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14-yr-old's expressive, physics-defying 'Mad World' dance blows away AGT judges and fans

Her haunting performance is a must-see.

America's Got Talent/YouTube

Mariandrea Villegas has talent and showmanship beyond her years.

Dance is a unique art form in that the medium it utilizes is the human body itself. Simply through purposeful and graceful control of movement, dancers can express and evoke joy, sadness, fear, confusion—the whole range of human emotion. And when dancing is done well, it's utterly mesmerizing.

Such is the case with Mariandrea, a 14-year-old from Mexico who auditioned for America's Got Talent in July of 2023 and wowed both the judges and the audience with her dance performance. She has been dancing since she was 5, and as Simon Cowell pointed out, it's clear that she was born to do this.

After showing off her sparkling personality during the pre-performance interview, Mariandrea danced to a cover of Tears for Fears' "Mad World," personifying the song in her performance. But it wasn't just her intentional movement that reflected the emotional complexity of the ever-popular hit. Her facial expressions, ranging from subtle fear to a clown-like smile to genuine sorrow to angry defiance, change on a dime, adding an acting element to her routine that takes it to the next level.

Add in the incredible control she has of her body as it twists and turns and seems to defy gravity, both gracefully flowing and disturbingly contorting, and it's easy to see why she earned a standing ovation and enthusiastic praise from all four judges.

Watch:

For someone so young to have such a strong grasp of her craft is quite extraordinary, and people were wowed by her talent as well as her showmanship.

"I had to watch this more than once. Her smile, energy, and face reminds me of a young Natalie Portman. You can tell she is more than a dancer also, very intelligent, expressive, talented, yes acting too. Wow! Congratulations!" shared one commenter.

"This young lady has a very bright future ahead of her! The passion that she emanated while dancing was above and beyond what we have seen in half the dancers that are older than her... Can't wait to see what she does next!!!" wrote another.

"Stunned. I would have given her a golden buzzer. The sharpness, flexibility, timing, theatrics, and costume use. 10/10," shared another.

One commenter pointed out that her dance felt like a monologue, and another person called it "absolute art." Many people expressed disappointment that she didn't receive the Golden Buzzer, which would propel her immediately to the final round. But if her other performances are anything like this one, she's got a pretty decent chance of making it to the finals without it.

This article originally appeared on 9.18.23

From Your Site Articles

arts

Joy

Street artist creates delightful 3D scenes in walls and walkways for everyone to enjoy

David Zinn's characters bring joy to the lucky folks that happen to come upon them before they wash away.

TedxTalks/YouTube

David Zinn creates art from what he sees everywhere he goes.

Street artists are a special breed. While "the art world" can sometimes be a snooty, elite place for those with means, street art is made for everyone. Sometimes that means large public murals, but street art can be small, too. In fact, some of the best street art is so small you might miss it if you're not paying attention. But those who are can discover some delightful surprises.

Just imagine walking down a sidewalk and seeing this little fella at your feet:

Or this young lady:

Or this creature:

That would make your day, wouldn't it? Or at least bring a smile to your face for a while?

Public art is an act of love to strangers, a way of connecting to people without saying a word. It says, "Hey there, fellow human. Here's a little something to make you smile, just because."

That's the beauty of David Zinn's street art. It's meant for the public—just average passers-by—to enjoy, individually and collectively.

Zinn has created an entire world of characters who pop up in unexpected places. For instance, meet Gerald the otter, who is waiting for a blind date in this tree stump.

Zinn uses chalk and charcoal to make his cast of characters come to life in cracks and crevasses, sidewalks and tree trunks. His creations aren't meant to last forever; in fact, as Zinn points out, the temporary nature of them adds value to them.

"Famous works of art hanging in museums get seen by thousands of people every day. But this? You could be among the dozens of people who get to see this while it exists," he told CBS Mornings. "That's pretty special."

Watch how he takes something he finds in the sidewalk and transforms it into a sweet little duo.

Sometimes he uses natural things he finds as inspiration for a piece.

