Molly Shanahan dancing in violet and amber stage light, braids swinging, both arms lifted above her head
Molly Shanahan / Mad Shak Chicago · Since 1994
A prospectus for those who sustain the work · 2026–27

What bodies
know

For thirty-two years, Molly Shanahan/Mad Shak has made dances that loosen the armor we carry, on stage, in the studio, and in the classroom. Here’s what that work makes possible, and where it’s going.

Support the work Read Molly’s letter ↓
“If the body of a dancer is not the thing perceived in a dance performance, then what is? … It is unnamed, and comprised of the circulation of energy and the power of attention.”
Sharon Hoyer · Newcity Chicago
Molly Shanahan seated among strands of warm string lights, looking directly at the camera
Molly Shanahan, PhD · Founder and Artistic Director
Pictured at the Bogliasco Foundation, Italy, where Molly was a fellow in 2019.
A letter from Molly

Could dance save civilization?

Though I believe in it deeply, making claims about the importance of my own work doesn’t come naturally. In 2009, our board of directors and I wrestled with that challenge, asking something like: how do we make the case for our work without pretending it’s going to save civilization, but without downplaying the significance of its impact? Board members wrote a genuinely persuasive appeal, and we sent it in mid-April, near the bottom of the recession. Retail sales were falling, the housing market was collapsing, banks were still trying to extricate themselves from federal bailouts. Excellent timing!

Seventeen years later, I recognize that I am the one best positioned to make the case for my work. I have also had dancers, audiences, students, critics, and funders reflect back to me, again and again, the things I most hope the work can do.

I have thought often about my decision to remain in dance, a field still shaped by ageism, ableism, economic precarity and, strangely, a persistent devaluation of embodied knowledge. And still, I have cultivated something that is both difficult to name and profoundly important to what I understand as quality of life. It’s an honor to contribute, especially now, as AI raises increasingly complicated questions about sustainability, creativity, presence, and what is uniquely human.

Time and again, I have stewarded spaces where I—fellow dancers, students, observers—loosen some of the physical armoring we carry through daily life. Even for moments at a time, when we drop this hardening, something profound changes in the entire experience. We become more available to sensation, to ourselves, to one another, and, in performance, to an audience.

We become more human and more humane.

I have watched myself and countless dancers discover forms of authority that do not depend on domination, and audiences recognize something of themselves in bodies very different from their own. I have seen people become more curious about what their bodies inherently know and less interested in forcing them into prescribed ideas of what they should be.

Could dance save civilization? That would be a lofty claim. But it’s not an outrageous question from which to live, work, and create. Our capacities to pay attention, remain curious, inhabit our bodies more fully in the presence of others, and recognize another person’s complexity, difference, and inherent beauty are worth cultivating. This is part of what Molly Shanahan/Mad Shak contributes to the world.

With love and gratitude, Molly
This year · Our most recent work

Ex/Body:

de/fame, de/position, de/liberate
Premiered December 2025
Re-presented October 1–4, 2026
The Edge Theater, Chicago
Molly Shanahan lies curled on the dark stage, cradling a mirrored disco ball, one hand lifted near her face as scattered light falls across her arm

Ex/Body began with my own experience as a survivor and a deep respect for the body’s capacity for response, coping, and protection. Only recently has my story entered the work directly. This multi-year project has generated multiple works, including wake, dam, steel (2019) and strike, vibrate, shatter (2023). The newest piece, de/fame, de/position, de/liberate (2025), opens with a question: “Did all of this start with General Hospital?” It is about rape culture and the systems and language around it: what it means to speak out or be silenced; who is believed; how narratives are formed; how institutions respond; how knowledge gets questioned, translated, narrowed, manipulated, or overtaken.

The week we brought it back this October, the Cornell case was front and center in the news, and audiences inevitably made the connection. We are gratified that our work is so often seen as relevant and timely, and this piece perhaps more than any other, as it addresses a complicated, longstanding systemic harm we continue to confront in this moment in history.

