This dance troupe will perform for free at 9 SoCal landmarks, including LACMA and Hollywood Forever

A horde of dancers scatter beneath the vaulted belly of Los Angeles County Museum of Art’s recently opened David Geffen Galleries. One dancer folds their body, slowly easing their way to the ground, while the others watch. They’re stumbling through choreography, rehearsing and laughing with each misstep.

The clamor of visiting children echoes outside the concrete structure while music plays deeper within the campus where couples ballroom dance in the sun.

Choreographer Madeline Hollander closes her red notebook and instructs the dancers to start from the beginning. Philip Glass’ score for the critically acclaimed non-narrative 1982 documentary film “Koyaanisqatsi” plays as the dancers initiate the first moments of Hollander’s choreography in the open space. The children stand nearby, watching in awe. Couples hold hands and linger, pausing as they realize a performance is underway. The dancers — now unified in formations that softly bleed into one another like clouds — demand attention. LACMA’s campus, once filled with commotion, is now solely focused on a rehearsal for the U.S. premiere of a region-wide series of free public performances in landmark L.A. spaces called “City of Dance.”

Co-presented by L.A. Dance Project and Paris Dance Project, the initiative by choreographer and LADP co-founder Benjamin Millepied takes dance outside of the theater and brings it directly to the community. The work initially premiered in Paris in 2025, spreading across the French capital and four neighboring cities. The L.A. premiere, which began Tuesday, will travel to nine notable Southern California locations including Century Park, Marciano Art Foundation, Grand Avenue (in collaboration with the Colburn School), Hollyhock House at Barnsdall Art Park, Tongva Park in downtown Santa Monica, Stearns Wharf in Santa Barbara, Hollywood Forever Cemetery, Gloria Molina Grand Park, and, finally, LACMA.

The initiative is equally ambitious in the scope of its geography as well as in its curation. The final piece incorporates the work of five choreographers — Millepied, Hollander, Dimitri Chamblas, Jamar Roberts and Pam Tanowitz — into one piece performed by 14 dancers and set to Glass’ score.

“There are a lot of communities and people who just haven’t stepped foot into a theater, whether they don’t have the means or they don’t feel invited by the architecture,” Millepied said in a recent interview. “What I love about [‘City of Dance’] is you stumble upon something where you’re on equal footing with the dancer … there’s something quite visceral about watching another human being dance right in front of you.”

Contributing choreographer Madeline Hollander takes a break from rehearsal for L.A. Dance Project’s site-specific work, “City of Dance.” Hollander is one of five participating choreographers for the piece.

(Carlin Stiehl / For The Times)

The locations were chosen for their visual and symbolic importance. Chamblas shaped his contribution based on each location’s history, culture and energy. Place can dictate the feel of a particular action. For example, fight choreography might appear more playful in a park than on a stage. The everyday environment of each location also plays a large role in how the piece is perceived. Music blasting from car windows and pets running across the grass add layers of unpredictability.

“We want the work to exist within the context of life,” Chamblas said.

The film “Koyaanisqatsi,” directed by Godfrey Reggio, juxtaposes footage that centers on the relationship between nature, humanity and technology to depict industrialization and capitalism’s impact on the climate. Millepied first saw the film when he was 18 and felt touched by it, recognizing its capacity to become a ballet. Over time, the idea organically evolved into “La Ville Dansée” / ”City of Dance.”

Since the film primarily features U.S. landscapes, both urban and environmental, Millepied considers the project’s L.A. debut a homecoming.

“In a city like L.A., you’re in this completely insane sprawling city that encompasses the American dream, Hollywood and its impact on the world,” he said.

Dancers rehearse at LACMA’s David Geffen Galleries for a site-specific performance piece called “City of Dance,” set to Philip Glass’ score for the 1982 experimental documentary “Koyaanisqatsi.”

(Carlin Stiehl / For The Times)

The title, “Koyaanisqatsi,” comes from the Hopi word meaning “life out of balance.” “City of Dance” brings this message to the forefront through its choice of locations. LACMA, for example, represents art history and community, and with its nearly $724 million expansion, also becomes a symbol of capitalism. Throughout the run of the project, select performances will be followed by conversations on urbanism and environmental change.

Hollander is particularly interested in bringing the message of the work to bear when it comes to the current ecological state of the city.

“L.A. is learning to be a place that needs to sustain itself out of balance, in particular, since the fires,” she said. “What does it mean to actively be in a time of climate crisis where there are superstorms every two to three years instead of 100 years, and there are fires continuously? And yet, we all have to continue to flock together as a community.”

The music of “Koyaanisqatsi” is split into separate sections, with a choreographer assigned to each. Hollander’s section highlights patterns by pulling inspiration from bird and plane formations to represent communities coming together. This is in stark contrast to Chamblas’ opening section, which is full of action, fighting and collision. Despite having different approaches to the score, each artist’s choreographic voice flows seamlessly into the other. When assigning sections, Millepied used a curatorial eye to give the choreographers portions of music he knew they’d be able to experiment with and make the most of.

“For me, there was a reason why Pam got those 17 minutes and not Jamar, and why Jamar got those minutes and not Dimitri, and why Dimitri opened the piece,” he said.

Hope Spears, left, and Omri Mishael dance as part of of a site-specific work called “City of Dance” being staged by L.A. Dance Project.

(Carlin Stiehl / For The Times)

Each choreographer pulled ideas from the film and score to craft the imagery of the dance piece. Chamblas found inspiration from footage of falling buildings and Union Station at rush hour. Meanwhile, Roberts turned to the score, discovering similar emotions of falling and destruction in a fluctuating chorus. Much like the film, the choreography juxtaposes joy with despair in an ever-changing environment.

“It’s a compression of life, without transition, so you go from fighting to love, to forgetting, to dying, to rebirth,” Chamblas said.

This is not LADP’s first site-specific public work. In 2013, the company collaborated with Yuval Sharon’s avant-garde opera company, the Industry, on a performance piece called “Invisible Cities” that took place throughout downtown’s bustling Union Station. Three years later, it partnered with the art collective Gerard & Kelly on an experimental project performed inside modernist dwellings, including the Schindler House.

With “City of Dance,” LADP advances its approach by putting its work in conversation with current socioeconomic and environmental issues and spreading it across Southern California. At a time when dance in L.A. feels precarious, with the closures of many leading institutions, “City of Dance” brings attention to the art form’s ability to connect with the community and promote deeper conversations about the metropolis.

Dancers rehearse at LACMA’s David Geffen Galleries as part of Benjamin Millepied’s “City of Dance” project.

(Carlin Stiehl / For The Times)

“Just to witness how the human experience can be expressed through dance in this incredibly powerful way, we appreciate the beauty of an art that’s so ephemeral, that happens in the moment and is completely fleeting, and that you can’t possess,” Millepied said. “We deal so much with the difficulties of being in the present and being together, and I think it makes dance feel more important.”

As Hollander closes her rehearsal at LACMA, the dancers run through the final phrase of the piece. They stand in a line with arms intertwined and swing their heads back to expose their faces to the clouds. Some smile, and some pensively stare over the curve of the David Geffen Galleries. They break away from the formation and leave.

Soon, so do the kids and the couples. LACMA is quiet.