The Spring Dance Concert, “We’re All Mad Here,” presented by the dance program at Baldwin Wallace University, is both timely and timeless in its emotional impact. Directed by Christina Lindhout, with assistant direction by her sister, Sabrina Lindhout, the concert acknowledges the strange emotional contradictions of existing in today’s world, where absurdity and devastation coexist simultaneously.
The theme draws inspiration from the overwhelming nature of modern life. Especially in America, and on social media, emotional whiplash has become routine. You scroll and laugh at something harmless, and then scroll again and see images of violence, loss, and war.
Christina Lindhout spoke to this intention, explaining, “I feel like there’s a lot going on in the world right now, and we’re constantly bombarded and overstimulated with bad news, and I know that things like work and school particularly feel like they’re in kind of a bubble. I wanted an avenue for students to have an outlet to say, ‘hey, what is it that makes you mad?’”
Her words are reflected in the structure of the concert itself. There are moments of humor that invite genuine laughter, followed by moments so stark that they leave the audience contemplative.
The directors’ goal was not to confine the audience to one feeling, but to guide them through many. Christina Lindhout described this emotional journey: “I wanted them to go through an entire range. I wanted them to be touched and at times overwhelmed, moved, sad, upset, whatever it is. But I also wanted them to laugh.”
The student choreographers—Nyah Abshire, Nasir Banks, Bradley Hughes, Geneva Millikan, and Kenna Kempell—approach the theme with emotional clarity and creative confidence. Each piece feels like its own world, yet none exist in isolation. Some works lean into absurdity, using exaggerated or unexpected movements to reflect the surreal nature of modern existence. Others embrace vulnerability, exposing the quiet, internal forms of madness that often go unseen. Together, they form a mosaic of emotional truths.
Christina Lindhout reflected on the students’ creative contributions, stating, “Nyah Abshire’s piece was about her interracial identity, and kind of feeling like you don’t ever fit. And so that was her take on, ‘Hey, this is what makes me mad. Like I’m never enough of this or never enough of that.’”
The dancers themselves bring these ideas fully to life. Their performances are grounded and committed. They allow emotion to emerge through intention and presence. This makes the more explosive moments feel all the more impactful, rather than forced. The audience cannot simply watch—they must feel.
The concert’s technical elements further reinforce its emotional landscape. Lighting isolates and exposes, sometimes shrinking the stage to a single figure, other times expanding it into something vast and consuming. Music shifts unpredictably, mirroring the emotional unpredictability of the world outside the theater.
Ultimately, “We’re All Mad Here” succeeds because it reflects something deeply recognizable. It gives shape to the strange emotional reality of living in a world where joy and horror coexist in a continuous, inescapable rhythm.
As Christina Lindhout expressed, “There are times where if we don’t laugh, we’d cry, and it doesn’t always make sense, but the fact that we, as people, can hold all that at one time, I think it’s really important to acknowledge.” That intention resonates long after the performance ends. It reminds its audience that madness is not an anomaly.