Performers Jessie Garon, Scott McCabe and Sully Malaeb Proulx. Photo by Kendra Epik
The gasp of breath, the startling slap of flesh on flesh, the stamp of foot to floor—these are the sounds of vulnerability and power that score Heaven.
Falling on the heels of Ivanochko’s appointment to 100th Class of Guggenheim Fellows, the 20th anniversary remount celebrates legacy by bringing together a new cast and design in dialogue with this seminal work and the dancers who originally performed it.
Featuring performers Jessie Garon, Scott McCabe, and Sully Malaeb Proulx, with lighting design by James Proudfoot, the remount premieres in Toronto in September 2026 in association with The Theatre Centre.
Heaven‘s choreographer Sasha Ivanochko and interpreter Jessie Garon took some time earlier this summer to chat with Celia Green, our CSJ Communications Coordinator, about the process and history!
“I think it draws us into these other layers of the body that we don’t spend as much time with.”
The Theatre Centre- First of all, what can audiences expect when walking into Heaven?
Jessie Garon- I think for me it’s a time to sit with the body in a really special way, even within dance. There isn’t a big music score or projections or a bunch of other elements, because it’s so focused on the body. I think that’s a really unique experience.
There’s something about coming in as a viewer and sitting with the body in a way that is reflective, but proactive. I wouldn’t say it’s a meditative piece, but I do think there’s something in that, like, quieting of the spirit to focus on the body.
Even though there’s so much movement and there’s so much emotionality, I think it draws us into these other layers of the body that we don’t spend as much time with.
Photo by Kendra Epik
Sasha Ivanochko- I think what Jessie is pointing to is that there’s little accompaniment to the movement, and certainly the body is exposed 100%. You can’t get more exposed than being buck naked and also doing really hard technical things. It’s not only that, but there’s also a lot of interaction between the dancers. So, witnessing people in endurance situations, but also relating to each other. It’s very intimate that way.
And, with the exposed nature, I think, as a viewer I personally feel emotionally engaged by that. Even if it’s material that may or may not be relatable. There’s something that’s triggered in watching people in these acts of doing that – you get drawn into it.
TC- I’m so curious, Sasha, you performed in the work when it first premiered, and now you’re working with a new cast. Can you talk a little bit about those dancers? Jessie, I know you’re one of them.
SI- Yes, I was the only dancer to do my own role. I set the piece on myself and two other dancers. My own body was implicated in it both as a human being, but also choreographically, the things that were interesting to me. This piece was my first evening length work, so I was also building my choreographic toolkit.
I think my movement signature was already well established at that point, but it was the first piece I ever made where rhythm and gesture, like the strength of that in my own choreographic practice, really emerged full force. And so my voice and my way of practice is kind of embedded in the work.
I think some of the physical imprint of the choreography is so strong that we had to be very specific with the casting. Maybe Jessie can talk a little bit more about that.
JG- Sasha uses the word roles a lot, like that they’re distinct roles, in a way that is less common right now in contemporary dance, at least here in Toronto. So these three separate roles have very distinct technical requirements in a way that is less common now.
There’s somebody who has to be able to do basically jump squats with me on their back, and there’s somebody who has to be able to do a bunch of leg work. My role has a lot of really fast rhythmic things. There’s these technical requirements that are really separate but then there’s also the complexity of the triad relationship. The fact that it’s three is such an important piece.
And then there’s also this other big piece, which is that, as Sasha was talking about, there’s a huge amount of vulnerability in Heaven, and so bringing in people who are interested in that and drawn to that. It’s a certain kind of artist with a certain kind of desire, and also at a certain point in their career.
I don’t know if I would have wanted to do this 15 years ago, I don’t think I would have maybe been capable of it 15 years ago, even if I had wanted to do it.
“There’s no score to tell you how to feel about the interaction that we’re having. You have to really be present with us.”
TC- I’m going to pull a quote of yours about the work Sasha :
“The nudity was never intended as provocation. But as a way of bringing attention to the body as a site of vulnerability, agency, and human complexity.”
And I’m so curious, you know, remounting this work 20 years later when over the last 20 years, it feels like, generally, in the world, our relationship to our bodies and to agency and to vulnerability feels like it’s become especially complicated. I’m curious what you think this work can offer to people who are really feeling the complicatedness of being human and being in a body right now.
SI- What art does is that it offers a perspective to consider. It’s never been my goal to provoke somebody, or to challenge an audience, because those are words and ways of thinking that artists sometimes have. I’m always interested in challenging myself and going deeper, like, finding out where my ends are.
But in terms of the work itself, it is what it is. It’s framed. There’s nothing vague about it, like what happens across the arc of the work, while nuanced, for sure, is followable. I also think that a value in my own practice is that I, without being literal, strive to be very clear with all of the things that I’m presenting.
So I think what it offers the audience is an opportunity to engage in this world of intimacy and vulnerability. Like, just sitting and like that act of witnessing is also vulnerable. There will be sensations. There’s always sensations. If there’s not, then you’ve got to wonder why, and what’s going on with oneself in the theatre.
