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The ritual begins with the arena darkening as smoke blankets the stage, horror screams erupt, and flashes akin to lightning cross the stage. Four dancers, clad in historical witchy dresses, emerge with eerie, sometimes grotesque movements, until they freeze. Florence surfaces from below the stage; her movements are slow and intentional as she raises her arms, beckoning the audience to join in a communal experience. 

The energy from the crowd is immediately infectious, and it’s clear everybody came prepared for the experience as the audience’s outfits draw inspiration from Florence’s six studio albums. From witches to sirens to vampires, thousands of flower crowns,  and glitter as far as the eye can see. 

Florence + The Machine have been known for their incredible live performances for the last 17 years, but this is the first-ever tour with dancers. The four dancers, Silas Grocott Cain, Belen Leroux, Lea Orož, and Chihiro Kawasaki, known as the Witch Choir, bring the show’s atmosphere to life, balancing more sexual moments with those of fear and rage, as well as more playful ones. Through both Florence Welch’s vision and choreographer Ryan Heffington's work, the show feels more like a ritual or a cleansing than a traditional concert. 

Belen Leroux provides insight into Florence Welch and Heffington’s goals with the choreography. “They wanted to create a very free, explosive space but also dynamic where we as women and witches could be sexy and fun but also dark and scary and full of rage and silly." 

Each dancer's character is different; while there are moments of uniformity in the set, there are also ample opportunities for each dancer to explore their world and their character. Silas Grocott Cain explains their character, “For me it kind of ended up going into quite a rabid, feral kind of place, but also very sensual and evocative.” 

For Lea Orož, strangeness is a key facet of her character. “Making someone uncomfortable in a way that I express is interesting to me because I am tapping something that maybe they aren’t so comfortable seeing within themselves,” Orož explains. “I think we’re all strange, we’re all weird in our own ways, and if we allow that to come out, then that’s just a part of you. Every character that I am is a part of me.” 

Through the dancers and the impactful music, the Everybody Scream tour highlights a femininity that isn’t just one thing–it’s grieving, it’s powerful, it’s scary. Found within it is hope, despair, and most of all, connection. 

For Orož, it’s about “allowing myself to be the parts that maybe I didn’t allow myself to be when I was younger or whatever society expects from us as women. It’s breaking that and just allowing myself to be raw, to be connected to other women, to love other women.” 

From the beginning, with rehearsals, this intentionality was already top of mind. As Grocott Cain explains, “Even from the audition, it was very clear that there was not any set agenda of what this feminine character should look like or be like. It feels very open and evolving and free to be interpreted in any which way you want to.” 

The show opens with ‘Everybody Scream’, the album title track, featuring incredible, infectious energy from the dancers, as the audience's excitement is palpable. A few songs in, ‘Seven Devils,’ the movement becomes much more controlled and ritualistic. The dancers use their faces, lip-syncing the words, showcasing strength, power, and even rage. According to Grocott Cain, the facial choreography throughout the show is a signature of the choreographer, Heffington. 

“I used to be really scared of using my face when I was in training,” Grocott Cain says. “But now I feel so comfortable with it, and I feel so much more open in my body when I’m engaging my face. It’s very freeing.” 

Freedom is a common theme throughout the show. Through ritual, catharsis, and movement, the dancers embody the many facets of what femininity can be, and there is a freedom in that power. 

“I feel like I’ve been given the space to be myself fully, I don’t think I’ve ever had that full freedom before,” Leroux says. “I feel really free in every aspect.” 

In fact, the second-to-last song in the set is titled, 'Free.’ One of the lines in this compelling song is, “for a moment when I’m dancing, I am free.” Florence and the dancers twirl on stage in complete joy, and the audience, in turn, feels free to dance along. 

Grocott Cain explains that there are moments throughout the entire choreography that purposely resist being polished and pretty. However, even in songs (like ‘Free’) where there is more structure or more stereotypical beauty, that’s not all that’s going on. “It’s never a kind of typical sense of trying to seem beautiful, but rather a siren call,” Grocott Cain notes. 

