Some Thing Folk

Some Thing Folk

September 17 - October 3, 2025

Cullberg with Ligia Lewis Kulturhuset Stadsteatern

Ligia Lewis & Cullberg, Some Thing Folk. Photo: Cullberg

As I stand in line to take my seat for the dress rehearsal of Some Thing Folk, I notice Cullberg’s audience looks a little different. It’s not quite the crowd I’m used to for contemporary dance, and likely not Cullberg either, after moving from Dansens Hus to their new home at Kulturhuset Stadsteatern. This shift seems to have attracted a new demographic—the kind of theatre enthusiasts who would normally attend a Dramaten production with Thomas Hanzon or Rebecca Hemse, but who are now here for Cullberg. I often talk about this audience when I moderate public talks: people who are deeply engaged in the arts, whose Sunday fika conversations are filled with talk of the latest stage productions, concerts or streamed television series they’ve just experienced. As an art curator, I recognize these are not necessarily the staunchest fans of contemporary art, but they’re the type who will travel across town if a glowing review in one of the major newspapers tells them an art event is unmissable.

For many in attendance, going to Kulturhuset Stadsteatern is part of their personal cultural "brand". They take in theatre here, still remember Cullberg from the Cullbergsbaletten days, and certainly know who Mats Ek is. On this night, though, the obviously hip and artsy crowd that could mirror Cullberg’s own image is notably absent. They’ll be back, just not this night. Glancing around, I suspect I’m one of the youngest here—a reminder of what this new “public living room” in Stockholm might mean for Cullberg going forward. Ultimately, that change is a good thing. My fellow audience members, however, don’t know what’s about to hit them, courtesy of Ligia Lewis with the company. Frankly, neither do I.

Ligia Lewis & Cullberg, Some Thing Folk. Photo: Cullberg

Some Thing Folk is a rare piece. Unlike Cullberg’s last two productions—Guerilla (Renan Martins & Olof Dreijer) and Exposure (Alexandra Bachzetsis)—this work doesn’t deliver euphoria or an out-of-body experience. In fact, it seems unconcerned by whether the audience finds it traditionally compelling at all. Usually, I’m done writing my review in my head by the time I leave, but not this time. My partner in life, a former dance critic in Chicago, was saying how much he loved Lewis’ earlier pieces and how no one presents work like hers anymore.

Some Thing Folk isn’t complacent, and it’s definitely not commercial. What impresses me most is how it operates as a “thinking piece”—demanding cerebral engagement, beyond visual attention. By the time the curtain falls, the entire audience looks a little bewildered: “What did we just see?” And for a moment, we’re deciding if we liked it enough to give more than the standard polite applause. This is also the kind of performance where you collectively decide, on second thought: yes, we did like it. The applause, tentative at first, grows stronger and more on par with what the company deserves. I register this moment when we go, “Nah, this was good.”

Ligia Lewis & Cullberg, Some Thing Folk. Photo: Cullberg

The structure of Some Thing Folk isn’t strictly linear. There’s a clear beginning and a definite ending, and you’ll sense when it hits a calm, meditative phase. But everything in between forms what I think Lewis calls a “choreographic landscape.” Absurd humor bubbles up throughout—think of the old Hanna-Barbera cartoons, The Flintstones, and Fred Flintstone repeatedly falling backwards over a rock. On stage, there are flashes of violence and hints of brutality: bodies dragging others, slamming or pinning one another down. Yet none of this feels gratuitous or engineered for shock. Everything is measured, almost matter-of-fact and seamlessly integrated. Notably, the piece never feels sexual or erotic; or if it does, it’s so subtle I barely think of it. That feels refreshing. Some Thing Folk isn't just demanding for the audience; it's equally demanding for the performers, who must also use their voices, projecting in a way that makes it clear how fully Cullberg is committed to Lewis’s vision. Once again, the company shines, showing a versatility that goes beyond the craft of dance and movement.

At one point, I find myself thinking of Josephine Baker—her stage persona in Paris, and how I've linked it to Gauguin’s paintings of Tahiti, stirring up a certain gaze and fantasies about "otherness", both sexual and racial. The vibe on stage makes me think of something that could be from a Robert Rodriguez film: an alien figure walks into a raucous party, everyone freezes and sizes them up, then suddenly inclusion—and just like that, the party resumes, wilder than ever. Even if you haven’t seen this "stock" scene, you can picture it.

My generation, growing up in Sweden, related to the saying, “The Russians are coming” as a sort of absurd, farcical joke that had no anchoring in the present during the ’90s or in high school in the early ’00s. Fast-forward to the 2020s, and the Swedish Civil Contingencies Agency is delivering flyers to our mailboxes about what to do in the event of a territorial invasion by foreign nations. One pivotal statement and a corresponding question in Some Thing Folk reflect this reality—as well as others—namely, for instance, the U.S. and a society currently, quite literally, fracturing people and creating divides: “They are coming” and “Are they coming?”

Ligia Lewis & Cullberg, Some Thing Folk. Photo: Cullberg

Lewis uses the notion of some people’s ethnographic gaze and their allure toward the past—things in the past tense and “the other”—as an illustrative device to prompt us to reflect instead head-on on the present. “Folk” sometimes appears as a set of “local and demographic-specific” practices and traditions framed as niche, exotic, romantic, or “warm and fuzzy.” But as a mode of survival in 2025, focusing on what divides rather than what unites is not serving. Lewis, then, seems to be asking: what might “contemporary folk” be? Who is included, who isn’t—and why?

Ashik Zaman

About Some Thing Folk

Concept, choreography and artistic direction: Ligia Lewis

Created togther with: Anand Bolder, Arika Yamada, Girish Kumar Rachappa,Harrison Elliott, Johanna Tengan, Johanna Willig-Rosenstein, Lilian Steiner, Noam Segal, Panos Paraschou, Vincent Van der Plas, Thamiris Carvalho

Costume: Sadak Music design: George Lewis Jr a.k.a Twin Shadow

Scenography: Ligia Lewis, Pia Gyll

Choreographic assistant: Corey Scott Gillbert