A Conversation with Annie-B Parson - TORCHES: 30+ Years of Downtown Performance
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Annie B. Parson describes her entry into the downtown performance scene not as a calculated career move, but as an inevitable inheritance where every dance ever created resides within our bodies. Initially drawn to the experimental nature of downtown work over traditional modernism, she sought a doorway into choreography that reflected the dynamic world around us. For Parson, the true joy in her practice lies in those rare, generative moments where an idea seems almost illegible in her mind until it finds form through language, objects, or mathematical equations, only to come alive through a muscular feedback loop with performers. This collaborative intensity was central to her long-standing ensemble, where she never auditioned anyone, allowing the group to develop a shared, arcane language of movement, text, song, and light that functioned as a unified entity before the landscape of performance shifted.
As the nature of her company evolved and new people entered the fold, Parson's process transformed from an intense, internal tennis match with her ensemble into a more didactic approach where she teaches material to dancers individually or alongside associate choreographers. She notes that while this shift changes the texture of the work, making it perhaps less embodied by the performers in the initial stages, it allows for a different kind of exploration. Parson also reflects on how institutions and physical spaces dictate her art; large venues with their "tyrannical" architecture force her to be mindful and generative within those constraints, whereas working outdoors revealed the profound support nature offers as a collaborator. She argues that there is no neutral space in performance, as every environment—from the black box to an outdoor field—brings its own personality, neighborhood context, and acoustic qualities that fundamentally alter the choreography.
Parson challenges conventional definitions of dance and choreography, asserting that steps are merely material within a broader organization of the body in space, time, tonality, and muscularity. She explains that music often serves as her starting point, acting as a foundation upon which she builds form before sometimes erasing the original score to create something new, much like how she treats text. This method allows her to layer meanings and emotions without being bound by the initial source material. Furthermore, she addresses the economic realities of dance, suggesting that American Puritanism has historically devalued the body and dance as spiritual acts, leading to lower pay scales compared to other performing arts. However, she advocates for a craft-based ethos where compensation is distributed fairly based on the specific labor and load of each role, ensuring that artists are valued for their contribution regardless of the genre or venue scale.
Ultimately, Parson views her practice as a living process rather than a job, deeply influenced by her background in ballet and postmodernism but constantly shedding those skins to find new expressions. She acknowledges that while the specific spirit of downtown may have faded into a gray area, the energy of New York City itself remains an endless collaborator that feeds inspiration through its diverse culture and people. Her work continues to be defined by a commitment to craft, where she embraces the slow, generative nature of creation and trusts that the reciprocal partnership between artist, venue, and audience is essential for sustaining experimental practices. Even as she ages and her interests shift away from certain historical obsessions like German folk songs, the core of her practice remains rooted in the belief that we are all repairing and developing an inheritance of movement that exists unconsciously within us.
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I think that every dance that's ever
been danced
is in our bodies.
>> It's an inheritance of a sort. I don't
really know how to think about it any
other way.
>> Mhm.
>> Um,
and I think it's pretty unconscious.
Welcome back, friends. I'm Kristen
Martin and this is Torches. Today we
have the innovative Annie B. Parson.
Annie B is a choreographer and artistic
director of the award-winning Big Dance
Theater. She's made choreography for
rock shows, marching bands, movies,
museums, objects, TV, augmented reality,
opera, ballet, theater, orchestras, and
10,00 amateur singers. I'm excited to
hear what Annie has to say today.
Welcome.
>> Thank you, Kristen.
>> Yay. So, how did you come to be in
downtown Performance?
>> There was nowhere else to go. I mean, I
didn't know of any other landscape to
work in. I just landed in New York and
you know took ballet
>> and in ballet class I met people and
that's what everybody where everybody
worked. Um and it was sort of a it was
almost like a I don't know the word farm
comes up in my mind of you know young
dancers that are growing and we were all
very very dedicated to our training. Um,
and then on the sixth day of class,
after class, we would rest just like in
the Bible. But after class, we would
always talk about, "What are you
singing? What are you singing? What are
you singing?" And the only thing I knew
about was downtown work.
>> Mhm.
>> So, it wasn't until I got a job um at a
dance publishing um venue that I started
to see Uptown work. And it wasn't my
thing,
>> right? So it also has to do with your
sensibility like what are you attracted
to sing and I was definitely attracted
to the experiment.
>> Yes. And what about the experiment? What
drew you in?
>> I think that I
wanted to figure out my own doorway into
choreography and was sort of over or not
interested in modernism that dance
presented. So like Taylor and so on and
I liked the idea of how did the dice
roll in this and literally also but in
this in this framework of creating
movement uh everything from like also I
had I was a painting major in college.
So I really came from this perspective
of you know like what did the Dist how
did they create material you know that
you're in a dynamic world and your work
should reflect that.