Throughout the show, movement is center stage. In ‘Heaven is Here’, the movements feel almost ceremonial, and at one point, the dancers create a witches' circle. In ‘Howl,’ the energy is explosive and powerful, and it reaches a climax of emotion when the dancers surround Florence, waving their arms. 

There’s also a sense of presence woven throughout the show. As with all concerts, audience members are filming, but compared to many other shows I’ve attended, I was astounded by the sheer number of people putting their phones down and living wholly in the moment. This presence did not just happen out of nowhere; for many years, Florence + The Machine shows have included the ritual of having all audience members put their phones away for the final chorus of ‘Dog Days Are Over.’ 

As Florence tells the audience, “Filming this song will stop you from experiencing this song, and is that not why you came?” 

The dancers also help create the atmosphere of being wholly present. They help embody an energy of freedom from the rest of the world for two hours. “My hope is that through us being present and being honest, that everybody else can feel the same,” Leroux explains. 

Through dancing, tears, and laughter, the show feels safe in a way very few shows with 20,000 people do. It’s impossible to ignore the predominantly female crowd; that’s not to say there aren’t men, but there is a sense of community among other women in a beautiful way. 

As Leroux says, “It feels like it’s really a show for women, honestly. For everyone, of course, but it really feels like a unique space where we can just be, it’s for us, by us, and it’s so beautiful to be a part of.” 

Orož further adds that, “none of this is through the male gaze ever.” 

It’s clear that Florence knows her audience as well. One of the point in the show where the crowd is the loudest is in ‘One of the Greats’ when Florence sings, “It's funny how men don't find power very sexy. So this one's for the ladies. Do I drive you crazy?” 

There’s something special about seeing an artist acknowledge their female fan base in this way. As Amy, a longtime Florence + The Machine fan, explains, “It’s a music style that women love, and it’s about themes that connect to female identity, especially the horrors that come with that.” 

Zoey, a lesbian Florence + The Machine fan, further added that, “at her shows it doesn’t matter if I’m feminine or if I’m masculine or if I’m androgynous, it just matters that I’m there and I’m soaking in the experience, those boundaries and categories seem to fall away.” 

It’s a testament that it’s not just Welch or the dancers who experience freedom at the shows, but the audiences as well.  

“The gift that she [Florence] gives to us is that because she’s so big and so uncompromising with her lyrics and her music, it sort of makes you feel like you can have big emotions,” Amy notes. 

As long as Florence + The Machine has been around, there has been an LGBTQ+ fanbase that has continued to grow over the years. Amy laughs, explaining that while Florence + The Machine is a global artist, a lot of people don’t realize just how lesbian her fanbase is. In fact, many queer fans have met lifelong friends and partners at the shows. Zoey and Amy became best friends, thanks in large part to their shared love of Florence + The Machine. 

It may seem surprising that Florence, an artist who has only spoken about romantic relationships with men, relates so deeply to the queer community. But Zoey explained that, “For people who don’t get to have traditional relationships because of their queerness or their gender or chronic illness or things that are impacting their life, she writes in such a way that’s so much broader that even a song about a relationship you can make about your relationship with yourself. For me, it's my relationship with my chronic illnesses, my relationship with my body, relationship with gender, and friendship too.” 

The love and community fostered in the crowd is felt from the stage. As Grocott Cain said, “You can see that there’s just like an acceptance and everyone is just so excited to be there and sharing in this moment.” 

The show comes to a close with ‘And Love,’ the final song on the ‘Everybody Scream’ album.  I can’t help but think of the lyrics “prayer is a spell" from ‘Perfume and Milk,’ another song on the new record. As Florence sings “peace is coming,” it feels like a prayer, like a spell that she’s desperately willing to come true. As Florence says, “If songs are coming true, let this be the one that comes true.” 

The silence that descends upon the audience through the song's outro is incredible; it’s not awkward or painful, but a moment of communal connection and communal hope. It marks the perfect end to a night of ritual and catharsis.