Ori Flomin- Settle In
- Cecly Placenti
- 14 hours ago
- 4 min read
Choreography- Ori Flomin in collaboration with the dancers
Dancers: Sabrina DeVelis, Ori Flomin, Carolyn Hall, and Jody Oberfelder
Original Music composed and performed by Mal Stein
Costumes: Sarah Thea
Lighting: Micah D-S
Video projection: Ori Flomin
La Mama Moves! Dance Festival
May 2, 2026
La MaMa Experimental Theater
Ori Flomin’s Settle In has already begun as audiences enter the long, rectangular space at The Club at La MaMa. Before we can settle into our seats, many of us must cross the stage while three dancers perform meditative, gestural movements. Immediately, we are pulled into their world. Images of nature—rocks, blossoms, tree branches—are projected onto the brick wall behind them and across their bodies, dressed in loose white pants and tops. The dancers push and gather the air as though moving through water, their gestures linking and separating with near imperceptibility. The effect is quietly mesmerizing, drawing our attention toward something that feels both deeply personal and universally resonant.
So absorbing is Settle In’s sculptural calm that I barely notice the house lights fade as the projections brighten. The dancers’ movement shifts just as subtly. Moments of contact—leaning, cradling, lifting—draw the performers into deeper relationship. When Flomin enters, the dancers begin taking turns pausing to watch one another, offering a quieter but equally powerful form of support.
There is something uniquely intimate about dancers watching other dancers onstage. It creates a subtle but palpable bond between performers and audience, reminding us that we are participants in this shared, multi-layered act of storytelling. Rather than following a linear narrative, Flomin envelops the audience in feeling. Nuances of gesture, expression, and rhythm convey mood as the dancers interact and observe one another, suggesting a range of familial relationships. Direct, tense stares evoke discord; soft smiles radiate warmth. A duet between Flomin and Sabrina DeVelis suggests sibling rivalry as they compete for space, batting each other’s arms away to claim territory. Yet lifts and moments of unison quickly soften the tension, revealing love as the foundation beneath their friction.
This sense of fondness deepens when, as the dancers stand upstage with their backs to us, a selfie video is projected from a phone held by one of the performers. Linking arms and smiling, the multigenerational cast becomes a family. When the image shifts to a black-and-white photograph of a woman, the work turns more explicitly personal. Flomin addresses the audience directly, speaking about his grandmother, Anna. He describes her optimism in the face of hardship, her impeccable taste, elegance, and devotion to self-care. Though her skin had aged, he says he could still “feel her life through her skin,” and recalls how the recipe for her famous cake traveled “from her fingers right to her heart.” Through these intimate details, Flomin transforms private memory into collective experience. Listening to him speak with such warmth and affection, I found myself thinking of my own grandmother and the quiet wisdom, love, and rituals through which she shaped my life.
Anna’s story is one of upheaval and resilience. A Hungarian Jew taken from her home during the Holocaust and sent to a concentration camp, she met her second husband there; after the war, they relocated to Israel to begin again. In Flomin’s recollections, the seemingly mundane details of daily life become profound. The work reminds us that memory is often anchored not in grand events, but in ordinary rituals and textures—the lotion someone used, the way they baked, the small habits that outlive them. These are the details through which we remain tethered to those we have lost, grounding ourselves in the familiar as we navigate uncertainty and grief.
Settle In unfolds as a series of vignettes built from the ordinary moments that compose a life. Mal Stein’s original score, performed live onstage, functions as a tapestry of its own, weaving together nature sounds, techno beats, ambient textures, and melody. Flomin’s choreography mirrors these shifting sonic landscapes: sculptural yet fluid, detailed yet economical. In one striking section, a single light bulb suspended from a long cord illuminates only fragments of Flomin’s body as he moves, leaving the rest in shadow and reinforcing themes of ambiguity and memory’s instability. Duets and trios form and dissolve. At times, dancers support and steady one another; at others, they push, sculpt, and propel their partners through space.
Jody Oberfelder, the most senior cast member, is a dynamo—her commanding presence and kinesthetic wisdom evident in her expansive dynamic range. Flomin moves with boneless grace and exacting precision, while Carolyn Hall’s hands cup the air as though holding something precious. DeVelis, perhaps the youngest performer, carries a groundedness that belies her years. Individually, each performer is compelling; together, they move with the cohesion and familiarity of a true family.
In the final moments, Flomin wheels a tiny television to center stage as the three women repeat a rocking motif seated in a line beside him, content in one another’s closeness. A home video of an older Anna flickers across the screen while Flomin watches with a wistful smile. Settle In concludes with the same serenity with which it began—a tender tribute to memory, family, and the quiet forms of love and humanity that bind us together.
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