>> What is a joy moment in your work?
What's a moment of real joy? You know,
it's a funny word because it's a very
overused word right now. And I feel like
>> there's a part of me that rejects the
idea that
>> that's the
that there's focus there somehow that it
was very workmanlike
>> making work. And even now like um the
pleasure I would say is when you have
some sort of
generative thought that seems really
almost illeible in your mind
>> and then you find some form some
language some object some
you know mathematical equation could be
anything image and you share it with
performers.
and it comes to life in a very
generative way between you
>> that provides a huge burst of excitement
in me.
>> You know, that's the gold is that pass
back and forth that's very muscular and
it's rare. For a really long time, my
company was a real ensemble, I guess, in
the sense that I never auditioned
anybody. I always used the same people
over and over and over and over again.
And so that uh feedback loop between us
was quite arcane,
you know, like who would have even
understood what the hell we were talking
about in rehearsal or moving or didn't
talk at all most of the time. um in our
relationship
that I think that we as a group held
between movement and uh text and song
>> and object and light
>> and clothes like that was very much a
shared language with us like I could say
I want to be sad today we're going to
put our clothes on backwards and
everybody would know what I meant right
>> you know it wasn't like somebody's
looking at me like oh I don't know you
of course it Sounds strange.
>> Mhm.
>> Um, but as soon as that world ended,
which was I had it for a really really
long time, but it's I don't have it
anymore. Then the
>> the relationship is different. So you
find your happiness in other ways, I
think.
>> And that community of artists, you're
talking about Paul, your long term, and
still work with and Cindy Hopkins. Yes.
And Jenny Mary and Molly.
>> Yeah. Molly Hickok, Timberly Canali,
Stacy Dawson.
>> Yes. Courtney Rutherford.
>> Uh that was sort of you know this very
core group that we had and some others a
few others.
>> And how do you feel the texture of the
work has changed and evolved as you've
adjusted had performers change had new
people come in and out of the group?
>> My process has changed completely
because if I don't have that like really
intense tennis match with the performers
instead I'm bringing things I'm teaching
things. Um, and that's a very different
process. I'm alone working on my own and
then I have a period where I work with
my associate choreographer Elizabeth
Dement and then we teach material to the
performers. It's completely different.
>> Yeah.
>> It's also really cool.
>> It's just very very different.
>> Is it different to for you to generate
material in a studio by yourself? Is
that isolating or do you find the energy
there in a different way than you used
to? Um,
I'm not really sure. It's It's okay.
>> It It's just different material because
they have It's less embodied by the
performers.
>> It's more coming from me and my
virtuosity is not I'm not like a great
dancer, you know, virtuosic dancer. Mh.
>> So, I think the material tends to be
simpler
>> than it used to be, but I'm not sure
because then sometimes, you know, like I
work at the Met a lot and I hire dancers
that are extremely virtuosic. So, I have
in mind what they can do
>> and then I Yeah. So, it's I don't I
don't really know how to answer that
actually.
>> Okay.
>> Because it's it's just different.
>> Yeah.
>> Yeah. Um, you've spoken about your art
making as part of our everyday lives and
our political life. Is that a core value
in your work?
>> Um, I'm bad with like core value stuff
because I don't really think like that.
I want to think like that, but I don't
really know how to, honestly.
>> Um, it's more like I'm thinking about
movement, material, and form. And the
forms themselves I feel like have a
resonance for me that has not to use too
big a word but has um a sort of a
spiritual value to me.
>> Mhm.
>> Um the political is logos. It's the
rational mind. It's um almost like you
know I keep kosher like milk and meat.
>> Mhm. So if something is political,
[clears throat] it's political because
it came that way. Like I'll give an
example. Like um I made a piece not that
long a no in 21 called the mood room.
The mood Room uh was based on a script
that was written by a performance artist
in the 80s who died of AIDS. uh his name
was Gita Quante
>> and he wrote this script about Los
Angeles and what was happening in Los
Angeles in the se right on the cusp of
Reaganism. So it was the end of the 70s
early 80s he wrote it
>> and basically he reflects what he sees.
Um the there's no there's no critique
within the text. It's not a script like
that and that's why I was attracted to
it. It just is.
>> They don't finish their sentences. They
completely obsess about their own
healths health uh what um Nietze called
the neurosis of health. They you know
>> only eat health food. They only you know
have very specific herbs. They have
psychiatrists and you know it's
ridiculous. Their lives are ridiculous.
They are
>> and he pulled from the three sisters for
that. Right.
>> He sort of did. He calls he called it
the five sisters. So he totally does
except for there's no quotes from
Czechov.
