A Land, A Promise was created for Nimbus Dance in collaboration with the West Village Chorale. The work explores themes of immigration and migration—not through direct political commentary, but through a more human and emotional lens. For me, the ballet is less about making a statement and more about trying to understand what compels people to leave behind everything they know in search of something beyond themselves.

The piece reflects on the reality that migration has shaped so many histories, including those of this country and our own ancestors, whether by force or by choice. My hope with the work is to create a space for both dancers and audiences to step, however briefly, into the emotional landscape of displacement and imagine the uncertainty, isolation, resilience, fear, and courage that often accompany the act of starting over.

On a more personal level, the ballet also draws from my own experience of moving abroad at a young age to dance in Germany—arriving in a country where I didn’t know anyone and didn’t speak the language. While that experience is vastly different from those fleeing war, persecution, or violence, it gave me a small understanding of what it means to exist outside of familiarity and search for connection in an unfamiliar place. I can only use my own experiences, alongside research and observation, as a foundation for approaching the work with empathy and care.

The score, composed by Saunder Choi, features Emma Lazarus’ The New Colossus, the poem associated with the Statue of Liberty. Choi was drawn to the text because it affirms the idea that the United States has always been, and continues to be, a nation shaped by immigrants. His composition focuses on the poem’s final and most recognizable lines, using a post-minimalist musical language built on relentless pulse and repetition before opening into warmer, more expansive passages filled with hope and welcome.

Choreographically, the ballet moves between moments of fragmentation and unity, tension and release, reflecting both the physical and emotional realities of migration. The presence of the West Village Chorale adds another dimension to the work—the voices functioning almost as memory, prayer, community, and longing. Together, movement and music create an atmosphere that asks audiences not simply to observe these experiences from a distance, but to feel the humanity within them.