Kylie Walters: Interview with the choreographer of The Chinaski Sessions (Full Text)

Much as I hate using a format like this - my stupid question, the artist's generous response - I do like to put out the complete version of interviews. Partially so that the artist doesn't think I have wasted their time - it's clear how much work goes into this - and partially so it is evident who much I adapt their answers to  follow my own insidious agenda. 

This is an interview with Kylie Walters. She choreographed The Chinaski Sessions  for David Hughes Dance. See it this weekend...

GKV:The most obvious question is why Bukowski? What attracted you to him as the foundation for the piece?

Bukowski's writing comes from a very masculine perspective, some would even say a misogynistic perspective. That interested me, firstly in the obvious sense that I was a woman working with an all male cast but also as a poetic analogy for the  phenomena that  heavy rock music often has a predominantly male audience and the dance world a predominately female following. 

That social cleavage already creates a tension. I'd read Women by Bukowski and was blown away by the way in which Bukowski draws you into his shambolic, alcohol fuelled and yet highly creative world. You are admirative, disgusted and fascinated in turns. The Chinaski Sessions plays on this. The band, their mates and hangers on are all male, there are no women in the room. This theatrical foundation provides the stamping ground for a range of male, and sometimes "cock rock" behaviour, be it testosterone fuelled spurts of energy, the simple joys of a bunch of guys hanging out together, the lethargy coupled with brewing aggression or the primitive urge to compete and egg one another on. 

Imagine a young, 7 headed Chinaski today, who has some funky moves and listens to rock rather than classical music. 

How far do you use the poetry or stories? From reading the release it appears that you are using chinaski more as a starting point to look at masculinity...

 I've taken the Chinaski reference merely as a springboard to explore masculine behaviour in a rock context. The piece is inspired more by the atmosphere of Chinaski's flat  rather than the poetry or stories of Bukowski per se. I do not see the point in "adapting" such a strong work. 

The name "Chinaski" in itself speaks to me on a musical level. It has a  percussive  and muscular ring to it,  which sits  with the emphasis I have put on the live rock music in the show by Belgian band I Love Sarah. 

How far is it possible to find new ground to discuss masculinity? Plenty has been said and danced...

Yes!  What interests me here is that  all this male energy is used and channelled to create something - rock. Something about the chemistry of hanging out and playing together spurs on a creative act. It's almost a ritualistic playing out of masculinity in order to access that creative territory. So I see it more through anthropological eyes  than it being pseudo psychological exploration of masculinity. 

Whether that is a fresh perspective or not it throws up questions for me in terms of creative process. How do men function and create in a group situation? Does a certain setting affect the style of what comes out in the end? This fascinates me. When a band locks themselves away in a cabin in the woods to record or decides to record in their bedroom, or in a castle it has to have an impact. If they eat pizza or macrobiotic food it has an impact. The flavours are going to be different.

How do you work with the band? At what point did they become part of the process?

I am a fan of I Love Sarah -  their music, their presence, their humour. I'd already worked with Jeroen Stevens (ILS drummer)  and something clicked and we knew we wanted to work  together again. I have pretty much based the piece on the band, so they were in the mix right from the beginning. We started out in a bar in Brussels, discussing what their place would be in the work and we all felt comfortable with that. 

I reassured them I would not make them dance! I'd already heard the band play live  so was familiar with their music and "stage style" which is informal, chatty and then BAMM. We selected songs which I felt served the work best and then together we tweaked them. They were very open to adding to and even changing the structure of some of their well known songs. A few songs in there are new material for them and one is created specially for the show. 

Time constraints dictated this approach. If we had 3 months to work on the piece I think we would have written all the music from scratch. The set order is not at all what they would normally play so it's a challenge for them to set up the loops in time and also to interact with some of the rhythms which the dancers add. 2 weeks into the process they came in and then spent 4 weeks in the studio with us.

 Apart from shaping the music for the piece and also integrating the presence of 5 other guys banging on their cymbals and destroying their cables, the band have quite a lot of text and stage activities to perform in the show. This is pretty new for them. They are an integral part of the show - not just the live musicians off on the side accompanying the action. I think this really pulls the show out of the realm of your standard rock gig or dance piece with live music. That took a lot of rehearsing - how to negotiate not only the music but also the physical, scenographic space for both the dancers and  musicians!

What was your route to becoming a choreographer and what keeps you doing it?

I have been choreographing ever since I can remember. I'm a very physical person. On the most basic level I guess I  see things choreographically. In the street, the cadence of people walking in time, the weird symmetry of a bus pulling up and a cloud passing by in the opposite direction, the movement of a crowd when they start head banging in unison at a concert. 