>> Great. So I think he in his mind is
referencing it but believe me I scoured
it for because he quotes he grabs from a
lot of plays in that but there's no
checkup in it strangely just [laughter]
the title and that it's sisters it's
five sisters
>> right
>> so it's becomes a very political piece
>> um because it reflects to me what was
the beginning of the end which was
Reagan who said shop
>> that was his directive as a it was the
and of being a citizen. So the citizen
body is shoppers, is consumers, is the
capitalist society. And I felt like this
script, you know, did I realize it when
I picked it? I don't know. It just is a
political piece, but it's not, you know,
you know, one of those PE adap,
>> right?
>> Or you know, let's pretend we're a
family who is having a political moment
and discussing this issue. No, it's the
opposite. It's what Chaplan did. He
showed it.
>> Mhm.
>> He danced it.
>> Yeah.
>> Beautiful. In that piece, you made it
just before CO or just after CO?
>> I made it during CO.
>> Okay. [laughter]
>> Well, I I started it before CO.
>> Mhm. But my first workshop was February
of 2020
>> and then I stupidly continued to work on
it [laughter] because that was everyone
else stopped except for me for some
reason and Pavle. [laughter]
>> Great. Um and and then that piece was
paused for a little while but then you
brought it back like to the Walker I
think.
>> It went to BAM and then we had a pause
and then it went to the Walker. Yeah.
>> And you've done a lot of things at the
Walker over the years. I this is a total
aside. How do you find the audience
there as opposed to a New York audience?
Do you feel like there's a different
vibe?
>> No, it's a great question because we do
need to think of theater on a national
scale even though we're very
impoverished nationally with theater.
[clears throat and cough]
>> The Walker has been a wonderful
wonderful friend to big dance theater.
Mhm.
>> Um I
I don't really
know what to say about the audience
except for to say that they are open,
they are engaged, they've been very well
trained by Philip Bther and the Walker.
So they see, you know, 10 15 pieces a
year that are national and
international. And Philip's uh Philip
Bther's curation is such that he's like
a hawk. So he smells it from far away
and he brings it. So they have seen you
know his audience uh is really really
beautifully versed in avancard theater.
>> Mhm.
>> Uh so I love them. They don't sit like
this like New Yorkers. They sit like
this. [laughter]
There's a receptivity.
>> Yeah I would say so. Yeah.
>> Um let's see. Uh you've worked a lot
with David Burn. you've done a lot of
projects and one of the things that he
said about your work that he sees is the
quotidian made extraordinary and the
familiar made foreign. I feel like you
were alluding a little bit to that in
the way that you were speaking about
your making process. Is it does do you
find that a relevant statement to how
you see your own work?
>> You know, I did come from the from I
drank the the holy water from
postmodernism.
my teacher. I I had two teachers that
were very very significant to me. One
was Robert Ellis Dunn
>> who uh actually this week is being um
thought about by the kitchen. But Robert
Ellis Dunn was the teacher of the
Judsons.
>> So he didn't believe in authorship. Uh
he thought it was like nasty and
ego-driven because he's a 60s guy. And
so he sort of erased himself from the
history books unfortunately. But he
taught all those. He taught Ivonne. He
taught Trisha. He taught them. And he
came from music. He was the pianist for
the Cunningham company. And he was tight
with Cage. So he took all those ideas of
cages and he uh
>> reinterpreted them into choreographic
form. Um and that was the holy water
that I drank from
>> but mixed with ballet too, right?
>> Yeah. But the thing was about ballet
which is which was just true. I mean
this is just a fact is that ballet was
the secret sauce.
Uh there it's sort of like Meisner with
theater. Nobody talks about the training
but you know it's there. You can't do
this work without ballet. Then the work
that was happening
>> and what was going on at dance theater
workshop for instance the virtuosity of
those bodies in space if they were
walking across the floor if they were
lying in the floor it didn't matter
those were ballet trained people
>> right
>> we didn't talk about it I think the
Cunningham dancers all study ballet even
though Mars completely rejected it but
needed it
>> you know so it's underneath
>> and Pina Bosch certainly absolutely
total ballet training
>> she wasn't a postmodernist
>> so But still, yes, absolutely. And so
when I hear the words quotidian,
absolutely that was the stuff that was
the material
>> was to walk, to step, to sit, to roll,
to crawl,
>> to cross. The simplest verbs and yet
from a formal perspective, it was not
simple.
>> What was up? I mean, if you could see
the forms that Robert Ellis was giving
us to work on, uh, it was like a really
hard math problem. So, uh, we
So, yeah, and I think David also, you
know, that's what he was brought up on
too
>> in a sense. I mean, would he agree with
that statement? Uh, I mean, he was the
one that went into CBGBs and said, "I
want the fluorescents, turn off the
theater lights." Right? you know, I
mean, he definitely was in that mode
when he started
>> of the quotidian.
>> And when you're making your work, is the
music a starting place? Is the movement
for you?
