Ballet, Bushwick, and a Techno Party
Courtesy of Nick Brito and Project III
Much of the New York art scene reads like a parody of itself. When, last Friday, I was invited to a “ballet art techno party,” I couldn’t help but imagine chain-smoking hipsters and canned espresso martinis. I arrived at the basement of a Bushwick church hours later, the irony of it almost too good to be true.
It’s funny then that Project III, the night’s host, is no conventional art scene organization. Founded by Kasey Broekema two years ago to produce interdisciplinary and movement-based artworks, no two of their projects are ever quite the same. This event, STAMINA, was formulated to showcase a short film by Broekema herself and a photography installation by Nick Brito. Images of broken ballerinas, twisting in both tubs and clubs, were projected on the paint-chipped gymnasium wall of the sparse dance floor. Previous projects of Project III include live dance performances in Harlem parks and among Monet projections. The organization’s artist-collaborators often work across mediums and blur the threshold between disciplines. To this point, Broekema said, “Emerging artists are often stuck in a perpetual cycle, waiting for someone to hand them permission to create or validate their work. I wanted to break that cycle and create a platform where artists could stop waiting and start sharing their vision with the world.”
Courtesy of Nick Brito and Project III
STAMINA itself has a distinct vision to give its audience, fostered by the night’s showcase artists. Both installations were made to expose the ugly underside of ballet, the deception of the porcelain perfection of the so-called “ballet core.” Broekema, a dancer, directs and stars in the untitled short film, which takes her from bright dance studio pirouettes to writhing on a beach at night. Without words, the Rite of Spring-inspired piece chronicles her dizzying dance of madness, as ballet eats away at our protagonist’s mental and physical well-being. Shots cut between her rehearsal and a pair of bloody pointe shoes, creating a clear—if somewhat on-the-nose—comparison.
“While our events often attract dancers, I hoped anyone—dancer or not—could find an emotional entry point into the work,” Broekema told me. Ballet, as she observed, is often isolated into its own world, siloed behind a knowledge barrier. Tearing this down is one of Project III’s foremost missions, and Broekema originally established the organization to encourage all types of artists to embrace the raw possibilities of dance. Photographer Nick Brito, whom she met in a similar church basement in the East Village, is not a professional dancer. His previous work, however (which includes a stunningly evocative portrait series of male escorts), has elegantly used visuals to capture his subject’s hidden psychological interiorities. In STAMINA, he takes on ballet through dancer Shannon Harkins.
Courtesy of Nick Brito and Project III
“Experimenting across disciplines is a natural part of my creative process—working with the unfamiliar often feels like second nature to me,” Brito said. “For Project III, I wanted to bring a fresh perspective shaped by my own creative experiences. It was about finding the intersection between what was unfamiliar—ballet—and what was deeply familiar to me: making images that I was curious about.”
While these photos don’t quite reach the same psychological heights as his previous work, they succeed in capturing movement in a static form. Flowing material, dynamic poses, and splicing of different stills all illustrate the virtue of crossing media in high definition. Broekema, a multi-hyphenate artist herself, has created a compelling case against the rigidity of the traditional arts scene. Not only does Project III allow for multidisciplinary creations, but it also encourages its artists to expand their definitions of themselves.
“I was frustrated by the concept of existing within an expert—and simultaneously limiting—label as an artist: a ballerina, a contemporary dancer, a filmmaker, a writer, for example,” she said. “I envisioned a space where people could explore multiple artistic identities simultaneously.”
STAMINA ended with the spattering of audience members burning pieces of paper containing both their hopes and insecurities. It’s nothing new—I’ve burned, drowned, and hidden similar feelings at Brooklyn performances before—but perhaps Broekema’s crowning achievement here has nothing to do with the night itself. Project III’s self-creation and interdisciplinary ethos are powerful antidotes for the prescriptive art world.
Courtesy of Nick Brito and Project III
Beyond the DJ and installations, the organization is a testament to a do-it-yourself mentality that steps right over the walls and roadblocks that prevent artists from creating. Their featured artists—who, as far as I can tell, are primarily people Broekema has befriended through social circles and collaboration—have tapped into a profound truth: The only way to be established is to establish yourself. You can’t wait for someone to bring ballet, or any art form, into our shared artistic language. You have to create the space for it. It just so happens that space is often a Bushwick basement.
Project III: STAMINA took place on Friday, January 10, 2025 at 1139 Bushwick Ave, Brooklyn, NY.
