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IMPRESSIONS: “Figures in Extinction” by Crystal Pite & Simon McBurney Conveys "Yearning for Connection"

By Ann Moradian
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Published on December 5, 2025
Photo by Rahi Rezvani

A joint project between Netherlands Dance Theater and Théâtre de Complicité 
Co-presented by Théâtre de la Ville and Chaillot Théâtre national de la danse 

​Created by: Crystal Pite and Simon McBurney 
Performed by:  Alexander Andison, Demi Bawon, Anna Bekirov, Jon Bond, Conner Bormann, Viola Busi, Emmitt Cawley, Conner Chew, Scott Fowler, Surimu Fukushi, Barry Gans, Ricardo Hartley III, Nicole Ishimaru, Chuck Jones, Paloma Lassère, Casper Mott, Genevieve O’Keeffe, Amela Campos, Omani Ormskirk, Kele Roberson, Gabriele Rolle, Rebecca Speroni, Yukino Takaura, Luca Tessarini, Theophilus Vesely, Nicole Ward, Sophie Whittome, Rui-Ting Yu, Zenon Zubyk 
*More credits at end of article

October 22 - 30, 2025, Paris 

Netherlands Dance Theatre in Figures in Extinction. Photo by Rahi Rezvani

A flock of dancers fills the stage facing us head on, pitched forward at the hips. Their arms sweep up the center of their bodies in a giant hug that fans out into wings pressing down against the air. Again and again. Their breath begins to heave and sweat gathers. Stragglers sink, one by one, beneath the massive surface of wings, like creatures silently drowning.  

Netherlands Dance Theatre in Figures in Extinction. Photo by Rahi Rezvani

Figures in Extinction is a dance-theatre trilogy created by Crystal Pite and Sam McBurney performed by Netherlands Dance Theatre in Paris this October. Each section stands alone, but taken together, they form one of the most important works of our times. Armed with superb craftsmanship, remarkable insight, profound anguish and exquisite tenderness, Pite and McBurney approach the realities of extinction from three different angles: the massive loss of species; the loss of connection to the living; and the loss of connection to the dead. The evening begins with and returns to breath.  
 

Dancer Scott Fowler of Netherlands Dance Theatre in Figures in Extinction. Photo by Rahi Rezvani

The first section, 1.0 the list, spotlights Scott Fowler, near-naked, with arms extending into enormous horns that sculpt the space as he spirals and sways into and out of the floor. Nicole Ishimaru’s long staccato legs dart then stretch into a pirouette-ronde de jambe that deconstructs beneath her. Arms flutter tight against her chest in a stunning expression of both animal and human anguish. It’s not just the movement, but her breath that brings my heart to my mouth.  
 

Dancer Jon Bond of Netherlands Dance Theatre in Figures in Extinction. Photo by Rahi Rezvani

In crisp contrast, a fast-talking climate denier, played by Jon Bond, dazzles with firecracker footwork, spit-sharp pivots, exaggerated gestures and an eerily jerking head that woggles like it is not fully connected to his body. A gullible crowd surrounds him as he lip-synchs a glib sermon on the values of a free-market economy and the individual liberties that justify his refusal to care about anyone or anything other than himself. 
 

Netherlands Dance Theatre in Figures in Extinction. Photo by Rahi Rezvani

These solos glisten like finely cut gems in a shimmering web of ever-more ingenious groupwork. The dancers become troops of four-legged creatures collapsing, schools of fish twitching into stillness and icebergs crumbling as the names on the list of extinct species and natural phenomenon are read out. The list accelerates into an overwhelming deluge of all those lost.  

Reddish-brown light glows like hot embers and parched soil. A small group assembles the skeleton of an Asiatic Cheetah and sets it into a slow-motion walk. Even the fastest creatures on earth cannot keep up. A little girl’s voice innocently asks, “Will they come back?” 
 

Netherlands Dance Theatre in Figures in Extinction. Photo by Rahi Rezvani

We approach 2.0 and then there are the humans… seated in chairs that fill the stage. “Why don’t they do something?” the girl whispers. Oh, but they are! They are staring at their phones, captivated by a torrent of information.   

Dancer Jon Bond of Netherlands Dance Theatre in Figures in Extinction. Photo by Rahi Rezvani

Neuro-psychiatrist Iain McGilchrist’s lecture on the divided brain is the primary soundtrack for this section. We learn that the left brain specializes in detailed focus and the kinds of manipulation needed in search of food as a group of dancers peers at the tip of a pencil being sharpened. A second group stalks in feline agitation as McGilchrist tells us that the right brain excels in broad, sustained focus, on the lookout for predators and mates. We are lost today in a disconnected, lifeless left-brain world, he says, that reflects, “what we know about what we know about what we know.” Live-capture video projections by Arjen Klerkx amplify and kaleidoscope the dancers’ sharp sequential movements, creating a hall of mirrors effect. 
 

Netherlands Dance Theatre in Figures in Extinction. Photo by Rahi Rezvani

In a chaos of bodies flying, falling, rolling and leaping, we hear a baby cry. Connor Bormann spasms and quivers on the floor, splayed out like Emmitt Cawley’s Splendid Poison Frog solo from the list. Everyone ignores him, except for Sophie Whittome, who hovers hesitantly, yearning to help. She places two hands on Bormann’s chest. The relief is palpable. He climbs up her leg into a hug that begins to slide, glide and spin. Keeping at least two body parts connected at almost every moment they merge in the tenderest of duets.  
 

Netherlands Dance Theatre in Figures in Extinction. Photo by Rahi Rezvani

The Netherlands Dance Theater dancers are gorgeous. Their technical skill is excellent, their artistry undeniable, but what stands out here is their cohesion as a community, like a congregation dedicated in prayer. Sparkling wit and humour keep us laughing at our own absurdity as we take in the enormity of what we have become. Benjamin Grant’s soundscapes and Tom Visser’s lighting design combine powerfully, amplifying, contextualizing and commenting on the action.  

3.0 requiem begins and ends with the dancers in a row across the stage à la A Chorus Line. In answer to a bodiless voice, they tell us of their roots — where their parents were born, or where their grandparents came from. They touch the ground for a moment as they speak.  
 

Netherlands Dance Theatre in Figures in Extinction. Photo by Rahi Rezvani

Most of this section, however, takes place in a hospital room. The soft purple light glowing above a dying woman’s bed expands and shrinks with the sound of her breath, like the pulse of her soul. Family members gather with trepidation, orderlies change sheets irreverently. A voice narrates the five stages of decomposition as the company snaps in a jazzy kick-ball-change sequence. By the time we get to the fifth stage, skeletonization, the bones of the Asiatic Cheetah have replaced the dying woman. 
 

Netherlands Dance Theatre in Figures in Extinction. Photo by Rahi Rezvani

In a cityscape bustling with movement, a man cradles a woman’s limp body as sirens blares. Charon’s ferry for the dead floats on a river of people. The sheet becomes a portal that everyone passes through in an endless circling flow. High above this scene, light creeps in like fog gently roiling. It rotates slowly and expands in a stunning 3D projection of light made tangible by Will Duke. It is like a nebula of souls, where they come from and where they go. I am utterly entranced by its beauty.  

Netherlands Dance Theatre in Figures in Extinction. Photo by Rahi Rezvani

Figures in Extinction deals with harsh and urgent truths, but it is not brutal. A throbbing love of life is palpable throughout. This allows the work to get under our skin and touch us on the inside, deeply. Pite says, “A yearning for connection runs like a luminous thread through the whole show.” I can attest that it certainly does.