>> Oh, for me? No. Uh, the music I I was a
sound designer, so the music is the
starting point. I shouldn't say no
because yes in that I won't work on a
script or a piece unless I have music in
mind.
>> So like if I'm going to work on
something and if I can hear music then
>> I feel like I can do it. If I'm going to
work on something and I don't relate to
the music, if it comes with music, it's
like a job. It's a musical and I don't
relate to the music. I know I won't be
successful.
>> Mhm.
>> Uh because I don't know how to relate to
that kind of music. I actually don't
even have the training to do that. Um
but I have also in my own work made so
many pieces based on Stravinsky but then
I would erase Stravinsky. So I don't
think I only made one piece where I kept
the music of Stravinsky. So often the
music is underneath the comp but it's
the complication of the form
>> of the music and the emotion.
So meaning you create the whole work
working with the music, but then you
take the music out.
>> Yeah. And now put something else in.
>> There's a new phrase of music there, but
the choreographic phrase stays. So
there's a layering and a and a building
that you're doing.
>> Yeah. So absolutely. Yeah. And then when
I'm working with
>> um Oh, well, when I work with David or
music artists, I always work from the
music first,
>> right?
>> Yeah, definitely. Mhm.
>> I put it on and I dance literally. I
mean, it's that simple.
>> And if sometimes what happens with my
dance is
>> it doesn't look like dance, but it's my
that's [laughter] what I think I'm
doing. So [gasps]
>> great. Well, that's a funny question.
You know, how how do we define dance?
Because there's such a spectrum. Yeah.
Across cultures, across time.
>> Choreography is not steps. Steps are
material within choreography
or sometimes there's no steps. Uh
choreography is the body in space. It is
the organization, the aesthetic and the
intentional organization of the body in
space
>> over time.
>> Time we need to reckon with it because
it exists.
>> And choreographers do all sorts of stuff
to erase slow uh play with time. Sure.
Um but for me personally time is an
element
like emotion and line and you know I
think another we could also say you know
the definition of choreography is the
aesthetic and intentional organization
of the body and space and time.
>> We sure could.
>> And then dance is
the action the material of that
aesthetic decision. My definition of
dance is probably a lot wider than mo
most people like I think we're doing a
dance right now and our dance is
determined you know it has a lot of
elements of choreography
>> so for instance we are sitting roughly
2 feet apart
um we're doing that because the camera
was set up in a particular way
um and that determined the proximity of
our body in space Um, then we have space
all around us, but the camera is only
only capturing some of that space, but
we're experiencing a lot more space than
than the camera is capturing, right? And
then and some of it is the space over
our heads, which is very charged and
it's infinite perhaps depending on how
you feel. Um and then also in
choreography, one of the most absolutely
important aspects of it is tonality and
muscularity. So we have a particular
muscularity right now.
>> You might feel more relaxed than me. I'm
not sure but your body might be a little
bit get feeling gravity a little bit
more and that may be because you're more
relaxed. I don't know why or you just
feel it. I feel like I'm a little this
way and you're a little that way
choreographically and we could switch
right now, right? And kind of do that
and you could do that. I mean, that
would be a choreographic directive.
>> Um, and then uh
it all is it's all held by our
muscularity,
>> you know. So, and then we're doing a
dance also of conversation
and we have certain pauses and silences
and rhythm and
um
that we are determining we didn't know
we were going to have we didn't say
beforehand
count to five after I ask you a
question. No.
>> And now you're nodding your head. So
this aspect of your upper spine is
moving and so on and so I mean I could
go on and on and on. You know what I
mean? Like [laughter]
so my definition of dance is pretty
wide.
>> Yes. I love it. Thank you. Thank you for
sharing that. Um you've spoken about the
body holding everything and the
intensity of the choreographers's
relationship to that holding. Can you
share what that means to you?
>> Oh um okay. Well,
I think that every dance that's ever
been danced
is in our bodies.
>> It's an inheritance of a sort.
Um, and
there's no new material. Basically,
we're just repairing,
developing,
mending, playing with, you know, all the
things that you do when you make
something.
I don't I don't really know how to think
about it any other way.
>> Um,
and I think it's pretty unconscious.
>> Does that answer the question?
>> Yeah, I think so.
>> Also, your family and your relationships
and, you know, all those things
>> and the architecture
>> and the day that you brought with you.
Yes.
>> Exactly. Yeah. Um,
how about institutions? You've worked
across different genres and at different
scales, downtown, uptown, across town.
How do those contexts affect the art
that you make?
>> Well, there's two parts to that. The
institution has an architecture itself,
>> a physical architecture.
>> And when I'm working in a very large
scale space, it's very bossy these
rooms. Now, I'm just talking about me
and the room. I'm not talking about
people.
>> So, you know, a lot of these rooms have
a real sort of tyrannical precenium.