We heard repeatedly from survivors that the piece helped them feel seen, heard, and valued. That alone was worth re-presenting the work.
Molly Shanahan
“…an uncommon ability to evoke meaning from abstract gesture.”
Audience member · Ex/Body: de/fame, de/position, de/liberate · October 2026
“One of the best pieces of performance I’ve seen in a long time, and I see a lot of performance.”
Audience member · Ex/Body: de/fame, de/position, de/liberate
In a single shaft of light, Molly Shanahan leans back across a chair, face lifted and braids falling, one arm stretched long, between a figure in a bowler hat and a dancer bowing his head
Molly Shanahan looks directly out from behind Maria DiMarzio, hands raised and fingers spread, as Maria shields her face with her arm Under falling shafts of light, Molly Shanahan bows her head, palms open and upturned, as two dancers move behind her Diana Stewart in profile, her arm stretched across the table, another performer's hand reaching in from above
Under a single warm light, one dancer crouches on hands and knees as another bends over her, hands on her back, and two more follow with hands on each other's shoulders Diana Stewart stands in amber light, looking directly out with steady composure
Jaicee Partridge, eyes closed, sweeps both tattooed arms wide in violet light as other dancers reach in at the edges of the frame
Performers fold toward one another in a low, reaching embrace
The full cast of Ex/Body gathered around a table in violet light: two performers face each other with hands nearly touching at center, others seated and standing close by, watching
After the performance

“Ex/Body is still with me, and I expect it will be for a long time.

Your movement always connects the dancers in ways that only you can do. You engage them as full humans and not only as vessels for your choreography. Your work is about so much more than the body. I was stunned and humbled by the level of honesty and vulnerability in this piece … there was an additional transparency that hit me with its strength and integrity.

We’ve all learned how to hide our trauma, but you have found a way to work with it and create from it that shows a way of being that is a gift to those of us that witness your work.”

Chicago funder

“While the topic of the work is challenging, you [all of you] were so embodied, so direct in your carving of your movement and existence in the space, that I never felt overwhelmed. … I could absorb the narrative, verbal and kinesthetic, without feeling swept inside of it. I never felt ‘uncomfortable’ in my own body, watching. Though I did feel completely focused on the unfolding.”

Chicago choreographer and teacher

Know someone who would love our work? Share it with a friend →

Who we are

Thirty-two years.
Three ways the work lives.

Founded in Chicago in 1994, MS/MS is an ensemble of dancers, thinkers, and mostly-introverted embodied researchers. Our work centers what Shanahan calls a “virtuosity of compassion,” a practice where vulnerability and technical rigor live side by side, without punishment. It celebrates bodies shaped by age, injury, resilience, and real life.

32years of making, performing, and teaching in Chicago
50+works for the stage
19Spiral Body Techniques® teachers carrying the practice forward
2023first annual SBT® teacher-certification cohort, a long-held dream realized
20+years of workshops for professional, emerging, and university dancers
I · On stage

Evening-length works that ask what happens between performer and audience

“Both patient and adventurous, Molly Shanahan likes to go deep, sometimes examining one issue in multiple works over as many as seven years. The payoff is a unique, gutsy contemplation of performance.”
Laura Molzahn · Chicago Tribune
A dancer in golden light steps forward on bare feet, one arm curved above her head, the other reaching In red light, a dancer crouches and pours water from a white pitcher into a bowl Four dancers arc their arms overhead against a glowing gold wall
“Shanahan and her longtime collaborators Kristina Fluty and Jeff Hancock vibrate on the same plane … the sensitivity and subtlety of Shanahan, Fluty and Hancock is of a quality that can be cultivated only over decades.”
Sharon Hoyer · Newcity Chicago
“A singular voice in Chicago dance”
Zachary Whittenburg · Time Out Chicago
The Delicate Hour: four dancers stand in a line of warm light, one with a fist raised high, two covering their faces with their hands, one in a red dress bowing forward with fingers spread The Delicate Hour: a man in a white shirt reaches toward three women in black, red and gray dresses who curve and bow, hands at their hips and arms arcing overhead
Molly Shanahan and Jeff Hancock dance side by side against black, each balanced on one bare foot, bodies twisting in counterpoint Molly Shanahan swings one arm wide on a lifted leg as Jeff Hancock folds in close beside her In golden light, a dancer springs onto one foot, knee lifted, her hair flung across her face
Glimpses into the archive
Archival black-and-white photograph: two dancers beneath a great billow of white silk, one kneeling and gazing up as the fabric arcs overhead
Archival black-and-white photograph: a dancer in a pale, flowing dress tips into a long diagonal balance, arms flung wide
Archival black-and-white photograph: one dancer upside down, another leaping high, a third standing still between them
Archival photograph: dancers gathered low in a warm pool of light, faces and hands turned upward, one arm reaching high above the group
Five dancers kneel close together in a pool of light, faces and arms lifted upward
Three dancers in plum-colored clothes arch back in unison, faces tipped to the light, hands curled at their sides
Two women and a man in a tie stand close, gazing upward with lifted, open hands, as if listening
Molly Shanahan alone on a blue-lit stage, head tipped back and one hand at her mouth, the other arm reaching long
II · In the making

Dance-making as embodied research

People matter. Dancers are not interchangeable. And our uniqueness shapes the work we make. In the studio, Shanahan trusts dancers as cultural thinkers and wise, agentic beings who bring immense knowledge that needn’t be taught, controlled, or disciplined. Through movement approaches, improvisational scores, collaborative invention, and rigorous observation, they become active co-authors of the work that we make.

