In a sweltering Havana studio, the dancers of Malpaso – one of Cuba’s premier contemporary dance companies – have been without electricity for three days. Yet, as they rehearse choreographer Pedro Ruiz’s new piece, The Essence of Us, they are smiling. Dripping with sweat, they remain alert and eager to create. The camera follows dancer Esteban Aguilar as he moves across the studio’s stage with a resolute gaze. Unseen forces seem to provoke him, roughly shoving his shoulders back as if to pick a fight, but he presses ahead, unfazed. Stopping suddenly, he slaps a hand to his chest before letting it float away like a butterfly. “Watching them dance is a truth, a sincere truth that comes from the heart,” Ruiz says to the camera. “And when movement comes from within, it’s real.”
This scene is from The Essence of Us: A Cuban Story, a documentary by Nel Shelby in collaboration with cinematographer and editor Ashli Bickford. Premiering 19th September at 92nd Street Y, New York, the film anchors the opening night of the Harkness Mainstage dance series, which runs until next June. The New York-based Ruiz was originally commissioned to debut the piece live at 92NY with the Malpaso dancers and Cuban musicians, including jazz pianist Aldo López-Gavilán and the Alma String Quartet.
But when the United States government announced a new sweeping travel ban and partial visa suspension against Cubans in June 2025, the 92NY team pivoted. Instead of letting the project fall through, the team hired Shelby’s crew to film Ruiz, the company and the musicians, transforming a canceled performance into a moving documentary of American and Cuban collaboration.
Weaving together rehearsal footage, interviews and the broader canvas of Havana, Shelby’s documentary captures both the beauty of dance and the grit of the dancers’ daily lives. Malpaso’s Executive Director, Fernando Saez, explains that the company was born in 2012 out of a desire to push past systemic barriers. “After many years, the frustration of not being able to advance our agendas to their full extent led to the creation of Malpaso.”
While the film highlights the grueling reality of creating art during a lengthy power outage, Sáez maintains a grounded perspective on Cuba’s current hardships. “Throughout history, many artists have worked under truly extreme conditions,” he says. “Conditions in Cuba are very difficult, but I would not compare our circumstances to those who have worked throughout the years in conditions infinitely more difficult than ours. Even so, under these circumstances, we keep working.”
I spoke with Ruiz over video call and he explained to me how the process of creating the dance unfolded once he was in Cuba. Sáez had him teach the company’s morning class. “I think it was very smart of Fernando to invite me to teach a ballet class first,” Ruiz recalls. “It allowed me to get to know the dancers, and in that way, to ‘braid our eyes’,” an expression for intertwining gazes to truly see each other. “After that connection was made, we began rehearsals.”
For Ruiz, returning to his homeland to collaborate under such taxing conditions demanded a different approach from his usual creative process. “From the beginning, knowing I was coming back to Cuba to work with Malpaso during such a difficult time, I knew this wouldn’t be just any ordinary collaboration,” Ruiz reflects. “It had to come directly from them.”
“And I was really inspired by the creativity of these dancers, when you’re being exposed to live in the conditions that they are living in. It’s the end of May, June, it’s hot in Cuba. No air conditioning. And, working with [these conditions] is difficult, even for myself. I brought all these hot things to wear. So I started taking everything away. I used my fan. Back to tradition!” he laughs. “I think my ancestors were talking!” Ruiz then asked the dancers, “What does the essence of us mean to you, individually? And that was the way the piece began, with their own voices, telling me their stories through dance.”
For two weeks, the small company of 16 members investigated that question through movement, an exploration Shelby juxtaposes with the struggles of daily life. We watch the dancers carry gallons of purified water into the studio just to make morning coffee. We see another dancer arrive for class without any sleep, having worked all night at a second job. Another holds back tears of exhaustion as she speaks of her duty and commitment as an artist. Through these vignettes, the film shows that their artistry is not separate from, but forged by, their struggle with longstanding deprivations, not simply the latest round of cruelties.
Interspersed between these intimate studio moments, Shelby also captures the essence of today’s Cuba – a country that could appear suspended in time. The lens wanders past vibrant yet crumbling Spanish colonial architecture and through streets dominated by vintage Fords, Buicks, and Cadillacs, relics of mid-century American optimism. These sights stand as vivid monuments to 60 years of embargo restrictions. Yet, beneath the visible scars of escalating sanctions, a profound sense of solidarity, tradition, and dignity endures, mirrored by the resilience captured by Shelby’s camera inside Malpaso’s rehearsal walls.
Sáez is acutely aware that the unyielding fortitude of the Cuban people exists alongside a harrowing systemic collapse. “Misery and poverty cannot be romanticized,” he cautions in the documentary. “Having grown up in this country, to experience this level of both material and spiritual poverty, I could not have imagined this reality… even ten years ago.” He frames their daily artistic survival as a resistance against the physical and psychological debris of a failing world system. “How do we effectively prevent the mountain of garbage outside our studio from contaminating us? We have to fight against that, it cannot be normalized. The day it becomes normal is the day we definitively lose the battle – against power, and against ourselves.”
In our interview, Ruiz drew strength from the enduring spirit of his community. “People continue to give, to stay open, and to maintain that sense of humor characteristic of Cubans,” he reflected. “We can laugh at our own tragedy. It is a survival skill.” Yet, in the film, the reality of leaving the island left him heavy-hearted. “I’ll return to the United States, where, the moment I arrive, I am back in a position of privilege,” he admits. “And I will think of my dancers.” This stark contrast leaves him balancing deep affection with a lingering sense of helplessness.
While the film serves as a window into present-day Cuba, its reach extends far deeper into an increasingly uncertain world. Ruiz told me that the piece speaks to a shared global reality: “For me, it goes far beyond Cuba. It represents what is happening right now in our world, amidst all this turmoil and conflict. In the end, the only thing we have to hold onto is our humanity. That is the thread unifying us all, and to me, that is the essence of us.”
The dance, The Essence of Us, is now finished. Will it get to be seen live – perhaps next year? There are no guarantees in this wildly shifting political climate.
Meanwhile, several scenes from the filmed performance lingered with me, particularly when the ensemble moves as a single, fluid ocean. In one striking image, a woman is lifted above a wave of bodies, her arms outstretched like wings before she is softly engulfed by the collective group. Throughout the piece, this avian imagery repeats as dancers tap their hearts and extend their shoulder blades into flight. This grace is contrasted by moments of raw desperation, with some squeezing their stomachs as if gripped by hunger. Moving seamlessly between vulnerability and resistance, the dancers find a form of defense against existential threats.
Malpaso may be physically absent from the dance series, but will be honored both by the film and by a live performance by Ballet Hispánico New York on opening night at 92NY. Ruiz’s connection to Ballet Hispánico runs deep: born in Cuba and raised in Venezuela, he ultimately settled in New York City, where he danced as a principal with Ballet Hispánico for 21 years. His history with the troupe comes full circle on 19th September at 92NY with a staging of Guajira – his first choreographic work for the company, created in 1999. The whole program pays tribute to Cuba and its profound influence on American dance, with the inclusion of excerpts from Artistic Director Eduardo Vilaro’s Danzón and Cuban choreographer Marianela Boán’s riveting, myth-reimagining Reactor Antígona (Antigone Reactor).
The Essence of Us: A Cuban Story premieres 19th September at 92NY, together with performances by Ballet Hispánico New York.
See upcoming dance performances at 92NY.
This article was sponsored by 92NY.
