Flow State: How The Daloy Dance Company Tells Stories Through Movement

Daloy Dance Company is a Manila-based collective of dancers grounded in expression and communication. Drawing from classical ballet, theater arts, street dance, and other movement traditions, the group crafts choreographies that inspire conversations about relevant issues around identity, power, gender, ecology, and contemporary Filipino life.

The company began as a passion project of founder and artistic director Ea Torrado. Trained rigorously in classical ballet from the age of seven at the Effie Nanz School of Ballet, she later earned a scholarship to Ballet Manila’s school and became a company member at just 16. With dance at the core of everything she does, Ea’s career thrived, performing soloist and principal roles with Ballet Manila and Ballet Philippines.

But ballerinas are also infamous for having short careers; principal roles in performances can be thrust upon outstanding dancers as young as 17, and by their early 30s, most dancers assume the roles of choreographers, teachers, or retire completely. 

When Ea was in her early 20s, she yearned for a career outside the regimented measures of classical ballet. “I wanted to do my own work,” she shares in an interview. “And I want to move in ways that are more organic and authentic to me.”

The transition into contemporary dance was difficult at first, but looking back, she’s glad she made it early on because it gave her room to explore other themes, grow as a dancer, and confront harsh realities she set aside growing up. Eventually, this path led to the creation of her own dance company.

When Ea started the company, she wasn’t interested in building a “brand” that freezes dance into a fixed style. “I wanted a practice that could move with life: bodies changing, politics changing, grief and joy arriving, communities shifting,” she shares.  “Daloy holds that, and more importantly, it also honors a very Filipino intelligence: we know how to adapt, improvise, survive, and still make beauty.

Flow isn’t “soft” confirmatory energy. "Sometimes it’s a current, a refusal, a flood,” Ea declares proudly.

Daloy channels this energy into all their performances and subverts the idea that views dance merely as a form of entertainment. A few weeks ago, one of their more recent pieces, the Brown Madonna, was staged to celebrate the opening of Ayala Foundation's Kontempo – Center for Contemporary Art at Circuit Makati. For this performance, Ea took Filipino festival and feminine pageant tropes and fashioned them into a statement that reaffirms mothers, women, and queer people’s celebrations. In 2024’s piece called ItikLandia, the company fused the traditional Itik-itik with contemporary movement and devised theater to interrogate gentrification, development, and humanity’s relationship with land.

There are countless other performances, each with its own message, all equally an opportunity to showcase how movement can speak to audiences and impart messages without words. Daloy speaks hard truths through movement—an ethos that pulses through their body of work.

Bringing these performances to life is both emotionally and physically demanding for the crew. So, huddles where they check in on each other (and check out after wrapping up) have become a routine for every one of their performances. This culture of care isn’t just for show; in fact, it mirrors the very way Daloy builds the choreography: collaboratively.

Unlike classical ballet where a single choreographer serves as a maestro, molding the ballerinas like clay, Daloy’s body of work is formed through dialogue, improvisation, and a show of vulnerability among the members.

“When I talk about how I feel with people who won’t judge me, I feel safe to just be and move as I am,” says senior member Julienne Depatillo.

Julienne first caught a glimpse of Daloy in 2016, when the company performed Banyuhay at the Aliw Theater. “It was so new. It was different from what I usually see. I wanted to do that,” she said to herself then. 

And when she passed their auditions and became a full-fledged member, she realized that she had much to learn and unlearn coming from her classical ballet roots.  Julienne describes breaking through the muscle memory of rigid lines and structure as a relief that opened up the possibilities of what her body can do. She became more open to playing and co-creating with the company over time

This is exactly what Ea had hoped the dancers would go through in Daloy: “I wanted everyone to come into our choreographies playing. That matters so much to me because more interesting work comes out of it. This is the relational aspect that happens when you create in a collaborative way.”

Similarly, Julienne likes to think of movement as a language. Ballet is the first one she learned, and each move she executes is a word that, when strung together with other moves, forms a movement phrase. Other members of the company, in this case, speak different languages of dance: they began with krumping, jazz, street dance, and even theatre performance. “Pero kahit nga pareho kayong street dance or pareho kayong ballet, iba din ng experiences,” Julienne explains. “So now, nakaka-open lang siya ng horizons, ng mata, ng puso kapag nag-uusap-usap or gumagalaw. And parang nakaka-develop siya nung practice ng presence talaga.”

This diversity fuels their unique approach to choreography and fosters a culture of being present in the moment and aware of one another. Clearly, Daloy is more than just a troupe; it's an ecosystem of dancers and ideas.

The company operates on a rotating roster of dancers, many of whom move in and out as careers evolve. Some original members now work elsewhere in the Philippines or abroad. Yet departure does not mean severance.

“Alumni are always welcome back because Daloy is an ecosystem, not a closed circle,” Torrado says. “‘Daloy’ means flow — people leave, grow, and return when the timing is right.”

This openness encourages many to return to lead workshops and mentor new members—keeping the company’s spirit fluid, collaborative, and ever-evolving.

Take Jan Lloyd Celecio, who has been with the troupe since 2016. Most of his time is spent at sea, where he works as a cruise performer for a Norwegian cruise line, but when he's on land, he settles back into his role at Daloy as if no time has passed.

“Daloy will always be my forever home,” he says.

What keeps him coming back is growth. "Ea gives so many pointers and tips. Each rehearsal is an amazing process for the dancers, so we can pull off a beautiful performance even if the rehearsal takes only two or three days," Celecio reflects.

That culture of growth is intentional. Ea underscores that while the company holds itself to a standard of excellence, it has always been grounded in care.

Looking ahead, Ea believes the company’s biggest challenges are no longer about starting out, but about sustaining and scaling without losing its soul. Contemporary dance in the Philippines, she notes, is brimming with talent yet remains structurally precarious.

For Daloy, their early struggles may have centered on funding, finding space and time to practice, and feeling a sense of legitimacy within the industry, but now, as the company evolves as a group, so have the problems and doubts.

“Growth introduces a new kind of pressure: governance, legal structures, partnerships, long-term planning, and the emotional labor of leadership,” Ea reflects.

Now the questions are: How do we build systems that protect artists? How do we pay people fairly and consistently? How do we expand training and touring while keeping our practice rooted — embodied, ethical, and alive?” she adds.

Ea sees Daloy growing in practice, platforms, and protection in the coming years. More than being known for their ability to create technical yet creative statements sans words, she wants their company to be a space where beginners can enter, and professional artists can still be challenged.

And so recently, they held auditions for new members, keeping things fresh and allowing them to continue learning and bettering their craft. Senior members like Julienne, Brian, and CJ, who were once dancers learning to be in tune with Daloy’s flow, are now assuming the role of mentors for a new generation of the company.

“If Daloy is flow, then the next chapter," says Ea, "is about directing that flow—toward longevity, toward community, toward world-class work that still feels human."