In Restart/Mark, a mode Shanahan and dancers have developed over decades, we practice radical forgiveness: a discipline in service to creation without power-over. Stopping, repeating, hesitating, forgetting, and movement that comes from trusting one’s impulses all shape performance-worthy material. That material is wordlessly integrated with the energy that forms when people build something from nothing, and infused with both confidence and empathy. It invites observers to see without the layers of judgment that rank human worth. Shanahan and ensemble member Jeff Hancock taught Restart/Mark at the National Dance Education Organization’s national conference in Detroit (2025), and Shanahan teaches it in university residencies.

In warm stage light, three dancers shape a phrase together, hands lifted and a palm pressed to a partner's chest A dancer in a hood, eyes lowered in quiet concentration
Beneath the studio's wooden rafters, a dancer arches back, one arm reaching high and his face lifted to the light
In a sunlit studio beneath wooden rafters, a dancer in a red shirt wraps her arms across her body, eyes closed, turning inward
A dancer in striped track pants slides one bare foot long across the floor, backlit by warm amber light and lens flare
Jeff Hancock folds forward from the chest, head bowed and fingers curled, balancing on the edge of one bare foot
Our practice

What we mean by trauma-aware

Our commitment to a virtuosity of compassion is both an artistic and a public good. It means cultivating rigor without cruelty, recognizing that bodies carry histories, including trauma, and creating conditions in which vulnerability, difference, and embodied intelligence are understood as sources of creative possibility rather than limitations.

We are a trauma-aware organization, not only in policy, but in practice: it shapes the way we teach, rehearse, and make dances together. We start from the understanding that trauma is common, touching most people, if not everyone, at some point in their lives, and that most of us have also experienced oppression from the systems we live within. As dancers, we know in particular that injury is a trauma experience in body, mind, and spirit, and that injury and body pain are very common. We also know that dance training traditions have included approaches that are disciplinary, judgmental, and abusive. Research, experience, and countless personal accounts tell us this has affected nearly every dancer we encounter, and scores of audience members who have a history in dance.

All of this shapes how people learn, so we make room in our classes and rehearsals for different paces, types, and modes of learning, all within the context of a rigorous, vigorous, joyful dancing experience. Our approach favors movement that helps the nervous system stay out of threat response, so the body can learn rather than brace. This is fundamental to the unforced flow, spiral, and wave-pattern at the heart of our movement. Within the framework of every class and rehearsal, dancers have options to adapt, modify, and attend to their own needs. Much of this overlaps with the study of somatics, but even Western somatic approaches can reiterate the idea that there are ideal bodies, ideal ways of moving, and optimal alignment. We work to set those ideals aside.

Many in our community are neurodivergent, and some, including our founder, live with disability. The work asks dancers to soften, not as a lack of discipline, but as a way of honoring kinds of bodily knowledge that dance, and the world at large, too often ignore.

The research behind the work

My Name is a Blackbird: Dancing Toward a Productive Ontology of Change

In an empty studio, Molly Shanahan sinks into a wide, low stance, one arm thrust out and her head dropped toward her shoulder, her reflection pooling on the wood floor

My Name is a Blackbird (2006–07), Shanahan’s critically acclaimed evening-length solo, was a turning point in the company’s history. It transformed her approach to body, dance, and performance, and its discoveries became the ground for the new ensemble she formed in its wake. Time Out Chicago named it one of the top ten dance moments of the decade. In 2019 she completed her PhD in Dance at Temple University, mentored by Dr. Karen E. Bond. Her dissertation, a theoretical autobiography, returns to Blackbird through a thousand-page archive of rehearsal transcripts, conversations with collaborators, audience responses, and her own journals.

In conversation with the philosophers Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guattari and the somatic innovators Moshe Feldenkrais and Emilie Conrad, it pursues Shanahan’s abiding questions about form and identity: how what a body has lived through shapes the way it moves, and what becomes possible when those patterns loosen. Writing it meant reckoning, on the page, with her own experience as a survivor of sexual trauma, a reckoning that later found public form in Ex/Body. Her essay drawn from the project, “My Name is a Blackbird: release, transparency, agency,” received the inaugural Linda Rolfe New Writers Prize from Research in Dance Education.

