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THE DANCE ENTHUSIAST ASKS: Jody Oberfelder on Premiering "Story Time" at The Center at West Park

Catch it this Friday, May 16 and Saturday, May 17, 2025

ABOUT: Choreographer and director Jody Oberfelder invites audiences into a vivid world of movement and myth with Story Time, an immersive dance-theater work unfolding at The Center at West Park. Known for turning unconventional spaces into stages, Oberfelder draws on a deep well of folklore, archetypes, and emotional textures to reimagine what a performance space — and a story — can be. Staged in a historic church currently fighting for its future, the piece is both a celebration of transformation and a quiet act of resistance. In conversation with Theo Boguszewski of  The Dance Enthusiast, Oberfelder reflects on the inspirations behind Story Time and the magic of inviting an audience to wander, witness, and wonder. 

TICKETS & MORE INFO: Click here

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Theo Boguszewski for The Dance Enthusiast: What initial spark set this project into motion?

Jody Oberfelder: I made a fairy tale piece back in 2002 when my kids were little, and that was because I was immersed in this bedtime ritual. It was a much more docile piece than this one. So I started to think, what are our stories now? What are the stories that make up our lives? How do we deal with these stock characters that take on forms of politicians and people in control? How does humanity reign? How do we navigate? Especially right now, with everything coming at you faster than you can imagine. How do you summon your inner hero to survive?
 

Over the years, you've staged work in all sorts of interesting spaces — cemeteries, train stations… What drew you specifically to The Center?

We'd been looking at a lot of different spaces, and I knew that I wanted to do something indoors this year just so I wouldn't have to worry about the weather. And once you start seeing spaces, you can see magic when you come across an interior space. I was attracted to this place also because of its own fight for survival as an art space. There's talks of tearing down the whole structure, this beautiful Romanesque church, and making a development.

I've been part of places that have dissolved, like Charas/ El Bohio in the East Village. I had my own studio and there were lots of small groups rehearsing there, and then it got bought by a greedy developer. So I think I'm making a political statement just by bringing more life to this place. I hope the community comes out to see it. I hope my art friends come out to see it, and regular people. I'm not a big elitist in terms of art. Of course I want respect from everybody in our field, but I've never really done things according to one lineage.

The Center is where Joe Papp started, before he moved downtown. I'm a downtown person myself, but I don't see this as an uptown space. It's funky as hell. It's got all kinds of really cool nooks and crannies that we're exploiting. Especially in the prologue, which is an immersive experience. People wander, not too much guidance. I want to have people just be in this zone of adventure before they start.

Were there specific myths or fairy tales that influenced the choreography?

Well, the last piece was all Brothers Grimm. Grimm are not all pretty, shined up stories. They've been sanitized by Disney. But then I started reading Celtic myths and they're really convoluted and much more pagan, not so Christian; fairies and people who change into goblins. And then I've picked up other books, Chinese folktales and international anthologies which have the most gorgeous illustrations. I go to libraries because all libraries have really good collections.

But I'm not doing literal stories. You'll get essences of stories. I mean, you might recognize that this one is like a haughty queen, or this one is Bluebeard, where this woman is seduced and devoured.

How do you use movement to evoke these types of characters?

That's the easy part. I found myself feeling more like a theater director in this piece; these dancers are all really good at summoning up the qualities I'm looking for. I would say I'm looking for something raw, something devious.

We forget about the face. I've grown up in a generation of cultivating the blank face, which has the intention of being more somatic and tuning into your interior. The downcast eyes are a way to sense. You can't be like the Rockettes all the time. But I think there's something in between, where the generosity of the movement does need to go outwards.

And I am someone who totally embraces pure movement. For me, these gradations of what movement can do are the most fascinating. And throwing them into a world where the energies bounce off each other. How the keeper of the light can be the light slasher in another section. How the haughty princess can become very vulnerable and entrapped.

In this piece, which revolves around storytelling, how do you balance narrative clarity with poetic ambiguity?

I'm not too worried that the audience finds a through-line. In the book of stories I’ve been reading, no story is longer than 15 pages. So in a way, the page turning has to do with just being there on that page. I want people to get engaged with making up their own stories in each section; it doesn't have to make sense. There is a beginning, middle, and end to the piece. And I've worked really hard on ordering the sections. Besides, for practical reasons that people have to catch their breath or change costumes, I've tried to order things so that the tone changes from something dark and nightmarish to something ridiculously funny.

