The Young Associates: John-William Watson and Olive Hardy
Magnus Westwell, John-William Watson, Olive Hardy, Vidya Patel
“It’s those kinds of mundane moments, in the real world, where these thoughts can often live – like when you accidentally go to put the scissors away in the fridge or forget you actually exist whilst waiting for a bus in the rain.”
“For me, I have always been more comfortable expressing myself through the physical and visual worlds and to say the things that can’t be put into words. It is really exciting for me to know how to do this with performance. The work is visceral, intimate and human.”
The Young Associates
John-William Watson and Olive Hardy
WRITTEN BY DAEN PALMA HUSE
PHOTOGRAPHY BY JACK THOMSON
The Young Associates programme at Sadler’s Wells supports talented 18-24-year-olds and 18-30 for d/Deaf and disabled choreographers, providing a crucial first step into their career as choreographers. This exciting second round of the programme has supported John-William Watson and Olive Hardy – we interviewed both for The Protagonist – as well as Vidya Patel and Magnus Westwell. The choreographers worked with Ben Duke as their Artistic Guide to produce the pieces that will now be presented on stage this October. Two young visionaries, John-William Watson and Olive Hardy talked to us about their pieces that will be presented, and we asked them about their aesthetics and aspirations.
John-William, what influences do you draw on in your dance practice?
In regard to influences, there’s not one particular art form but in regards to artistic movements surrealism is a big one. I don’t know whether I’d particularly describe myself as a true surrealist, as I think narrative and the human experience (in a more day-to-day sense) have too much of a focus in my work, but the ethos definitely has a huge influence. There’s something so nonsensical about life, the world around us, and this is a big motivator for me to tell the stories in the way I tell them. Artists like silent film actor Buster Keaton and director/writer Charlie Kaufman are incredibly influential to my work. They are two very different artists in style and era however there’s an awareness in their works of the absurdity of the everyday – and this can not only be beautiful and incredibly touching but it can also be hilarious …and it’s this surreal and often tragic-comedic lens on things that connects all of my influences in some way I think. That existential themes can lie beside the everyday and the mundane not only beautifully and humorously but purposefully. As a result, my work aims to tell the stories around us in the way they are actually presented to us daily, often without sense, or reason.
Tell us about the dance piece you will present at Sadler’s Wells this October.
I’ll be presenting Hang in There, Baby, a new dance theatre work exploring destiny, fate and decision making from the depths of a new year’s office party. It’s an exciting work for me personally and it holds a lot of firsts for me as a maker. It’s the first time I’m collaborating with a composer, the wonderful Adam Vincent Clarke, and the first time I’ve worked with play writing so concretely. The concept and script for this work has been swimming around in my brain, in and around every creative project I’ve been a part of for the past four years or so. I’ve had elements of the narrative ready to go for many years now however, the time just never felt quite right until now. Ironically, the piece I end up making, when I finally feel like it’s the right time, is about fate and not knowing whether it’s the right time to actually do anything in the first place!
John-William Watson
You explore themes around existentialism, the comedy of the mundane, nostalgia and time. Tell us more about this.
Mundane-ness and boringness is sadly a huge part of our lives on this earth. Something that became especially clear to me, during the endless staying-at-home marathons of recent years, was that boringness, aside from being boring, is pretty damn hilarious. Personally, there’s something in those moments of staring-into-space, finger-tapping autopilot that’s so inexplicably connected with the existential. The work I make is often non-chronological and plays with time dilation and dream-like sequences that ruminate on these big-picture themes. It’s those kinds of mundane moments, in the real world, where these thoughts can often live – like when you accidentally go to put the scissors away in the fridge or forget you actually exist whilst waiting for a bus in the rain.
Do you look at particular historic references for your practice?
Not intentionally, when I start a new work for example, but many historic references seem to fold themselves in over time. Paintings, music, films, video games and pop-culture references from a wide variety of eras (from Caravaggio’s use of Chiaroscuro to Steve Carell’s performance in The Office US) seem to seep through my subconscious into the work I create.
