LED—LOOK, MOM! (2026)

Photo: Michelle Bliss

The 15th-century English proverb and cultural norm that children should be "seen and not heard" (particularly young girls) predates the field of psychology by several hundred years. Once established, psychology shifted to an opposite view—valuing the child's voice, agency, and internal experience—as it evolved from a study of "mini-adults" to the modern scientific study of child development. 

By the mid-20th Century developmental psychologists like Jean Piaget and Erik Erikson revolutionized the field by showing that children are active participants in their own learning and development, not passive recipients of adult instruction. By the late 20th Century up into our current moment focus has shifted heavily toward child agency. Researchers now study children as "social actors" who contribute to their families and cultures. By recognizing children as "agents"—capable of shaping their own worlds—psychologists argue that children must be encouraged to express their thoughts, emotions, and perspectives to thrive. As individuals with unique perspectives children require active participation in their own lives to develop into healthy, capable adults. 

Commensurately, adults—seeking to retain nourishment and inspiration from their childhood play—also require being seen in order to fully express and individuate themselves as, perhaps best registered in the witty response to the salutation “it’s good to see you” with “it's good to be seen" (commonly attributed to electrical engineer and avid wordsmith Frederick "Fritz" Pritzlaff, inventor of the gyroscope). 

What performer—actor, dancer, musician—doesn’t rely on being seen? What performer doesn’t glean from applause the energy required so that “the show must go on”? As Joni Mitchell has lyricized, they’re anxious with the tears of the actor who fears for the laughter’s sting. We all—children and adults alike—need affirmation, confirmation, attention, approval and encouragement in order to become and fulfill ourselves. 

This theme, expressed in varied and mirthful nuance, runs through LED Dance Company’s first creation of the 2026 season—“Look, Mom!” LED is shorthand for Lauren Edson, the company’s Artistic Director and co-founder with Andrew Stensaas, LED’s Creative Director and Composer, the husband-and-wife team who have choreographed the delight of imagination into the heart of Boise’s cultural scene. And it appears their children are lending influence to LED’s project. As Lauren and Andrew reveal, their children “often burst into the kitchen, desperate for attention, shouting, ‘Look, Mom!’ or ‘Look, Dad!’ ” They describe this as “both a plea and invitation, a call to be seen, and to be present” and they wonder if their own journeys into performance and the refuge they have found on stage began with that same early calling of child to parent. 

Photo: Michelle Bliss

This inspired sentiment informs “Look, Mom!” from its opening monologue performed by Michael Arellano in the DIXON’s lobby who confesses he required attention from his family as a young boy and that this thirst led him to become a dancer, which he unabashedly asks us to appreciate by exclaiming “WOW!’ as he whirls and leaps into the air. Telling is that—even after doing so—he sadly admits, “It’s not enough.” Ushering the audience into the main theater and to their seats, Arellano continues his upstaging, grandstanding and scene stealing—much to the irritated chagrin of his fellow dancers—to comic effect. Thus, with laughter and the company’s earnest desire to impress and entertain, “Look, Mom!” borrows from the French clown tradition, a sophisticated blend of stylized theatricality and social commentary rooted in the physical comedy of commedia dell'arte and bouffon. 

Laminating Chaz Gentry’s expressionistic lighting design and Jessica Nebecker’s minimalist and serviceable drapery with Chad Ethan Shohet’s evocative shadow projections enhances the dancers’ routines. Furthering the ambiance of a 1920s Parisien circus, Chanté Hamann’s colorful costuming adds collar ruffs and wrist flourishes to heighten the dancers’ gestures and to distinguish them one from the other. Mention must be made of the startling soundscapes created by Andrew Stensaas whose cracklings and crunchings add shock and value to disjointed movements by the ensemble. 

My favorite sequence was a parade of the dancers in a wandering circle set to the tune of Django Rheinhardt’s “Bel Mir Bist Du Schön” (“My Dear, Mr. Shane”). With the angled throw of Gentry’s lighting, it elicited the glamorous if decadent atmosphere of the silent movie era. 

Another notable pas de deux between Arellano and Marcel Mejia started out with Arellano counting out his steps, teaching them to Mejia, who then improvises and comes up with a count and steps of his own; a rather brilliant demonstration of the risks, frustrations and challenges of creative collaboration. 

But nothing engendered as much surprise and gentle beauty as Edson appearing in the program’s final sequence as the mother dressed in Hamann’s flowing white Pierrotesque smock touching and blessing each and every one of her dancers, reminding this reviewer of Yeats’ lovely phrase: “It seemed, so great my happiness, / That I was blessed and could bless." 

LED is, indeed, a blessing.