In terms of the audience members making their own story, does the immersive component at the beginning play into that?

I hope so. The immersive beginning is more a series of installations. Some are still and some are moving. Some of the dancers are engaged in an activity that you could witness. Or you might have to go up to a diorama and peek in and see what the scene is.

There's a lot of props. There's this thing that looks almost like a pencil holder, and I've got somebody putting lavender in the holes. I like to involve all the senses. I hope they still have some smell by the time of the performance.

The press release mentioned original music, soundscapes, and installations. Are those collaborations with other artists?

Yes. I'm so excited. There will be two live singers. One was in the original as a fairy godmother slash stepmother, that’s Tine Kindermann. She's also done some of the set pieces. And the other, Grace Bergere, I saw perform in Tompkins Square Park just busking one beautiful sunny fall afternoon. And I was intrigued. And I went up to her afterwards and got her card and followed up. We had our first rehearsal with musicians last week. And what a difference in how that changes the room!

Who composed the music?

Grace has written three of the songs. And Tine wrote a song to some lyrics that I wrote. I used to sing in a rock band in the early 80’s, and I wrote these words called “Trapped in a Spell” in 2002 that Tine sang acapella. And now she and Grace will do a duet. I altered the words to reflect this time and this place in my life; it’s really much darker. I would say the tone of this is dark, funny, and I hope witty. I don't want to be ridiculous, but we're living in a time of absurdity where you just have to point at power figures and realize they're… ridiculous.

Dance is a time based art, and that time together is a commitment to listening, observing, and feeling something together. Like when you do yoga on your own, it's not the same as going to a class. I had this epiphany a couple weeks ago. I saw two really strong theater pieces that actually changed my head. I had this week where everything was feeling so oppressive. The political situation, everything. And then I saw The Threepenny Opera at BAM. It was so well done, I walked out of there changed. And I also saw this piece at Abrons Art Center called Becoming Eve about a son of a rabbi who becomes a woman and has to deal with these philosophical male-dominated religious powers. Both pieces were really transformative.

I think “dance theater” also has a connotation. This is not dance theater. This is dance that's theatrical. I mean, Pina Bausch had it down. That's a very high bar.

Story Time promotional poster. Photo courtesy of Jody Oberfelder Projects

Are there people in the theatrical dance space who you've been influenced by?

Well, definitely Pina. I actually have a little Pina reference in a section. It's always hard when people say, “so who do you like?” I like a lot of people. I love Trisha Brown's fluidity and brain, and her mastery of physicality. I appreciate a lot of dance for different reasons. I like a lot of the newcomers, too, and I want to see more of them.

I like being a strong woman. I like playing with ideas. I really feel an affinity with other people who do that. Faye Driscoll I admire so much – to just take something and work it, work it, work it, work it. I've always been more stream of consciousness, you could call it “ADD choreography.” I'm much more interested in these little pockets of things and how they bump up against each other.

I think we're in a time right now where we need a sense of humanity or we'll get beaten down. We need to generously offer up our art and not be told what to do. I feel so strongly about that. At the same time, I don't think I'm making directly political work. I'm making art that people can partake in, which I think breaks down a hierarchical structure of “just sit here and we'll dance for you.” Be involved, find some heaviness and levity yourself. And if you don't, that's also okay.

Is there anything in particular you hope audience members take away from the show?

I'm looking across the street, I live in an apartment building that has lots of little Rear Window type views. And I'm not going to tell the same story to each person in each room. And these stories, I'm so amazed that there's so many different versions of certain stories. Every culture has their way to explain life or the journey or the quest.

I hope that cellularly people are able to look at their own story of their life moment by moment. With dance especially, it's something that bypasses the brain and goes right to the body, to the heart, the senses. I want people to experience delight, fear… a range of textures and emotions. I don't shy away from emotions. I'm not really a dry human in real life, so I could never make a really dry piece. By dry, I don't mean there's not juiciness in pure movement. By dry, I mean a piece that's uninflected with human experience.

I tell this story, one time I was starting to crash after a show. We'd performed outdoors in somebody's yard. And then that ended and it was just like, okay, it's over. And I could feel myself plummet with post performance exhaustion. I just said how I was feeling to a French guy who was an architect. And I said, “you're so lucky what you do lasts.” And he said, “Oh, mon dieu. You don't know how your work touched me. I will keep it here and it will live on.”

So I guess that's the answer to that question: hopefully something lives on. 

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