Other times, he uses something human-made, like this upside down terra cotta pot:

Or this manhole cover:

Sometimes the shape of a rock lends itself to a character, like Keith and his emotional support chick here:

Or the space itself serves as inspiration.

Nadine the mouse features in many of Zinn's pieces, probably due to her small size making it easy for her to fit into small spaces.

Usually his pieces use what's already there—like a crack in the sidewalk—to tell a story.

The 3D nature of his drawings make it feel as if his characters are truly there.

"Looks like another long day of things stubbornly refusing to be impossible," he writes in a caption of one of his "pigasuses."

(Speaking of having wings, Nadine found a pair for herself.)

Watch Zinn turn a simple pot into a character with personality in a matter of minutes:

His entire Instagram page, Facebook page and TikTok channel are filled with endless delight. It was nearly impossible to decide what to include in this article because I wanted to include everything.

This is all well and good, you might say to yourself, but how does Zinn make a living if he's not selling this art?

He sells books and prints of photos of his artwork on his online store. He also gets invited to schools and events. He has created a career for himself by rejecting blank canvases, putting his imagination out on the street for everyone to see for a while, then selling versions that will actually last. Pretty brilliant, really.

Zinn gave a fascinating TEDx Talk explaining how he found his own artistic niche. You'll never look at a parking meter or sidewalk the same way again.

This article originally appeared on 02.12.22

From Your Site Articles

art

Family

Why drama class gave me a reason to stay and thrive in school.

Here’s the science that explains why so many students finally feel at home when they find their art.

True

When I started doing theater in high school, I wasn't exactly looking for an outlet for my then-undiagnosed mental disorder.

I was 20 years old before someone realized I had ADHD. When I was in high school, the condition was seen as something only the problem kids had, and I was in the top of my class, so that couldn’t be me — right?

But I also acted out in those honors classes — especially when I wasn’t feeling engaged by the material. I didn’t know how to organize my homework, or my emotions, and I definitely didn’t understand how to fit in with the hypermasculine sports crowd-types.

Looking back, it’s no wonder I was drawn to the arts.

“Art has the potential to hold very powerful, even ugly feelings, in a way that can make them manageable, even beautiful, and relatable,” explains Nadia Jenefsky, co-founder and clinical director of New York Creative Arts Therapists, a private creative arts therapy group practice in New York. “It improves mental health by restoring people's dignity, their free will. You can be working on difficult problems but still experiencing some pleasure while doing it, and working with the healthy part of you that has agency and can make decisions.”

[rebelmouse-image 19533964 dam="1" original_size="1600x1123" caption="An art therapist who works with veterans. Photo by Mark Barnes/Department of Defense." expand=1]An art therapist who works with veterans. Photo by Mark Barnes/Department of Defense.

For me, this makes sense: Theater engaged every part of my hyperactive brain and helped me learn to work alongside others toward a common goal.

It was empowering and provided emotional rewards unlike anything else I'd experienced. While other teenage boys were bottling up emotions or stewing in their angst, I had found an interdisciplinary outlet to channel my erratic temperament and hypomanic instincts. In short, theater gave me that dopamine fix that my body was naturally missing — which I didn’t realize I was missing at the time.

“Young people … haven't always developed the language and cognitive skills needed to express complicated emotions,” says Jenefsky. “Art allows space for complexity and ambivalence, which is often the hard stuff of life that is difficult to deal with.”

[rebelmouse-image 19533965 dam="1" original_size="640x427" caption="My sister and I at the Tony Awards After Party in 2013, after my company received the Regional Theatre Tony. Photo by Peter Lau/Huntington Theatre Company/Flickr." expand=1]My sister and I at the Tony Awards After Party in 2013, after my company received the Regional Theatre Tony. Photo by Peter Lau/Huntington Theatre Company/Flickr.

The drama club did more than help me regulate my mania — it also helped push me through to graduation and beyond.

Theater education in high school is known to improve both verbal and math SAT scores — so on a basic level, it helped me get into Emerson College, a top school for performing and media arts, which was where I made the connections that landed me a job with an award-winning theater company.

