An older woman walked through the doors. A salt-and-pepper bob, slim body swimming in Eileen Fisher. Her tortoiseshell glasses balanced delicately on the bridge of her aquiline nose. She was stunning.
“Margot,” said the assistant. “This is the new choreographer, Layla Smart.”
“Right!” said Margot. She pressed her glasses up to take me in. Sunspots dotted her tan face. “Welcome,Layla! I hope you weren’t waiting too long.”
“Not at all,” I said. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person.”
We’d corresponded over email all summer. Margot Mattenberg, the director of Briar House, had shared the requirements: an evening-length piece set on a pickup company we’d select, a detailed proposal of the project-from concept to music to design-a preview event in February, a premiere in May, appearances in their promotional materials, and interviews at their communications director’s discretion. I’d said yes to everything.
“We’re thrilled to have you here this season,” said Margot. “We’ve welcomed some splendid international artists the past few seasons. This year, we wanted to celebrate Americana! Each artist-in-residence is from the states. The composer grew up in the hills of Appalachia, the visual artist is from Wyoming-she’s doing some really exciting work with watercolors. And then there’s you.”
Americana. A strange category to throw me under. I’d always felt fickle about my Americanness, tried to escape it however I could. I’d spent a semester of college trying and failing to incorporate berets into my look, another twisting my hair into what I thought were Bantu knots but that my friend Kofi-the only other Black dance student in my class at Connecticut College-informed me were simply not. Baby girl he’d said, go to a salon!
“I first saw your choreography at Montrose back in 2019,” said Margot. “A revival of your original solo show?”
I appreciated the term, as though my work had taken Broadway by storm. I’d had no idea she was there that night. It was a mixed bill, and she’d likely come to see another artist who was on the rise. I’d originally performed the solo, but set it on another dancer for montrose. It had become clear that my body no longer carried the movement in the way that I, or anyone, wanted.
“The angst in your movement reflects what a lot of people are feeling these days. It was put together beautifully with the text and the soundscape. The duet at the Palmer Center was also quite moving. I loved the power dynamic, with the woman doing all the lifting. A striking commentary. You’re going to bring something powerful to our stage. I hope you’re thinking about where you fit into the canon.”
“The canon! Wow.that’s so flattering. I’m truly just working out my five, six, seven, eights at this p
Lauren Morrow and the Promise of Briar House: An Excerpt from Little Movements
This excerpt comes from Little Movements by lauren Morrow, published September 9, 2025, by Random House. It details a pivotal moment for the author, a Black dancer and choreographer, as she begins a residency at Briar House, a multidisciplinary arts program connected to the Vermont Institute of Ideas. The passage highlights the potential for artistic growth and recognition offered by this prospect, and the encouragement Morrow receives from Margot, a key figure at Briar House.
Morrow expresses a desire to be recognized for her artistic merit, hoping to attract funding, stages, and respect from the wider dance world. She acknowledges the power of Briar House, noting its connection to a well-funded institute at the forefront of various fields like environmental science and technology. Margot, sensing Morrow’s ambition, offers both encouragement and practical advice, sharing a swahili proverb: “Haraka haraka haina baraka” – hurry, hurry has no blessing. this emphasizes the importance of patience and allowing creative work to develop organically. Margot also assures Morrow that financial resources are available to support her vision.
The excerpt concludes with a warm embrace from Margot, symbolizing the support and opportunity Morrow has been given. This residency represents a important step towards achieving her goals within the Black dance canon, a field she clearly holds in high regard, referencing Alvin Ailey’s seminal work, Revelations.
Lauren Morrow. Photo by Kate Enman, Courtesy Penguin Random House.
Little Movements by Lauren Morrow