Dear Mr. Dancemaker: Heather DeAtley’s Musings on 8th Day by Lior Tavori Dance Company
*Photo by Efrat Mazor
On Lake Harriet in Minneapolis, a little legend was born: “The Little Guy,” as he was affectionately referred to for over 20 years. This little gnome door at the base of a hollow tree became an iconic spot in the Twin Cities and well beyond. People of all ages would write to “Mr. Little Guy” and get responses back. Every. lLast one. Confessional and celebratory, revealing and curious, Mr. Little Guy became a beacon of goodness and hope in a troubled world, answering simply and profoundly on a small piece of paper he had typed. I coveted his responses to my messages and saved them for years. Over my 7 years living in Minneapolis, my visits to the Little Guy were like a soulful sanctuary. His identity remained a mystery up until just a few years ago.
Over the years, Mr. Little Guy must have composed by tiny typewriter thousands of notes to the heartbroken, the confused, and everything in between. Topics ranged from sibling rivalry, destiny, to all of life’s transitions, big and small. Mr. Little Guy was always kind and often shared his favorite foods as antidotes to the troubles shared.
What if we created a similar tradition around dance and choreography, a gateway into bringing performance and creative process to life on entirely new levels of engagement following a show? An opportunity for the audience to meaningfully interact with the choreographer (perhaps the dancers as well?), as they metabolized a work? A “Dear Abby” for dance lovers to thoughtfully discourse with choreographers about their work, but life as well. The two are so intertwined in the arts.
I chose to create such an avenue of communication in response to experiencing Lior Tavori’s work 8th Day. I saw the show in Pardes Hana in early November and apparently needed nearly a month to digest the work before being truly ready to write about it. A bit of context for the piece, 8th Day, originally having debuted in 2022, offers an exploration of what happens in the wake of Genesis, when God exits the stage and leaves humanity to their own devices. 8th Day showcases the incredible talents of 8 dedicated dancers, donned in grotesquely beautiful body suits that weave natural elements with human viscera. The soundscape varies from Rachmaninoff to more modern and dissonant sounds.
Dear Mr. Dancemaker,
Your piece, 8th Day, has lived in my body for nearly a month now. This is the power of art. It imprints on our cells, folds into our fascia, forever changing our very being. It had me reflecting on my 2nd birth, the birth of our son, Tevel. I love to poetically joke that I birthed the sun: our daughter, Sol and the Universe: Tevel. Tevel’s birth was a recalibration, a quiet labor that unfolded over 6 days. His journey earthside began with waters releasing as I nursed our daughter early one Wednesday morning. Each day offered a subtle re-enactment of Genesis. Through visits to and embodiment of the sea, walks with our Jack Russells, endless cloud gazing, and conversations with stars, it was an intimate dance of anticipation and waiting. We existed in a glorious state of liminality,—where I was neither of this world nor the other but summoning both to exist within me simultaneously. Nights were long, surges were many…each day an invitation for a new meditation on patience and Emuna (trust), above all else. Tevel arrived early on the morning of the 6th day from my waters releasing. He accompanied the 3rd night of Hannukah. And on the 7th day, we rested. I joke that his birth was Biblical.
On the 8th Day, I nursed and nourished.
The world you wove in 8th Day felt so contradictory to my lived experience with the birth of Tevel. In my interpretation, themes of submission, domination, and inversion of power dynamics pervasively surfaced throughout the piece. There was a repeated motif of choking and dancers standing on top of one another, physical structures of hierarchy and dominion over something. How did you arrive at these images? What did you ask of the dancers to elicit these images?
This piece has a consciousness all its own. It goes on to live in the mirror neurons and fascia of not only your dancers, but each audience member as well, creating a living mycelial network channeling information about the piece long after the actual performance. This carries a profound responsibility as a choreographer! And reinforces choreography as such an extraordinary act of courage and mechanism for shifting paradigms.
What did it feel like for you to make this work? Did you ever feel a sense of overwhelm?
The courage and boldness of the dancers struck me. They were wholly and fully committed to the work in all of its intensity, moments laced with violence almost existing simultaneously to expressions of such tenderness. An underlying tension that felt so palpable at times, dissonant in others. How did the dancers respond to the choreography? What kind of energy was present in the studio?
For me, 8th Day offered a dance-led expression of attachment wounding, emotional disconnection, anxiety unbridled and cultural disillusion. A depiction of humanity cut too soon from the breast of the Great Mother by a divine force threatened by Her Power. A cosmic umbilical cord severed far too soon.
And yet, I felt a soulful reprieve at the end of the work when a lone dancer clad in a rather frightening mask, ritually removed his mask and bodysuit. When he propelled his body around the periphery of the stage, I felt such a visceral declaration of sovereignty and liberation. Freed from the rules that came to govern this wounded new world, he sought out and claimed his freedom.
In that moment, he seemed to be the only one on stage aware of the fact that God had never left. He/She/They were there the whole time. Living and breathing through him.
And in that moment, I understood this piece meant Emuna (trust/faith) for me. Moving bodies discovering and wrestling with their own Emuna. Just as I had danced with my Emuna birthing the Universe over those sacred 6 days.
And then we rested.
With gratitude,
A dance lover
8th Day was presented on November 10, 2025 at the Center for Performing Arts in Pardes Hanna.
Heather DeAtley
Born in the United States, Heather arrived to Israel in 2011 to dive into the rich movement and dance culture here. Suzanne Dellal became her sanctuary as she immersed herself in the rich worlds of Gaga and the Ilan Lev Method. As a former Division I collegiate gymnast and dancer, movement was always at the center of her life but everything shifted dramatically following a herniated disc that required surgery at the tender age of 19 her sophomore year at the University of Iowa. Her journey into the healing powers of movement had thus begun.
Heather pulls from her long history of movement practice to create synesthetic experiences through her words, event production, poetry, tipulim and intuitive movement journeys. Creatrix of Wombyn in the Water and Wombmynt, alongside Body Poetry (Ilan Lev Method tipulim), Heather blends her fascination with somatics, neuroscience, embodiment practices, pregnancy, birth, embryology, and so much more into all she does. A love of all things dance has always underscored these other passions.
Prior to becoming an ima nearly 6 years ago, Heather had helped in coordinating Suzanne Dellal’s International Exposure festival, graduating to positions of international development and promotion with individual choreographers: Galit Liss, Sally Anne Friedland, and Adva Yermiyahu. These experiences served as the inspiration behind creating/curating the Salon Series in which she hosts female choreographers in her living room of Sde Yitzhak (including fellow Creative Writing contributors Yulia Frydin and Ella Greenbaum!). Movement and poetry are at the core of all she does.
Heather looks forward to launching her body-sourced “Poetry of” workshops later this year.