Um, and they have thousands of seats and
they have giant television screens, you
know, and all this stuff. So, it does
affect what I make. It has to. I I want
to be
um conscious, mindful, generative, and
embrace the room that I work in,
>> you know. So, there's that. And then the
institution itself of course some of
them just have you know countless toms
of of rules and expectations and
limitations and everything but I have
been lucky enough to work with people
artists in those rooms. I am not the
lead artist. I'm working for an artist
in the very big institutions.
Um and so I've been lucky enough to work
with artists that have a lot of power.
And so nobody's telling me to change
anything.
>> Mhm.
>> When I when it's my company, Big Dance,
and I'm like, bam, that kind of
institution, those are friends, those
are family, and uh they've been
extraordinary,
you know, extraordinary partners.
>> And is there a different kind of of
freedom that you feel or you you find a
freedom that you enjoy in all these
different contexts?
>> I'm really bad. I just don't bother
about it. Great. [laughter]
That's must be very liberating.
>> I I just don't even think about it,
>> right?
>> I can only make what I make.
>> If it gets thrown out, I'm cool,
>> right?
>> I can keep it. I can't tell you how much
material that's been cut in, you know,
now we're talking about job jobs, but
I'm still me working at it.
>> And you know, the the word we'd have to
bring up in that kind of thing where I'm
not working with my own company and it's
my idea that I'm making is craft. So,
you know, I'm a great believer in craft
and I think craft is is
not uh
you know, something that
you just learn, you know, it grows
>> and it's a good friend.
So like when you're in a situation
[clears throat]
where the job is extremely stressful
and you know
you don't know what you're doing
but you have your craft.
>> Mhm.
>> So you understand
>> it's your foundation.
>> It's your foundation you know and it's
not it's I just go back to it over and
over and over again and then from there
hopefully something
>> happens. Does the craft give you the
freedom to take as much risk in those
like large contexts as when you're
working within your own?
>> It gives you more freedom because you
well not more than my own company, but
it it allows you freedom because it
gives you roots. When I choreographed
American Utopia, I didn't know how the
piece should begin. And uh
I thought, well, maybe David should sit
at a little table and he should be all
the way upstage. This is craft because
it has to do with proximity.
>> Mhm.
>> So where is he going to be on stage?
He's I think he should be far away
because the ubiquitous rockar spot is
down center and they never leave.
>> And David Burn has been obviously
breaking that rule for a long time. I
thought, well, let me place the singer
all the way as far from the audience as
possible. And then we had these chains
that line the stage. And I asked if they
could be on the ground. And throughout
the first song, could the truss pull
them up for the entire song in slow
motion? What is going on there? Big
things and little things. Period. That
is craft.
>> Mhm. I'm setting large scale material
against small scale material. Now,
nobody's going to look at that and go,
"Oh, she's dealing with proximity and
scale." They're going to go, "Oh, wow.
That's cool. I [laughter] can hear the
song." Or, "He [snorts] looks great."
You know what I mean? Nobody, you know,
but I'm saying it's just an example of
how can I use the elements of
choreography
to
support
this song period.
>> And that was a really stunning opening.
That moment was really compelling and it
just it opened us into the theatric it
invited us into the theatrical world.
>> Yeah.
>> So,
>> how do you think institutions can better
honor experimental practices? especially
that resists commodification.
>> Yeah. Well, I mean that's that's a
softball, Kristen. [laughter]
[gasps] Um there's this very unsexy
aspect of making work. It's called
rehearsal.
[laughter]
And uh one time I had the honor of
working at the National Theater in
London and I think they give their
artists 10 or 12 weeks of rehearsal.
>> Oh, what an incredible gift.
>> Yeah. And we get three and a half.
>> So it shows.
>> Yeah.
>> Yeah. It shows in the work. So uh what
can they do? They can actually
understand what our process is and that
it's a slow cook and choreography is a
particularly slow form.
Um we choreographers sit in an alert
stillness for hours. a dance, a
two-minute dance that I recently made
for a musician took me months. Like,
this stuff does not come fast. Once in a
while, like the o like the opening of
American Topia, once I thought of that
idea
and I was going back to dancing to the
music, that was the dance. I did get
that idea from I'm dancing to this,
>> you know. But anyway, yeah, institutions
if they if they came and really watched
what we do, they would see that our
process
is probably as slow as fundraising for
that piece was. [laughter]
>> Yeah, because that piece was in
development for a number of years,
right?
>> Oh, you mean American?
>> Yeah. No. Uh, we had it on the road for
a year.
>> Okay.
>> It was a rock and roll show, right?
>> Yeah. But my work with David was
it was I worked with him for so long
that a lot of that work you could say it
was for years because
>> it was it was additive. Exactly. And
some of the songs I had already
choreographed for other shows and stuff.
>> Mhm.
>> Yeah.
