How does the creation of your site-specific choreography come about?
The approach changes depending on the subject or object I’m going to encounter – which may be open or closed, inhabited or uninhabited, and so on. I like to imagine these searches as transitions, encounters, and clashes. I make choices, which are suggested to me by the space in question, by the elements that I decide to bring into play, by my own vision and, subsequently, by that of the public. The body, both mine and that of the public (are they keeping still? are they moving? where and how? what is their point of view? is it changing?), and the sound sources, both natural and musical, are made to interact with the space, guiding the performance, while the time spent in the space opens up other possibilities and forms. It’s a sort of pact between the performer and the spectators: for a certain length of time, we turn the space into a unique, other place. The elements involved in the work for Triennale Decameron were dance, architecture, and cinema. Once we had chosen the space, we decided on the framing, so I had the precise point of view, and I knew it would be a sequence shot, that there would be no camera movement, and that the format would be vertical. We decided not to use music, but we did keep the sound of the space. I built up the dance on the basis of all these elements. Dance creates a shift of volumes with respect to a given structure, and it takes shape together with all of the elements involved. When I ran the video again, as soon as the live broadcast was over, I could hear not just my breathing and my verses, which were very loud due to the reverberation, but also the operator’s breathing and movements. It was quite amazing, and totally unexpected – I loved those unforeseen presences. Spaces are never empty, for there’s always a legacy.