Molly Shanahan curls low on a pale stage floor, one hand raised beside her face, her gaze fixed on the audienceIn a sunlit studio, Molly Shanahan kneels and arches back, one arm curving over her head, her belly soft and released
“For years, Molly Shanahan … has meticulously examined the alchemy that occurs between performer and audience … what happens to the observer through the act of watching, and the energetic space between all involved.”
Sharon Hoyer · Newcity Chicago
III · In the teaching

Spiral Body Techniques®

The easiest, most challenging dance class you’ll ever take.

Developed by Shanahan through decades of choreographic research and somatic self-study, SBT trains dancers in fluidity, complexity, and whole-body intelligence. It also pushes back on old ideas of virtuosity built on control, conformity, and a single ideal body.

It is rigorous, vigorous, full-out dancing: complex phrases that grow in length and detail, building real-time memory, clarity, and stamina. What changes is how dancers get there: through spiral and release rather than force, in deep connection with one another, with moments of meditative stillness, and with ease, safety, and joy.

Every class is composed live, in direct response to the dancers in the room. Teacher and students learn the phrase together. At its heart is benevolent observation: attending closely to self, other, and movement without harsh judgment, so that our busy minds have something to do besides self-judge, perfect, or dissociate.

Through Process to Performance, our annual workshop for professionals, and iterations of that workshop for university communities at Purdue University and Northwestern University, as well as our annual teacher certification, the practice now reaches university dancers, professionals, and adult students far beyond the ensemble.

In a full studio class, a dancer in red throws one arm high and presses a hand to her chest, curls flying, as dancers across the room move behind her Two dancers lift their arms high, wrists curling and fingers spread, faces turned up in concentration
Kalila Kingsford Smith laughs mid-phrase, ponytail flying, one hand sweeping across her body In bright window light, a dancer in black steps through on the balls of her feet, gaze following her extended hand A dancer in green arches sideways from a low lunge, one hand on the floor and the other arm sweeping overhead
Maria DiMarzio spirals down toward the floor, one arm sweeping long, her many-colored hair flung wide with the motion A dancer with pink hair rises long onto the balls of her feet, arms folded over her head and eyes closed, as the class moves behind her A dancer twists low across the floor, looking back over his shoulder as he spirals through his spine
A dancer with silver-streaked hair lies with her cheek to the floor, eyes closed, one hand gently unfurling On hands and knees, two dancers reach long across the gleaming studio floor, palms spread Two dancers in a full, joyful embrace in the studio
“I have learned more about the way my body works and moves in Dr. Shanahan’s courses than in any dance class I have ever taken.”
University dance student
“She has… helped me repattern my approach to movement. I have an increased awareness for subtle movement and transitions and move with greater care and less effort.”
University dance student
“I had to relearn a different way of moving and to release my muscles in ways I was not used to, but now I feel better than ever when I move.”
University dance student
“Never would I have thought it would have such a huge impact on my life physically, mentally, emotionally.”
University dance student
“She cultivates a space of genuine compassion and non-judgemental awareness of ourselves and everyone else in the space.”
University dance student
“No other residency has created the immediate sense of community, connection, and embodied empathy and confidence like Molly’s did.”
Prof. Kat Hickey · Purdue University
“Thank you for creating such generous containers for deep, nuanced, and sustained research. It’s a real gift to be part of them, and I’m grateful for all that I’m learning through this practice.”
Spiral Body Techniques® teacher-in-process
“Your choreography, teaching approach, and research in SBT deeply resonate with me as an artist and have helped shape what I hope to pursue and embrace as I continue to grow in my career.”
Student
“This work has changed my life.”
Ginger Jensen · Spiral Body Techniques® teacher
A hand resting open on the studio floor, fingers softly curled
What’s next · In creation

Remains, Animated

A new evening-length work · premiere planned for 2027 or 2028

Ex/Body was a multi-year project, but it doesn’t define us. For thirty-two years, our work has been about how bodies carry meaning, often in spite of our intentions: through memory, relationship, adaptation, and contradiction, and through everything we learn simply by living in a body.

What bodies know, remember, survive, and make possible.