Studies have shown that theater education improves attendance and can reduce dropout rates by giving students a reason to go to school; something bigger than themselves to work toward, where other people are relying on them.

One of my good friends who wasn’t involved in theater had already dropped out of high school by junior year. He found his sense of purpose playing drums in a punk band. Shortly after he left school, he even got to travel around the country playing on Warped Tour. When they needed a new bass player, I was given the chance to drop out myself to join them in pursuit of ultimate rock-stardom. But I turned it down — mainly because I had responsibilities to the theater club.

Statistics show that students with arts access are three times more likely to earn a bachelor’s degree, and, well, in my experience, I can understand why.

[rebelmouse-image 19533966 dam="1" original_size="640x306" caption="Possibly me if I'd dropped out of high school. Trust me, it's not as glamorous as you think. Photo by Peter Dzubay/Wikimedia Commons." expand=1]Possibly me if I'd dropped out of high school. Trust me, it's not as glamorous as you think. Photo by Peter Dzubay/Wikimedia Commons.

Even after I found the right treatment for my disorder, theater still offered an outlet for the other emotional events I could never have predicted.

From suicide to substance abuse to cancer and beyond, I saw a lot of tragic young deaths in my 20s. Many of the friends I lost also benefitted from the healing power of performing arts in high school, but adulthood turned out to be a whole different struggle for them. And as much as I’d learned to regulate my own feelings, their deaths left me dealing with a different specter — in part, because our paths, and personal problems, had been so similar.

I keep the cards from each of their funerals above my music workstation. Photo by Thom Dunn.

But it all came full circle in 2016 when I joined the cast of a play called “We’re Gonna Die” — a kind of stand-up comedy routine about death and suffering that also featured an indie rock band. Not only did I get the chance to tour around several states as a bassist — like the opportunity I passed on to stay in school — but I also got to connect, grapple with, and ultimately celebrate life and death with a different audience every night.

Once again, the skills I'd gained in high school theater helped save my life.

[rebelmouse-image 19533969 dam="1" original_size="1200x800" caption="That's me on the left, with the cast of "We're Gonna Die." Photo by Evgenia Eliseeva/Company One." expand=1]That's me on the left, with the cast of "We're Gonna Die." Photo by Evgenia Eliseeva/Company One.

Theater has the power to bring people together like no other art form. And at the right time in a person’s life, that can make all the difference.

Theater and the arts are about more than just expressing one’s self; they're about collaboration and finding yourself by being a part of something bigger. The actors, designers, writers, and audience all share an experience that is both communal and intensely personal.

“We can help people make sense of what they are experiencing, and that can be very empowering to someone who is in a situation where they may feel confused, helpless or alone,” says Jenefsky. “It can help young people with very personal issues like identity, self-esteem, and just finding their place in the world.”

It might not seem like much in high school, but that’s the kind of power people carry with them throughout their lives.

This story was written by Thom Dunn.

Based on a true story, NBC’s new drama "Rise" has inspired us to look for other real stories about the impact of theater on high schoolers' lives. "Rise" premieres on March 13 after "This Is Us." Click here to see the trailer for this new show.

Queer literature is the future. And that future looks as bright as ever in New Orleans.

True

It was a steamy New Orleans night, with a dazzling party well underway: There were people on stilts, dancers donning angel wings, and even a fire eater.

It was an unforgettable queer party. Suffice to say, when the LGBTQ community in NOLA decides to do it up, they don’t do it halfway.

But this wasn’t just any old party.

This night was an incredible show of resilience from a community that was no stranger to struggle.

It was part of the Saints and Sinners Literary Festival, one of the oldest queer literary events in the country — and since 2003, it’s represented a legacy of LGBTQ creatives, surviving and thriving under difficult circumstances.

The festival was first designed to create awareness around HIV/AIDS in the LGBTQ community as well as bringing queer and trans creatives together in celebration of the arts.

And that party with the stilts and the puppets? A fundraiser, with proceeds benefiting not just the festival itself, but the NO/AIDS Task Force, the largest AIDS services organization in Louisiana.