>> Why do you think that dance is outside
of the marketplace and that dance
artists accept being paid than less than
other performing artists? This is such a
issue in our field. The reason that I
think dances out of the marketplace is
and that has its pros and cons um is
because
and this is totally subjective. I think
that we're Puritans. Americans are
Puritans and they don't like the body.
[laughter] In fact, they disallowed
dancing on Sundays because, you know,
they don't see it as a spiritual act
like most cultures do see it as a
spiritual act. Um and dancing is very
much a part of religion but not here in
America. So I that's my you know
personal opinion. Um and so we don't
want to pay for it. It doesn't have any
currency.
Well that's just changed so much. They
don't accept less. Um they would they're
quite demanding actually for pay now. uh
as they should be. Um they're they have
not been able to g uh still get as much
as you know musicians.
>> Um on the other hand, they're getting
there and they're asking for a lot and
the the budget doesn't you know we're
not the presenters are not giving us as
much money as they would for rock and
roll band. So there's not as much to
share. But um in my company um my ethos
always was that we would share whatever
we would get and divide it um among us.
>> And
you know they accepted that because
that's all there was.
But now that's not true. If I they
wouldn't accept that. No.
>> Mhm. Yeah. I've been working um in a
budgetary way where everyone's at the
same hourly, but you acknowledge the
different amounts of labor that people
put in. So, it's not most favored
nations in the old sense. Yeah.
>> Where it was like everyone got paid the
same, but it's that you acknowledge, oh,
this show has 25 costumes, so the
costume designer's load is heavier than
the video designer who's doing something
much simpler. Yeah.
>> So, they should be compensated more
because they have a heavier load. So,
that's what I've been working towards.
And and I found that people really
understand that and that seems fair to
them.
>> Yeah.
Um you um think a lot about place. Um
what do you what do you what is the
relationship between place and
performance for you? You talked a little
bit about the architecture before when
you were like the architecture of this
room or what those stages do. Yeah.
>> Um
>> is there and and the opening of American
Utopia. Are there other ways that you
think about place and performance?
>> Well, I just had the opportunity to to
choreograph something outdoors and
really it was the first really large
scale piece I'd made outdoors
>> and that sort of blew my mind visav
space and place. I asked that we could
start the performance at dusk lighting
design by God and it was so golden and
it was in the summer in the country. I
never wanted to return to a precenium
ever again because [laughter] I was
getting so much theatrical
support from mother nature and she's the
mistress.
>> So uh she and I were very tight
>> and um we were on really doing a good
dance. Um and then I but then once I did
that I felt like everything like I
there were so many places that you could
make dance like I went or that
everything sort of became dance in this
kind of way for a while like in that I
saw the horse races and that place you
know with its oval stage and the s the
sound score of the hoofs coming and
going and
Sometimes it rains and you know it
really like sort of blew my mind about
what I was hearing and seeing for a
while
and then you know I came back into the
precinium cuz that's where people want
to see their stuff. I think it's weird.
I think preceniums are really really
weird after I spent time collaborating
with mother nature. Um,
it's more like the black box, you know.
It's like, okay, sure. You know, no,
really. I mean, there's some like notion
that it erases the world and you I think
that's what it's about. And you create a
world in this sort of neutral space, but
there's no neutral space.
>> Yes. Every space has its own
personality. and it has the neighborhood
that you brought in with it and the
ticket price and you know like whatever
it is and who's sitting next to you and
where you're sitting and how you're
sitting. Um, and
and also like I was just talking to a
friend who makes opera and I'm working
on Vagner right now, which is like a
very strange monster to be fighting
with. And and she said, you know, if I
sit on the floor, she said, maybe you
should sit on the floor when you're
listening to Vagner because I'm really
struggling with the music.
She said, the music sounds different
when you sit on the floor. And I tried
it and she was absolutely right. And
then I thought um oh and she also said
that she tries to get presenters
to get the let the audience sit on the
floor and get rid of the seats but so
far they have not allowed this. Um but
then I thought of all the great
traditions in music where the musicians
sit on the floor and the audience sits
on the floor. I mean since the beginning
of time.
>> Mhm.
>> We came up with this [laughter]
you know and it does change how you hear
>> and it changes the room and it changes
your relationship to the work.
>> And which Vagnner are you working on?
>> Tristan.
>> Oh wonderful.
>> Yeah.
>> And that'll be for the Met or you
>> for the Met. Yeah.
>> Great.
>> No, it's the next big dance piece. Just
kidding. [laughter] That'd be crazy.
>> It wouldn't surprise me.
>> I know. We just don't have that. I mean
that the the field is so different now.
>> I could I mean I feel like back in the
day that wouldn't have been such a crazy
question but now I there's no you know
the the environment is very very
different in terms of imagining a new
piece and finding the support and the
venue and all that.
>> Yeah absolutely. Um you've said that New
York is always a teacher to you. Is it
also a collaborator?
