Dance shorts to put on
Planet Nude's fifth volume of nude-themed short film reviews, this time spotlighting the art of nude dance
Dance and nudity are, like peanut butter and chocolate, two great tastes that go well together. Modern dance and nudism as a movement both came about around the same time and under the same conditions in early 20th century Germany as parts of lebensreform, a direct reaction to growing industrialization and urbanization. Dance is all about the movement of the body, and nude dance lets you watch the body work in a way few other things do. I love seeing how muscles expand and contract with movement, the kinetic effects on the performer’s skin as they move through a space. These performances collected here are a small sample of ones I’ve come across and greatly enjoyed. 🚀
Editor’s note: Because of nudity, the films below can’t be embedded here. We’ve provided links to external sites instead. Most are hosted on YouTube and require signing in to pass the platform’s age-restriction gate.
PUPA (2019)
Tania Garrido Monreal
The first dance performance I participated in was called Coleoptera Opera, back in 2022. We joked that it was essentially the beetle version of the Rite of Spring: four of us danced together in nude leotards and tights as beetles, and at the end of the performance I start having death spasms and the others carry me off to be sacrificed. In a show full of cute acts with ladybugs, bees, and marching ants, we got out there and made it weird.
You can imagine how excited I was to find this 2019 performance that shares many similarities with that act. I love how inhuman Monreal looks in this video, not just in how she spends most of it folded up like she’s trapped in a cocoon, her muscles all engaged, but also in her skittering movements. The surprised cry from an audience member when she suddenly raises up makes me grin. It’s a strange and unsettling dance, and you often forget you’re watching a person. It seems like the piece is about the strain of growth, the pain of transformation. I’m all about it. 🚀
Live Butoh Solo (2008)
By Simona Orinska
You may notice a pattern of more, well, inhuman movement in some of these videos, and it’s what I gravitate towards. I have a hard time feeling human myself, and dance lets me express that in a physical, tangible way, and in doing so, actually helps me feel more human.
In my own studies, butoh, developed in post-war Japan, has become one of my favorite dance forms, and I try to incorporate it into my own performance. Butoh is based on decay, and one of its foundations is that of the empty body - the removal of the self. You try to put yourself into an empty, zero state, not necessarily moving your body but allowing your body to be moved as if pulled by strings. It’s meant to evoke weakness and vulnerability, being barely able to stand and yet dancing all the same. This is why the practice of painting your whole body white is common in butoh.
It’s a slow form of dance, allowing you to better take in the performer’s movements. I love the blank expression that’s on Orinska’s face through this, the way the lighting changes color, the live soundscape taking place. I resonate with it so much. 🚀
Pacha - Dancing the Land (2022)
By Daina Ashbee & Gabriel Nieto
Choreographer Gabriel Nieto, inspired by a trip to South America, created this spiritual piece with Daina Ashbee about our connection to and the importance of caring for the earth. The bodies here are a part of the ecosystem, part of nature, without the separation we typically feel in modern life.
It makes me think of the deep, long history of dance, how indigenous cultures especially would use dance for ritual purposes. It also makes me think of the altered states one can fall into, when you really just lose yourself in movement, using every bit of energy you have until there’s nothing left and you just collapse. It’s like a trance, especially when you’re dancing in the moment with others. 🚀
Dandelion Dance Theater - ANICCA excerpts (2012)
By Dandelion Dance Theatre
A couple of years back after writing about dance for my own Substack, the naked gentleman himself left a comment about being involved in the Dandelion Dance Theater’s Undressed Project, and he shared this video, choreographed by Eric Kupers and performed by Jacques Poulin-Dennis. I found it incredibly moving but haven’t revisited it until more recently. The lack of music makes you really notice the sounds of the dancer’s movements across the stage, the physicality of the performance. When the other dancers step out and join, it becomes truly beautiful in a way I’m not sure how to articulate. I love how much this expresses vulnerability too, in a way the other pieces I’ve curated do not. 🚀
ORA (2011)
By Philippe Baylaucq
Okay, this one is more of a curveball or two. For one, the dancers here aren’t completely nude, and I don’t care. Additionally, what you are seeing is not even the dancers themselves in action, but the heat of their bodies captured by a 3D thermal imaging camera originally developed for military purposes. It feels alien, yet sublime, especially with the way the bodies start as blurry shapes before shifting into focus as they dance in a warehouse covered in heat-reflective panels of aluminum. This 2011 short film conceived, written, and directed by Philippe Baylauq and choreographed by José Navas feels like the closest I’ll get to seeing the human soul with my own eyes. I’ve never seen anything quite like it. It is, no doubt, my favorite of this little list of dance shorts, and one of the finest examples of the human body in motion. 🚀
That’s it.
What do you think? Do you have a favorite here? Have you ever danced nude yourself, and if so, how did it feel to you? Let me know in the comments! 🪐
My favorite was Tania Garido’s performance.