[rebelmouse-image 19533133 dam="1" original_size="2048x1356" caption="Photo by Ride Hamilton via Saints and Sinners Literary Festival/Facebook." expand=1]Photo by Ride Hamilton via Saints and Sinners Literary Festival/Facebook.

It's about more than books. It's a festival with impact.

Paul J. Willis, executive director and founder of the Saints and Sinners Literary Festival, sees the festival as a chance to make waves in the community and beyond. "We can be a voice in our local community and an instrument of change," he explains.

By mobilizing the community, LGBTQ writers find new ways to use the arts to create greater understanding and awareness about the issues that impact them most.

Photo by Ride Hamilton via Saints and Sinners Literary Festival.

Saints and Sinners also creates an intentional space for the queer and trans community to connect and network, celebrate successes and new artists, and recognize the awesome history of LGBTQ creatives paving the way in queer literature.

In a wider culture that so often erases the contributions of LGBTQ people, events like these create an intentional space for community-building.

And with so many opportunities for artists and appreciators of art alike, there are so many different ways to connect with others: You can attend a panel discussion or master class with writers, editors, and publishers. You can learn about some of the up and coming names in LGBTQ lit, attend book launches and readings, meet advocates working toward LGBTQ justice, or just take in the infectious energy of the Glitter with the Literati Party.

"You can lean into conversations with some of the best writers and editors and agents in the country, all of them speaking frankly and passionately about the books, stories and people they love," writes Dorothy Allison, National Book Award finalist for "Bastard Out of Carolina."

"[It’s] hands down one of the best places to revive a writer’s spirit," Allison continues.

Writer Justin Torres. Image via Saints and Sinners Literary Festival.

That spirit, and the healing that takes place at Saints and Sinners, is what the event is truly about.

It’s not just about writing — it’s about uplifting one another, walking away with more energy and purpose than you started with.

"I was a victim of a hate crime several years ago," Willis explains. The impact was devastating: He had to have his right eye removed. But it was at the festival that he found strength, friendship, and a bold new fashion choice.

"That year at Saints and Sinners, several attendees chipped in to an effort led by author and editor Ron Suresha and presented me with an awesome assortment of designer eye patches."

Because at its core, Saints and Sinners isn’t just for the love of the arts; it’s for the strength we lend one another in community.

"The festival helps ensure that the written work from the LGBTQ+ community will continue to have an outlet, that people will have access to books that help dispel stereotypes," Willis explains. "[It also helps] alleviate isolation, and provide resources for personal wellness."

And it’s the breaking down of that isolation and bringing folks together that makes the Saints and Sinners Literary Festival unlike any other.

Photo via Saints and Sinners Literary Festival.

"Imagine the flirting, the arguing, the teasing and praising and exchanging of not just vital information, but the whole spirit of queer arts and creating," Allison writes. "Then imagine it all taking place on the sultry streets of New Orleans’ French Quarter."

"That’s Saints and Sinners — the best wellspring of inspiration and enthusiasm you are going to find."

That inspiration is in abundance in a city like New Orleans. And for the queer community and the folks who support them, glitter and literature has turned out to be a winning combination.

These NOLA kids are channeling their emotions into the arts. Here's why that matters.

True

After spending 12 years pursuing acting in Los Angeles, Anthony Bean never thought he'd end up right back in his hometown of New Orleans.

However, after his teenage daughter suddenly passed away there, he felt like it was time for him to return.

Anthony Bean. Photo via Anthony Bean, used with permission.

They had maintained a close relationship by visiting each other regularly, but when she abruptly became ill and died, he realized that NOLA — his birthplace and hers — was meant to be his permanent home.

Even though his daughter was young, she had been eager to take over a small theater company Bean had started back in 1973 called the Ethiopian Theater. It was one of the few black-focused theaters in New Orleans.

So, in the wake of his devastating loss, Bean decided to turn his daughter's dream into a brighter reality.

"I wanted more of a commercial theater and an acting school," Bean says. "A church and school opened up on Carrollton Avenue. In 2000, it became Anthony Bean Community Theater and Acting School."

