“The audience jumped in their seats as the sound of gunshots rangout at the opening of the powerful work. The dancers dressed in black, head to toe, tried to escape from the gunfire that sometimes sounded like metal doors slamming shut. Even in the quieter moments, the characters never seemed relaxed. Their lives, at any moment, could change. Short bursts of movement such as one dancer leaving the group, perhaps climbing to escape, punctuated the slower almost in-unison movements. But each dancer maintained their individuality. Rather than blending into each other, their spirit came through. The contrast was riveting. When the dancers used burkas to cover and almost strangle themselves, the music became frantic. The burkas blinded and bound the women and yet their spirit would not be suppressed. Powerful and beautiful, “Devil’s Wedding” inspired the audience. At the same time, the dance is a cautionary tale, a look behind the veil
at a frightening world.”
The Martha’s Vineyard Times

“In Prometheus Dance’s new “Dievas Mannu / Full Moon”, snow falls and a pale light casts shadows of birch trees as hunters and hunted seem to intertwine in a mysterious nocturnal ritual.  Initially, the seven dancers in white pants and skirted tunics evoke a herd of reindeer, prancing lightly, hands on head, fingers spread like antler. With their quick shifts focus, they call to mind animals in the wild, constantly alert to danger.  Yet just as easily they evolve into some ancient Nordic tribe in a circle dance accompanied by the jingle of ankle bells.  Choreographed by Diane Arvanites-Noya & Tommy Neblett, “Dievas Mannu” is a lovely, intriguing combination of the tame and the feral, set to the hauntingly exotic music of Finnish composer Wimme Saari.  While his atmospheric electronics are infused with the mournful hoots, bays, howls, and growls of the natural world, modal vocals remind us that man is never far away.”
The Boston Globe

“It’s always a thrill to see Arvanites-Noya and Neblett dance together. Their duets reflect a striking artistic kinship and the new Eyes Inside, set to the third movement of Beethoven’s String Quartet #16, proceeds with a kind of elegiac, tender coupling. One always seems to be reaching out to the other as they come together and drift apart. Graceful lifts and supports play out through subtle shifts of weight and exchanges of energy. A head rests in an outstretched hand, an embrace doesn’t release so much as evaporate. More abstract, less contextually provocative than past duets, Eyes Inside feeds on the pleasure of the moment.”
The Boston Globe

“Troika”, consists of two contrasting trios.  In the first, the dances are rigorously athletic, flinging themselves through space, into one another’s arms, and onto the floor with youthful abandon.  The second trio features three members of Prometheus’ Elders Ensemble of dancers age 60-85.  Though this trio begins like the other, the energy is controlled, propelled more by friendly camaraderie and mature grace than by the competitive edge fueling the younger trio.”
The Boston Globe

“The Queens’ Spectre featured four women in black velvet robes topped by white Elizabethean-style ruffs at the neck. Perhaps portraying Henry VIIIís tormented wives or the cats-cradle enemies that surrounded his daughters, the dancers were tethered to ladderback chairs that served as home base, building block, trap, and sometimes prison. The often erotic movement was freighted with powerful emotions and regret, as if these women were expressing their collective fate through convulsions or fragmented falls.”
Dance Magazine

“On the other end of the spectrum, Solace is an exquisite study of the dynamics of mature friendship ... The four are interconnected, with fluid partnerships forming, changing, then re-forming. They come together as a group, arms gently cradling, supporting, and lifting with the gentle, thrusting shifts of weight characteristic of contact improvisation. Then they spin apart, only to be drawn back in, It is both poignant and playful."
The Boston Globe

"Far Fairer Hopes is a pastoral abstract dance for four women that suggests sweet simplicity. Set to the adagio of Schubertís String Quintet in C Major, it is full of sweeping lyricism, with long-lined balletic turns and extensions softened by elegantly curved arms. Itís unabashedly pretty, which is rare for Prometheus. But just underneath the glowing patina is an air of melancholy that gives the work depth - an arm draped consolingly over a shoulder, a cheek pressed to a bare back, two women nestling side by side, as if asleep. And one dancer is often cast apart from the others, as if enduring some private pain."
The Boston Globe

“The movement material was singular, unlike anything else I've ever seen, and skillfully organized. At the philisophical level, the dance raises some fascinating issues. Why not present movement that has been previously been viewed as "illness" by society at large, in a theatrical context? In making this piece, you have smashed a big taboo, for which I applaud you.”
Tedd Bale (The Boston Herald)

“The evening’s big group work is the vivid “Crazy Girl”, an ode to rural working women.  Buckets, washtubs, and trash cans are their tools. The images are compelling – the women in slow procession with buckets balanced on their heads or standing on trash cans as pedestals, folk dance moves that seem to buckle under bowed  backs, shoulders shrugging, heads flung side to side.  The high kicks, sprightly jumps, lifts, and flat-out runs suggest a vibrant communal spirit in the midst of the daily grind.”
The Boston Globe

“Prometheus Dance’s provocative new Dreams, given its world premiere last night to a packed house at the Multicultural Arts Center, is rich in the kind of fantastical imagery that informs our most fanciful nighttime flights. Unlike many of Prometheus’ full-evening works, which deal with sociological themes and tend to be narrative in structure, Dreams deals more in private fantasy, with collage-like imagery that unspools as a seamless series of short dances. While the structure is a departure† for the company, the movement aesthetic is trademark Prometheus, rigorous athleticism complemented by vivid gestures tinged with an air of melodrama. It is a clever, compelling blend of the elegantly lyrical and the unceremoniously awkward.”
The Boston Globe