Where your gift goes

Artists first

Because of the organizational choices we’ve made over many years, our overhead is extremely low, so your gift pays the actual people who make the art. In thirty-two years, our annual budget has never exceeded $100,000, and about 70% of it goes to paying our people: dancers, collaborators, and our artistic director. Nearly everything else goes to creative process and production. For Ex/Body, that meant paying our collaborators. It meant renting rehearsal and performance space and covering production, technical, music, and insurance costs. It meant paying me.

<$100Kannual budget, every year for thirty-two years
~70%goes directly to people: the artists who make the work, including our artistic director

For more than thirty years we have stayed rooted in Chicago and deliberately chosen lean administration over institutional expansion. That independence has let us take real creative risks, and it means individual donors are what sustain us. Dance is expensive to make and notoriously bad at paying for itself. Ticket sales, grants, and teaching income all matter, but no single source covers what it costs to pay artists and to make and present work.

As we set our sights on growing our budget, our focus stays the same: paying artists. Growth, for us, means that the people who make this work are paid more fairly, for more of the time it truly takes. We know that growth will depend largely on individual donors who want to see our work, our artists, and our founder thrive.

We are actively seeking a particular kind of donor: someone who believes, as we do, that dance artists should be paid for the work of making dances.

Molly Shanahan dancing in soft shafts of stage light, a hand lifted toward her face
Our goal by December 31
$20,000from individual donors, double last year’s goal
30% raised · $6,000 of $20,000

Gifts from individuals range from $50 to $3,000, and in recent years more supporters have given $500 or more. While many factors determine what any person gives, we encourage those with the means and interest to give at the higher levels of support. Every gift pays artists.

Make a tax-deductible gift
Other ways to give

By mail. Make your check payable to Molly Shanahan/Mad Shak and send it to 6546 N. Maplewood Ave, Chicago, IL 60645.

Through a donor-advised fund. Recommend a grant to Mad Shak Dance Company, dba Molly Shanahan/Mad Shak, EIN 36-4015428.

Questions? mollyshanahanmadshak@gmail.com

Good to know

What it means to be a nonprofit

Molly Shanahan/Mad Shak is a 501(c)(3) nonprofit organization: we exist, by law and by choice, to serve the public good. We do so by creating and sharing artistically rigorous, innovative dance that challenges conventional ideas about whose bodies, experiences, and ways of knowing are valued. Through performances, education, and public engagement, we enrich Chicago’s cultural life, support the livelihoods of artists, and cultivate curiosity, critical inquiry, and compassion as essential elements of a thriving society.

No one owns us and no one profits from us: every dollar we raise goes back into the work. We’re guided by a volunteer board of directors, and we report our finances publicly each year.

It also means your gift is tax-deductible. And it means something less often said:

Nonprofit doesn’t mean unpaid.

Dancers, designers, and our artistic director are skilled professionals, and paying them fairly is the heart of our mission, not a cost to be minimized. Like most arts nonprofits, we earn some of what we need through tickets and teaching, but the rest has to be given. That’s where you come in.

Four dancers walk barefoot toward a glowing gold wall, arms around one another, long shadows stretching behind them

Our capacities to pay attention, remain curious, and recognize another person’s complexity, difference, and inherent beauty are worth cultivating.

Support the work
Ensemble Molly Shanahan
Kristina Fluty
Jeff Hancock
Diana Stewart
Maria DiMarzio
Jaicee Partridge
Lighting Designer Joshua Paul Weckesser
Board of Directors Dan Brescoll
Kristina Fluty
Paul Holmquist
Michael Rogalski
Kevin Simmons
Interested in joining the board? Reach out.
Spiral Body Techniques® Teachers Molly Shanahan, PhD (Founder) · Maria DiMarzio · Kristina Fluty · Jeff Hancock · Sarah Gottlieb · Kathleen (Kat) Hickey · Christie Willis · Kalila Kingsford Smith · Emily Loar · Abby Williams Chin · Helen Lee · Dani Oblitas · Jaicee Partridge · Lauren Reed · Harlee Trautman · Amanda Timm · Ginger Jensen · Natalja Aicardi · Amy Guilmette Selected honors Bogliasco Fellowship (2019) · City of Chicago Individual Artist Program (2020) · Helen Coburn Meier and Tim Meier Arts Achievement Award (2010) · two National Performance Network Creation Fund Awards · Chicago Dancemakers Forum Lab Artist (2006) · Illinois Arts Council Fellowship in Choreography · MAP Fund semifinalist · Linda Rolfe New Writers Prize, Research in Dance Education
With gratitude to our funders and supporters
Funder logo Funder logo Funder logo Funder logo Funder logo Funder logo Studio5 Dance | Music | Theater logo