Bean with some of his students. Photo via Anthony Bean, used with permission.

The theater was designed to be a "quality, culturally diverse performing arts venue," and the acting school offers an eclectic group of classes to both children and adults seeking to learn more about performing, set design, and theater management.

The youth program, however, became ABCT's shining star.

"There’s such a vast need for this type of work, particularly when you’re catering to inner-city kids," Bean says.

While the craft of acting is obviously of importance, Bean says much of the work they do is based around social drama, with kids acting out what's going on in their own lives.

Students during a performance at ABCT. Photo via Anthony Bean, used with permission.

That's why the school focuses on teaching the Stanislavsky method of acting, which deals with character emotionality first and foremost. Bean says it seems to be the best way in for kids who have less of an academic background.

However, that way of working often delivers astounding results.

"I find when dealing with inner-city kids, emotion is who they are," Bean explains. "And when you incorporate that into the arts, you’ve got fireworks."

Since the beginning, the youth programs have been popular with kids and parents. That's why Bean maintains them, even while they don't have an official space.

Kids in the ABCT youth program. Photo via ABCT, used with permission.

Unfortunately their original space was turned into a charter school, so ABCT had to vacate, and is currently awaiting sufficient funds to get a new space. While fundraising in the community has been going well enough, it's been a struggle, especially since the government cut the Wisner Grant, which had supported the theater and school.

That said, he remains optimistic, especially considering the success of the most recent summer program.

This past summer, they put on two musical productions: "Soulville" and "Old Skool." If you're in NOLA during the summer months, the ABCT kids' shows are more than worth the price of admission. You won't just be supporting good theater, you'll be helping sustain a life-changing school.

The kids are learning to channel their emotionality into something constructive, and the best part is, they get to be part of a beautiful, collaborative product that earns rousing applause at the end. What could be more validating?

Not only is the program giving inner-city kids a creative outlet, it's breeding real talent.

[rebelmouse-image 19532372 dam="1" original_size="700x633" caption="A student in an ABCT production of "The Color Purple." Photo via ABCT, used with permission." expand=1]A student in an ABCT production of "The Color Purple." Photo via ABCT, used with permission.

Many ABCT students matriculate into the New Orleans Center for Creative Arts (NOCCA), one of the most prestigious art programs in the country. Some former students have even gone on to do rather well professionally in the entertainment business. Wendell Pierce — star of shows like "The Wire" and "Treme," for example — is a former ABCT student.

Bean is working tirelessly to keep ABCT afloat, and hopes the new administration will start lending a hand.

Kids in the ABCT program. Photos via ABCT, used with permission.

Programs that specifically cater to marginalized and inner-city kids are few and far between. Considering schools nationwide are cutting arts programs right and left, theaters like ABCT are becoming rare gems that need to be saved.

Not only are these programs fun for kids, having a place in which they feel they belong instills confidence in them they might not have found anywhere else.

"There are many kids out there who can’t play football, who don’t like sports," Bean says. "I'm providing an outlet for these kids."

How one woman is helping to unify Detroit through dance.

The creative arts in this town just got a major upgrade.

True

Detroit is known for its cars, Motown music, and 8 Mile (the district and the movie). But now, it wants to be known for its dance.

And Joori Jung is the woman for the job. When she moved to New York from South Korea to dance, she realized the city wasn’t for her. In a city so large, it felt to her like there was little community. So instead, she followed her now-husband to Detroit, where she settled down and founded ArtLab J.

All photos by ArtLab J, used with permission.

The lab is a dance company, but it's also more than that.

According to the ArtLab J mission statement, the organization strives to "create unity between the city's dance companies, educational institutions, individual artists, and beyond." It's long been said that dance brings more than just performance to a community, but now, ArtLab J is out to prove it.

Watch below:

When we talk about supporting the arts, there's no denying the positive ripple effect that activities like dance can have.

On an individual level, dance provides people with an outlet to express themselves, which promotes spiritual and emotional health. That can translate to less violence, stronger community ties, and better interpersonal relationships.