“Ms. Noya and Mr. Neblett’s Knowing We Can Never Know, another premiere, takes Jose Limon’s narrative approach into the 21st century. It’s a roiling, boiling pot of emotion shaped not so much by patterns as by movement motifs. The dancers sprint from style to style with impressive ease, embodying some of them rapaciously, others more tentatively. A piece for eight set to Dmitri Shostakovich’s String Quartet #8, the piece has a theme that asks: What is our reason for being in the first place? The set is haunting: four chairs with high ladder backs line the top of the stage. The mood is somber, the movement propulsive, though less so than in earlier Noya/Neblett works: here an air of acceptance softens the impact. Bodies roll, and legs step over them. Feet skitter under torsos suspended perpendicular to the floor. Momentum, not effort, drives the movement sequences; what follows is the necessary result of what came before.”
The Boston Globe

“Choreographers Diane Noya and Tommy Neblett, Artistic Directors of Prometheus Dance, make powerful political theatre that hovers on the edge of tears. In their latest work, Apokalypsis, a smoldering look at humankind’s search for both peace and freedom from persecution that was inspired by the displacement of refugees worldwide, the two accomplish that by using incredibly propulsive yet technically rigorous movement and a Pandora’s box worth if images that float upon music ranging from John Kusiak and Giuseppe Verdi to traditional folk melodies. The end result is scenes that carry the grainy feel of a black-and white film, or a world that resides behind a veil of smoke and ashes.... The sentiment could have been trite, cliched. But in Noya and Neblett’s hands, it’s anything but. It’s riveting.... At a time when so much in dance both literally and figuratively has no spine, Apokalypsis stands as an original.”
The Boston Globe

"At times the dancers moved very slowly, with their arms raised as if supported by the strings of a puppeteer. At other times they presented fast, dense unison "boogie" phrases that matched the steady eighth notes of Vivaldi. And they also recited the sonnets of Shakespeare with desperation and intensity, proving themselves worthy actors. This was dance-theatre at it's best, with a sensation of acquiescent finality similar to Cocteau's famous film "The Last Testament of Orpheus."
Bay Windows

"Noya's somber 'As I Was...As You Were' began with the two in turn-of-the-century waistcoats, their stately waltz lyrical and mannered. Shedding the coats, however, the relationship took a darker, rawer tone. The two rolled and tumbled with the tightknit closeness of contact improvisation, yet it was clear the movement was carefully crafted. It was as athletically vigorous and sensuous as the first section was contained." — The Boston Herald

"But it was the duet of Diane Arvanites-Noya and Tommy Neblett, both dancers and choreographers of Prometheus Dance, which distilled in the audience the greatest charm. Brilliant technique, fluidity, energy and the power of the bodies compound the elements that make American modern dance meant for the masses as well as for the pleasure of the eye and the spirit."
La Provence, Marseilles

"Descent, for three men, shows the push and pull of opposing wills inside an individual. The trio, in canon and unison and two against one, appear never to disconnect, though they do, now shooting sideways from a single vertical line, now flying one over the other, prone and landing with smack. The men are able to move so fast and so impeccable because they anticipate the beat, making for an intensely musical display of force." — The Boston Globe

"Arvanites-Noya's riveting 'Descent' is a gorgeously fluid yet muscular trio for men that reflects the inner conflict within one personality. There is a dizzying blur of lyrical spins, athletic lifts and leaps, falls and recoveries as the three men split apart time and again, only to reunite in various configurations."
The Boston Herald

"Diane Arvanites-Noya's dark 'Shoot the Moon', framed by streamers and bundles of newspapers, remains one of the choreographer's strongest, most intriguing works. Tommy Neblett is part Messiah, part pariah with a quartet of dancers feeding into an expressionistic atmosphere that reeks of disaffection, desolation and confusion tinged with irony and humor. It's potent, if puzzling stuff theatrically, with powerful, evocative choreography to match." — The Boston Herald

"The heat and light generated by the group's seven explosive yet technically refined performers was nearly enough to warm my way home through the night's subzero temperatures. 'Mango Street', which was inspired by writer Sandra Cisnero's 'The House on Mango Street', combines song, instrumentals, eloquent and witty text, a spare set and clever rhythmic movement in a series of alternately passionate and playful vignettes depicting private moments from a young woman's life." — The Boston Phoenix

"The charged partnerships meld anger to love as each member struggles out of the eye of the storm. Their methods run the gamut: the women guide the bent-over men by their necks, walking them like dogs. They dive over the men's shoulders (or vice versa). They slam into their guts. The men suspend the women above ground their legs by crossing their arms and grasping their wrists; the women tread water helplessly. Arvanvites-Noya excels at group works like these, where a quasi-narrative line brings her theatrical talents to the fore." — The Boston Phoenix

"Arvanites-Noya pulls out all the stops with propulsive ensemble work, partnering where the pairs alternately seem joined at the hip and ready for murder, and an ability to exploit the tightly-wound tension built into the score composed by [her brother-in-law], Miguel Noya. I liked the way the women held bunches of flowers like torches or trophies, and then threw them over their shoulders or at their lovers' heads. An innocent gift brought home from the florist will never seem the same again."
The Boston Globe

"The piece resembled game of musical chairs, but with one crucial difference. In the game, because there are always more people than chairs, the contest to gain chairs has real point. In the dance, however, everyone already possessed a chair. Therefore the battles were needless, wasteful power struggles. The intellectual implications of Ms. Noya's work were as sharp as its movements."
The New York Times

"In this deadly version of musical chairs, all of the world's cynicism and cruelty is revealed, including your own. Because it is not bound to the specifics of one kind of cruelty done to one kind of person, it can reveal your own cruelty - or your own pain." — Bay Windows