and feeling of intimacy.
We see a return to onyl two performers, Pitts and Fredericks, now in the Gibey studios, which are again spacious and bright. However, Antisdel’s camera work kept them in close frame, as if once you have emerged into the greater world it’s impossible to return to naivete, to innocence, to seclusion, but it is possible to tune out the grievances and distractions of the wider world.
The audience is taken down into the basement of New York Live Arts, where the scenic design by Mimi Lien of the boxing ring and lighting begins to frame the movement, the dancers trying on costumes and getting ready, hugging with excitement backstage as places are called. We see bits of the movement as done in rehearsal now in the performance, a series of chaines turns with one arm outstretched from each dancer starting at opposite corners of the stage space, meeting in the middle pausing before coming together. Film attendee Jacob K said, ” the film captures the spirit of how performance becomes what it will eventually be. It’s a real demonstration of how the day you plant the seed is not the day you enjoy the fruit”.
For more insight:
Although the film centers on multidisciplinary dance performance, it is not the dancing itself that grips the camera or the story. Where we do see moments of Pitts’ athleticism, stamina, balance, and reflexes, this is not about patterns and steps. The work coming out of TRIBE disregards conventions of spectacle in dance we can easily recognize and classify, rather causing a disruption of life on autopilot and a forced alertness. Touch of RED is a work that widens the gap between stimulus and response, and RECOLLECTION artfully illustrates what can be created with freedom, with openness in that space. In RECOLLECTION we see that it is a human enterprise to create- messy, complex, volatile, and richly colored.
When asked about obstacles in creating the film, Pitts and Antisdel both mentioned some of the odd spaces they found themselves, trying to set up a shoot including one in the rain on the street at night. It’s funny, because I can’t even recall a shot from the film in the rain. What has remained in my mind are the most human moments; what they ate for dinner at the Jacob’s Pillow residency, the way that Pitts’ and Fredericks hugged in the dressing room before being called to places. In conversation, Antisdel explained that his approach was to be both as invisible and as familiar as possible, to have the artists both trust his presence, but not to be so aware of a camera that it would alter the course of the work. It is in simple moments that the film also is at its most raw and revealing.
The Austrian psychiatrist and founder of logotherapy—the search for meaning in life—Victor Frankl, is quoted as saying, “Between stimulus and response, there is a space. In that space lies our freedom and our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our happiness.” Both the film and performance serve as a response to the stimulus of the creative process, standing alone as pieces of art that, much like a great relationship, complement each other without relying on one another. The greatest gift of Antisdel’s film is the raw insight we gain into Pitts and his creative journey. It’s easy to view someone as an icon and be impressed by them and their work. Through RECOLLECTION, we get to glimpse a life beyond the public persona, bridging the gap we may unconsciously create between ourselves and others. Audience member Josh J. remarked, “I was captivated by the film and Mr. Pitts. His movements were impressive, and his mind is something I’d like to step inside.” RECOLLECTION allows us that opportunity.
In its upcoming performance at Jacob’s Pillow, the piece will feature Pitts alongside newcomer Channce Williams. Williams became involved after meeting Pitts at the Guggenheim and participating in a choreography residency that Pitts mentors for TRIBE artists. When asked about his criteria for collaborators, Pitts emphasized the importance of openness, noting that he could sense the eagerness and willingness in Williams. Williams shared that he was drawn to this kind of work because of his previous experience of being typecast while at conservatory, and his desire to become a more three-dimensional artist. We will have the opportunity to experience this fresh iteration in full 3D by joining the live stream of the Jacob’s Pillow performances from June 24 to 29.
Tune Into Free Dance Performances Live From Jacob’s Pillow Dance Festival 2026