JG– Sasha talks a lot about connection in the work, about so much of it being about our desire for connection, and I think there’s something beautiful about that body-to-body connection, like that there isn’t text, you know? Nobody’s speaking. So the connection between us has to be established between our bodies. And I think even just that simplicity is really beautiful. And that, yeah, there’s no score to tell you how to feel about the interaction that we’re having. You have to really be present with us.
Sasha Ivanochko
Jessie Garon
TC– It’s refreshing. I’ve really found like, I don’t know, maybe this is just where I’m at right now, but there’s been a few times recently in the theater where I just am like, wow, thank god I’m watching humans relate to each other right now. It’s feeling especially moving to me in a funny way.
SI- Yeah, it’s also real. Like, even the most kind of scripted work is real, like there’s a reality going on there.
TC- Sasha, you have a background in gymnastics, and Jessie, you grew up in a rural context on a farm, which I’m assuming involved a degree of physical labor. I’m really curious to hear about what you think those early relationships to those specific kinds of movement bring to your relationship with dance in general and to this work.
SI- 100% my training is in there, in some obvious ways and others ways more like psychologically and in terms of movement intention.
There’s a latent power that is just necessary for my work. A lot of the dancers need to be extraordinarily strong, physically. There’s a lot of force that stays within the body all the time. So, whether there’s a gentle movement, or something that requires a strike through the space, or a stomp with the foot, the material is direct. And in gymnastics, everything’s direct. You don’t aim to end up somewhere close to a mat.
There are also incredibly acrobatic moments, like, one-armed backbends, and deep squats where the dancers jump up into the air and roll back down. 360 degrees of available space is used. And in terms of movement intention…you just do it. I remember one of the moments where we were talking about something in this space. I was just like- “just do it”. There’s kind of no choice in gymnastics. You do it or you don’t. If you do it halfway, that’s extremely dangerous.
So that’s one of the reasons that we have kind of an extended rehearsal process as well, so that people are confident going into something. And then dealing with the consequences of that moment as part of the performance.
Everything is so exposed – any kind of nuance around thinking and feeling is seen, and can actually take the piece in a different direction.
JG- I have to say, I’ll never forget Sasha saying in a rehearsal “If you get tired…just keep going” do you remember this, Sasha?
SI- Yeah.
JG- There was a pause after she said “if you get tired”, so all of us, like, didn’t know where it was going. Then she said “just keep going”. We’re like, oh, yeah, okay. As Sasha said, it’s not a piece where you can approach a moment at 80%, and hesitancy definitely kills.
I think I’m still unraveling what relationship to movement I had in my early life and how that’s still with me. I started dance really young, so it’s definitely shaped my relationship to movement pretty early on. But I do think there is a practicality and a power that I really appreciate in dance that I think comes more from a lot of the physical labour that I did. I still find that kind of work really satisfying. I don’t live on the farm, so I only have to go home every once in a while, so maybe it wouldn’t be as satisfying if I had to do it more.
I relate to something Sasha was saying earlier that there’s a real enjoyment to finding your own limits or finding yourself somewhere that is maybe past where you thought that limit was.
TC – If this work were a landscape, what would it look and feel like?
JG- Oh. I mean, my instinct is a natural landscape, like, not something with a bunch of buildings in it, and also something with a more solid ground, like, not like a sand that your feet sink into, or a snow, but, like, something where you can really feel your weight clearly and look out. For a long time.
But that might also be that I grew up on a prairie, and now I’m picturing prairies.
I think maybe also because something that Sasha also talks about in the work is, like, there’s the connection piece, but then there’s also, like, being alone, the aloneness that…A lot of the work is actually comprised of solo material. And dealing with the reality that as much as I want to connect my body with another body, there’s a limit to what I can do. I can’t fold myself into your flesh. I end at a certain point, and so do you. So there’s something about that reality and being able to see really far in a landscape that makes sense to me.
SI- You know, I’m gonna be really boring here in that, I immediately just think of a black space.
Just following Jesse’s comments about aloneness. Having been blessed with being in a lot of repertoire where I’ve been given the responsibility of some solo material. One of the places where I have felt like most alone is in solos. And, like, it’s not an insular thing by any means, but, It’s such a focused way of being in space.
I have really felt the implications of like, reaching across a dance floor into a wing. It demands such presence and embodiment. And there’s a tension between movement through space and the gaze of the audience. And while it’s all exposed, the interior experience is really private. And there’s something really beautiful about that. And then it brings me back to the fact that yes, we are alone in our experiences, and we will always be alone, but there is that third space, it is a third space – it’s between bodies, what’s going on in there that is really precious and so filled with energy and mystery.
Heaven runs from September 29 to October 3, 2026 at The Theatre Centre.
Rooted in the idea of heaven as a site of union, the choreography invites audiences into an intimate encounter with the body—its limits, its desires, its failures, and its need for connection—offering a viewing experience that is direct, unmediated, and deeply human.
Humans, performers, are bound by our bodies. No matter how closely we press into or empathize with another, we remain fundamentally alone in our experience. Performed naked and without music, the dancers communicate with a sensual, economical physicality that lands viscerally. The work, dramatically stark and exposed, surprises and seduces with primal imagery and provocative candour.