For kids, that can also mean a better school experience, higher academic performance, and a better shot at finding success as adults.

But reading about performance arts and seeing them in action are two different things. ArtLab J is hard evidence of the real benefits of dance in Detroit.

By setting up a dance company within the city, ArtLab J has provided not just a hub for entertainment, but also a lab for others to dabble in the arts in a welcoming space.

Jung's company of six primary dancers performs her original choreography throughout the regular season, but the lab also runs workshops, classes, and other programs to help foster a connection between the organization and the community that surrounds it.

Perhaps most impressive is what the lab has done to expand Detroit's reach by bringing its global neighbors into the city.

While ArtLab J's presence in Detroit builds strong bonds and helps foster community within the city, there's also much that can be learned by going beyond city limits and collaborating with artists outside Detroit.

The Detroit Dance City Festival is a showcase that brings choreographers from all over the world to Detroit, putting their work in front of new and diverse audiences. And in doing so, it brings the world to the people of Detroit, building connections and building a global network for its residents.

ArtLab J is just one example of how dance has a positive effect far beyond the performances themselves.

Though Jung's initiative is one of the more visible dance community programs we have, cities and towns across the country and around the world fight every day for the budget and support they need to maintain an artistic presence in their communities.

And as Detroit's dancers have shown, those efforts can only lead to good things.

Learn more at XQSuperSchool.org.

A new scholarship program gives young artists the chance to follow their passions.

It's a bold new way to reward all kinds of talent.

True

"While I’m dancing it’s just different. I feel like I want to use a word that I don’t know yet. It’s the most myself I ever feel."

For Khorii Tinson, an opportunity to go to university for what she loves is the natural extension of her lifelong passion for dance.

Her dad, Karl, said Khorii knew she wanted to be a dancer before anyone else did. Even when she was very young, she was finding ways to make dance a part of everything they did.

Despite an early dance teacher kicking her out of class for doing cartwheels — and then warning her parents that dance probably wasn’t Khorii’s thing — her love of movement never faded.

Khorii performing as a kid. Image via Live Mas Scholarship/YouTube.

Dance was a constant in Khorii's life when her father had to leave the family for Army deployments overseas. Three times he left for Iraq, with one final tour in Afghanistan. When everything else was uncertain or changing, dance was always a part of Khorii's life. Through the years, she continued to pour her heart into dancing and performing.

For some dancers, the dream of going further in their studies ends after high school — and not for lack of passion. Of the more than 7,000 universities and colleges across America, only about 80 offer accredited dance programs. Private unaccredited programs exist, but they’re often even more expensive and students who attend them might not be eligible for financial aid.

This is the reality for so many creative youth looking to follow their dreams. There aren’t enough schools with programs for what they want to do. Even if they do find a school they love and get accepted to it, there often aren’t enough scholarships to help them afford to go.

It's a big problem, and one this new scholarship program is trying to fix.

The Live Mas Scholarship is offered exclusively to talented, creative students who want to pursue higher education, but don’t fit the criteria for standard "academic" or "athletic" scholarships.

These students are artists, writers, musicians. They're filmmakers, designers, and activists. They’re powerfully talented dancers like Khorii.

GIF via Live Mas Scholarship/YouTube.

In 2016, the Live Mas scholarship fund awarded 220 scholarships to deserving recipients, ranging from $2,500 to $25,000 each. They promise a one-of-a-kind opportunity for the next generation: one that’s not based on grades or sports. There are no essays, no test scores, no right or wrong answers. There's just talent and a desire to do more with it.

Khorii received a scholarship to attend the prestigious dance program at the University of Texas in Austin.

Image via Live Mas Scholarship/YouTube.

For her, it’s the culmination of a dream and a reminder of who she is.

Khorii’s mom, Mina, agrees. "I’ve always had two words for Khorii, whenever she goes to school or she’s on stage: Be brave," she said. "Fight for your dreams fight through your failures, and you’ll survive, and through that, you’ll find your happiness. You’ll find your joy."