>> Oh
>> you just talked about nature. You talked
about nature as your collaborator. Yeah.
I mean, New York is endless. I mean, the
reason we put up with it, the reason we
agree to have, you know, less
um comfort.
>> Mhm.
>> Um, and the reason we agree to carry
heavy loads of things through the
subways in order to get our stuff to
rehearsal and all that stuff, we agree
because we're being fed from this
glorious beast called New York. And
yeah, I mean I I Where else are you
going to have this much inspiration
coming at you?
>> Yeah. And on that point, do you think
the spirit of downtown is still here? It
still exists?
>> No.
>> Okay.
>> No, not not at the moment. I don't say
it as a final
>> right
>> thing. I I feel like something will
change, but I do think we're in a gray
area. Mhm.
>> Um, and I think if I were to make a
dance about it, it would be like an oily
gray puddle.
>> Um, it's very, it feels in process,
which makes sense.
Um, throughout history, there's always
been these periods when there's giant
change.
Uh, that art isn't quite art yet. Um,
it's still extremely important. Uh but I
do think I think it's yeah we're also
shedding we're shedding postmodernism
>> you know uh we've seen enough of you
know minimalist music to you know
white t-shirts and sweatpants in walking
and stopping
it had you know 70 years
uh because I mean really Cunningham
started in 4849 9.
>> Yeah.
>> Where he sort of took away the idea of
pretend.
>> Mhm.
>> And he said, I think it was in 1948, he
said, you know, we give ourselves away
at every moment. Why pretend? Not his
not a direct quote.
>> Yeah.
>> Uh so we've been thinking about this for
a long time. And I do think it's time to
to shed it.
>> Um
um knowing that as we shed it, we it's
still in our bodies, you know, which is
good. And the energy of New York that
you find so is not from the spirit of
downtown. It's from the energy of the
city and the people. Yeah.
>> And the vibrancy of culture.
>> Yeah. Like
>> I came here on the subway. I looked
around.
>> Everyone had a cool outfit.
>> I mean, they just did. And they were all
different. You do not see that in most
cities, [clears throat and cough]
you know, like crazy good thinking
around imaginative clothes,
>> right? you know, and I was like, "Yeah,
I like I really like it here." You know,
it shows a very imaginative culture.
>> We are an island off the country of the
United States of America,
>> you know.
>> Why is the art not doing that? Or did
you not say that it's not the art that's
doing that?
>> It's it's it's doing it. It just doesn't
have any support and it doesn't really
know what it is. So, it's figuring out
what to wear, I think.
>> Yeah.
>> Love it. um you as you're making work
that resonates with you personally,
how do you think the audience is going
to find their connection to what you're
making?
>> I have never and I don't feel good about
this, but I literally have never thought
about the audience.
>> Awesome. Never occurred to me. And and I
have heard people talk about, you know,
that they're making work for a
particular audience and stuff.
It just it's not in my brain. Is access
to resources changing your work?
>> Yes, definitely. The resources I I I
would like to say that the most
important resource resources is the
reciprocal partnership with a venue.
>> Um I
I started my company with Molly Hickok
and we always agreed that we needed
reciprocity in order to make something.
And that could be that, you know,
somebody said, "Here's $10. Make a dance
in my living room." Anything. That's
what that we considered a feedback loop.
But we were never going to walk in a
studio and say, and I don't think this
is a bad thing. I know a lot of people
do this. And I think it's great. It's
just for me,
>> I need to know that somebody is saying,
"I want that." And I'm saying, "I want
to do that. I want that contract. I want
that agreement that [clears throat]
they're going to do. get the audience,
provide the room, whatever the room is,
and I'm going to make something and I
that is an energy loop and I need a
feedback loop when I make things and the
other feedback loop which is and some
someday an audience will come in and at
the end of the piece they'll stand and
they'll leave and they'll have shifted
slightly and that framework that form is
very much necessary for me to make
things and that has changed.
>> Did big dance did you used to start
ideas of things before you had
commissioners or never? So you always
have made things knowing I'm doing it
for this theater at this time
>> and this date
>> and I'm growing towards that
>> and you're still working that way
>> awesome. You talked about how your
practice evolved when you went from your
original company members to a new crop
of dancers in all different contexts
that you're working with. But how do you
think your your your practice has
changed as you've aged or as you think
about how the work goes forward in this
time? Is there a difference?
The the velocity and the scale of the
work I was making. I look at it and I
kind of can't believe it.
>> Um
does that mean I couldn't do it again if
somebody gave me that opportunity?
Um I don't know. I think I could
um I don't think of
making work as a job. It's living.
So I don't think it ends. Um but I do
know that it changes a lot. Like I know
that when I was young I was completely
completely interested in kit.