The way someone holds their drink and leans in to say something in a conversation. I've been involved  as a  dancer, actress and musician in many shows, most of which implied creating material rather than interpreting material. I  make pieces. I never think of making a "dance" piece, "theatre" piece or "music" piece. Choreography today is such a huge realm. You construct movement, you direct, you create a world.  That makes it exciting for me. I am often on the edge of what is considered dance. It's the ideas that keep me going,  and then finding the best means to express those ideas kicks in. 

Choreography is one of the tools I have in my bag to do that. If I think the idea will be better served by music or text - I will use it. Choreography has a lot to do with communicating your ideas well to a group of people, be they the lighting designer, the composer or the dancers. I really love the hands on reality of that.   

Idiocy

I think I might have a bit of a problem. Over the past six months, I have been trying to document the excitement and diversity of the theatre scene in Glasgow. I make the odd trip out into other arts - there ought to be a bit more visual art, and I am getting over-excited about  music again - but the generosity and interest of the performance community is what sustains my writing. 

But I have been looking back over my recent interviews. I have a habit of getting hold of really interesting artists, and then asking them about my own personal obsessions. 

Here's an example: Orla O'Loughlin is the artistic director of the Traverse. This venerable institution - the book of critical theory I got out of Oxfam mentions it as the home of The Fringe - has supported new writing since the 1960s. O'Loughlin is just presenting her first production. So, here's my interview question.

GKV:  Can I ask if you feel that critics can be a dynamic part of the debate not around theatre itself but the way theatre engages in wider discussion?

Never mind that you are bringing back an author who has demonstrated that Doric is a viable theatrical language, Orla. Let's not waste time with any chat about whether you are continuing the Traverse's proud tradition of cultivating new scripts. O'Loughlin did reply though, with considerable grace.

OOL: Of course, critics are a vital part of the debate about the way theatre engages in a wider social discussion. The very nature of their role is to publicly and regularly go on record with their opinions. Theatre, and in particular new writing and new work, is inextricably bound up with what it means to be alive in these times. A contemporary view is being expressed or explored. A voice is being heard. An experience shared. A question being asked. As such, theatre is a political art form. not least because it invites debate. And the critics are charged with professionally taking that on and as we've seen in Scotland recently that opinion has extended to include not only the politics inherent in the work being made but who has the power to decide who should make work in the first place and how it should be funded.

I think that this proves two things. First of all, if I ask an idiotic, self-regarding question, directors are more than willing to give me a sensible, measured reply. That says more about their generosity than my ability to ask incisive questions. Have you noticed how most of my writing avoids including my questions?

Secondly, Orla O'Loughlin has made a  very precise challenge to me, as a critic. I have a responsibility to engage seriously with the work and the broader consequences. And I just wanted my ego stroked.

Next piece of evidence for the prosecution: an interview with David Hughes' choreographer for The Chinaski Sessions. Kylie Walters became an instant art crush for me about half way through the conversation - and I really ought to put up the whole transcript on-line. However, here's the stunningly original question I managed at the end.

GKV: What was your route to becoming a choreographer and what keeps you doing it?

Hold the front page! Vile's found the diamond cutter of a question! Either that, or he found a "how-to-interview-an-artist" guide for idiots. But once again, the artist is able to fashion an interesting reply.

KylieWalters: On the most basic level I guess I  see things choreographically. In the street, the cadence of people walking in time, the weird symmetry of a bus pulling up and a cloud passing by in the opposite direction, the movement of a crowd when they start head banging in unison at a concert. The way someone holds their drink and leans in to say something in a conversation. I never think of making a "dance" piece, "theatre" piece or "music" piece. It's the ideas that keep me going, and then finding the best means to express those ideas kicks in. Choreography is one of the tools I have in my bag to do that.

Walters subverts the question elegantly, deconstructing my laziness and reminding me that I am just doing that "putting people into boxes" routine.

Luckily, some artists know how to deal with me. We end with a few words from David Hughes.I kick off with a blistering question.

GKV: But finally- what can an audience expect this time?"
David Hughes: This time an audience can expect a full on evening of in your face, relentless testosterone, you get to the end and go ‘what was that!’

If you don’t like the dance, you’ll love the music. If you don’t like the music, you’ll love the dance. If you hate it all Gareth Vile will run down the street nude- or, as a registered charity, we’ll accept donations for him not to!

Orla O'Loughlin directs The Artist Man and the Mother Woman @ Traverse until Nov 17

David Hughes Dance present The Chinaski Sessions @ The Arches 9, 10 Nov