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Why I Made is a fortnightly feature in which artists and writers share with listener.co.nz the behind-the-scenes stories of their creations. Here, dancer choreographer Rebecca Jensen talks about her show Slip – and how wrestling is inspiring her new work.
Spending 10 hours a week at dance classes or competitions never bothered the teenaged Rebecca Jensen. She figured dance careers tended to be short, so she should make the most of hers.
But 18 years after she left Auckland to study in Melbourne, she’s still dancing and, says the 36-year-old, has no plans to quit anytime soon. Jensen returns to New Zealand later this month, bringing “home” Slip to the Tempo Dance Festival in Auckland and the Nelson Arts Festival.
Rebecca Jensen, why did you make Slip?
“Because I became fascinated by the art of foley, the cinematic sound effect technique where different objects are used to make things appear more real. So, for example, you might take a pair of gloves and slap them together to enhance the sound of a bird flapping its wings.
I like the kind of confusion this can create; the idea that what’s going on behind the scenes is not necessarily what we’re engaging with. I like the idea, more broadly, as a way to address the complexity of the world we live in and the fact that you can’t take things at face value.
The information we receive can be very confusing. You might be holding a product in your hands, and it says it’s natural or organic or handmade, but you’re never really sure of the processes it’s been through when it gets to you. I wanted to make something about the complex, entangled worlds we live in.
How did you become so interested in foley?
I’m drawn to creating works with humour; I think this has an absurdist element to it. It’s quite funny to hear the sound that comes out of some really unlikely objects, and it’s something that everybody understands because it’s the kind of thing we all play around with as kids.
I found it quite amusing to think about foley artists sitting at their little tables, all mic-ed up and playing a piece of glass. I love the absurdity of that, how something so banal can turn into something quite magical.
How did you make Slip?
It’s a duet. I worked with sound artist Aviva Endean, and we started by creating a bunch of pairs – matching sounds with actions I was doing. From there, we built a sort of looping kind of choreography that slowly gets out of sync with the sounds. That’s also a big theme in Slip, how we are now desynchronised with a lot of things around us, like nature, and fall out of sync with them.
What are the themes you hope audiences reflect on?
There are some explicit references to issues like the climate crisis, which could be one result of us becoming detached from ourselves, each other and the environment. But I hope Slip allows people to think about multiple ideas around the themes of synchrony and disconnection, whether with our histories, the natural environment, our bodies, or each other.
Dance can sometimes be inaccessible. So when I’m making work. I kind of try to set things up in a way where people can understand some concrete things and move from there to something a bit more abstract.
What attracted you to dance?
For me, it is a space where you can be really expressive and simultaneously, direct but also kind of whimsical. I was drawn to the multifacetedness of it, and the space it gives and allows for interpretation. I also just love dancing, the feeling of it.
I started dancing as a child at the Mt Eden Ballet Academy [in Auckland] and then moved to Melbourne when I was 18. I meet 18-year-olds now, think back to myself [at the same age] and I’m like, ‘you were just a baby!’ I had some friends at the Australian Ballet School, and we were all living together, so it was quite exciting.
I had this idea in my head that it was great to dance when you’re young because dance careers are short so I should just do it now, but I’m 36 and don’t intend on quitting dancing anytime soon. I think it’s very important that we see older dancers on stage and the body can do a lot.
What does work look like for you?
I teach dance and I make work, but a huge part of my practice is dancing for other people. It’s really important for me to perform work that’s not my own. I think you learn so much when you don’t have the pressure of being the ‘dramaturgical director’ of something. It’s really nice to just give yourself over and try to realise someone else’s vision.
So, what’s next?
I try to come home twice a year, so I’m looking forward to being back and spending a bit more time here. I’m also working on a project called Embryonic Punch, which involves dancers and professional wrestlers that’s being supported by the Basement Theatre and Arts House Melbourne. I’m constantly interested in the ‘slipperiness’ of performance, like when are you acting and when are you not? I think professional wrestling is rife with that!
Have you watched much professional wrestling?
A little bit. I grew up watching lots of WWF with my brother because I’m a 90s child and it was quite a thing then. I’ve been to a couple of matches and it’s a scene, a full-on scene! I’m kind of enchanted by it, but it does scare the shit out of me. I think the dancers and wrestlers are all a bit in awe of each other; one of the dancers has started going to wrestling training and the wrestlers are up for ‘dancey’ things.
Slip, Q Theatre – Loft, Saturday October 19 and Sunday 20 at 6pm; Nelson Arts Festival, Suter Theatre, Wednesday, October 23 at 6.30pm and Thursday, 24 October at 8pm.