This is because I grew up with you know
I grew up in the shadow of the Holocaust
>> and I was very very like interested in
what became of Germany. Uh and my
parents did not want me to ever go to
Germany.
And I could see all this kit coming out
of Germany and the in the music in the
clothes and all this stuff. And uh with
not in any intellectual way, I just used
it in my work. I used a lot of German
folk songs that had been Americanized or
American
um
pop music that were sung in German. I
used braids. Braids. Braids. Later
hosen. I didn't even think about it.
Like I just
it doesn't it's not something I'm
interested in anymore. And not like I
don't think it's cool. It's just I did
that for a really long time. Um and it
was very
um I can't even explain it now why I did
it.
>> I tried to, but it wasn't a real good
explanation.
>> Um also was interested in irony and that
that absolutely endures.
Um, I think Uripides is probably the
greatest playwright I've ever read. Um,
because of the way he uses irony and the
way he uses irony in relation to
emotion.
All those things like they're still
there, but they're different. I don't
know. I guess I can't really answer the
question.
>> And on that, you work a lot with text as
a way as an entry point into the
choreographic world
>> sometimes.
>> Uhhuh.
>> Yeah. And how does it how does it inform
the movement that you make and the ideas
that you're wrestling with?
>> I mean, like in the mood room, we talked
about the mood room. I had the text
first.
>> Mhm.
>> But I still made dances first. We didn't
say anything for a long time in
rehearsal and then I put the text in,
but the text definitely informed it. Um,
I was very involved with the music of
Holly Hurnen, which is AI generated from
like 10 years ago and I had a big
investment in the music. So, I was
really working very directly with the
music and the text came later,
but it was there. It was in my mind what
these people were saying to each other.
>> And do you ever erase the text the same
way you talked about scoring something
and erasing the music? Do you ever use
text and then erase it?
>> Yeah, I do. I do.
Um, and then also like, um, you know,
it's just that I've used text in so many
ways, it's such a hard question to
answer. Like, you know, I've done two
Ianesco pieces, but and there's tons of
checkup in my work underneath it, erased
or sometimes there, still there. Uh, I
don't know. I'm just like very loose
when it comes to text. I have to say I
have a lot of found text. I've done a
lot with inspirational speeches from
insurance salesmen and you know I mean I
don't know I don't and a lot I mean we
did a whole period where Paul would
secretly tape his auditions and we would
use those tapes in ear. I mean that was
like 20 years ago we did a lot of pieces
with that material.
Um
and now for the piece I'm making right
now
um I'm using text. it came very late.
Um, and I often it's from Zwig like
early 20th century but then I use a
poetic form to change it which I almost
always do with text is I change it with
poetic forms. So in this case I'm using
the form of redundancy.
Um,
so I'm choreographing the text in a
sense.
>> Interesting.
>> Yeah. And do you ever do you ever when
you do that do you go like oh that
wasn't the form maybe I need to try like
substitute trying no
>> once I mean I don't know why I just
never have done that. [laughter]
>> And is there an idea that starts you in
response to a text or it's really the
musicality or the movement of the text
itself that knocks you that pulls you
in?
>> Everything all yes and no. And I mean
I've worked with so many different techs
and I've I walk in so many different
doors. the front door, the back door,
the side door, the attic, the basement,
you name it. Through the window, I mean,
late, early, you know, it depends what
I'm doing.
>> And when you go through that first door,
do you then decide this isn't so
interesting. I'm going to try this way
now. Is that when you or
>> probably Yeah. Uhhuh. Cool. Um, what it
what do you wish you'd known starting
out? When we made work, when we started
in Big Dance, the the ethos was that you
left everything outside the door and you
walked in rehearsal,
the workmanlike attitude was so intense,
the discipline was so intense, and it
shows in the work.
>> There's just no question. Um and
that idea that you cried in the bathroom
and all that kind of stuff.
Um you know
it also has its pro serious problems.
So, I think that we're a group of people
in a very creative mode and we're using
our bodies and that took a long time to
sort of sink in. But all that is in
conjunction with what is going on in
everyone's personal life.
>> Has that ever um led you to overstepping
in a way that you wish you hadn't? Um, I
just think that I don't like that. I
don't know. But, uh, I don't like
personally I like making material, but I
don't like being the boss. It's a flawed
arrangement,
and yet it's a very beautiful, dynamic,
deep arrangement that most people will
never have in their lives, you know.
>> So, it's all those things.
>> Yeah.
>> It's complicated. It's very
>> sounds simple but not it is complicated.
>> Yeah.
>> Is there anything that you'd want to
share that we haven't talked about?
>> No, I think that's good. Thank you,
Kristen.
>> Thank you. It's a pleasure.
>> Thank you. Thank you so much for doing
this.
>> Uh thanks to Hal Round for hosting us
and please come back for more of
Torches.
Touch.
Ooh.
[music]
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