We’ll be working on a scene or image for example, and a week later I’ll see it again and sort of frantically scramble on my laptop in the studio to find a reference for where I think the idea originally stemmed from. These kinds of things have been anything from a three second scene from a niche video game, to a motivational poster from the 1980’s I saw in a film one time. In this way the studio feels like a huge kind of sandbox, where anything is possible and everything is welcome; a song, line of text, a facial expression, is all good stuff! It helps to cultivate a feeling of play, of non-judgment in the decision making and of not being precious about anything. This is incredibly helpful and freeing as a maker but for my dancers it also invites them to propose ideas, images, and characters a lot earlier and with more concreteness than a different process might.
About five years ago, you choreographed and performed “If not now, then when?” at the BBC Young Dancer final at Sadler’s Wells. Can you tell us about this performance briefly?
This performance was, if I can remember the timeline correctly, the first piece I ever choreographed. It was out of necessity mainly, having quite a short time frame for the show and not many resources I thought let’s give it a bash – not much thought went into the decision to make it apart from that. It was such a strange process, as something that felt like such a stab in the dark at the time opened up a whole new world and side of myself, I hadn’t really tapped into yet. I was struggling (although I wasn’t aware of it yet) with my mental health at the time and the piece in retrospect was an exploration of that. It’s funny you bring it up, as I recently re-watched it with my partner who’d never seen it, and I could really see two clear ideas. One being that it was about the hardships I was facing at the time, but the second being this kind of self-aware, slapstick sense of humour about the whole ordeal - which is such a staple of my work now. It was, although very different form my work now, the first time I choreographed but also the first time I explored a human experience (my experience) through humour, nostalgia and movement.
In what way did this piece set a foundation for yourself and your choreographic practice?
It gave me confidence and affirmation that my way of moving had value and was “interesting” for use of a better word. I was dealing with some major self-confidence issues at the time, regarding myself as a dancer in comparison to my peers, but that piece instilled a little seed of trust in myself and my characteristics as it were. From that point, although mainly only in my bedroom, I began to dance and play with the movement and ideas that I was interested in; to the detriment of house mate and friend Beth who lived below me. At some point along the line, that bedroom exploration has snowballed into a movement practice that I now teach and a choreographic approach that I now use within my work.
What does it mean to you to now perform as part of the Young Associates at Sadler’s Wells?
It means a lot to myself now of course but I think it means even more to my younger self (I’m not going to bring out the baby photos). I was first introduced to Sadler’s Wells at fifteen years old as I was auditioning for the National Youth Dance Company, England’s flagship youth dance company based at Sadler’s Wells. Since then, from going through NYDC, BBC Young Dancer and now Young Associates it has become a home almost. So, without getting too Billy Elliot on you, to be able to now work there professionally is something that I feel very privileged to be able to do; and something that little John-William growing up in Leeds would only have dreamt of.
How has growing up in Leeds influenced you?
I think saying things how they are. This question brought one thing to mind and that’s “Call a spade a spade.” Growing up in Leeds, growing up working class there’s a very specific type of practicality, a particular type of no-nonsense humour that I think has really influenced me – particularly from my parents. They are some of the kindest, warmest and hilariously no-nonsense people I know. My work is surreal, and often existential but it’s set in these very normal everyday situations with a strong sense of humour behind it. I think this thread between these elements is something that has developed from my background, my family and being a northern artist.
What is your aim as a choreographer to show within your piece this time around at Sadler’s Wells?
Aside from the themes of the work, and the narrative itself (this is a spoiler free zone don’t worry) I just want to show who I am, right now. I want to show my sense of humour, I want to say what I want to say of course but I think there’s more of a focus for me on showing how I want to say what I want to say at the moment. The themes and narratives I explore feel known to me, and I trust these and the thread between them to present themselves over time, however one thing that is constantly shifting and I’m always pushing the boundaries of is my style, and I’m incredibly excited to share this in October.
You mention freedom at the same time as having had support. What do you value most when you speak about freedom – is that to develop your dance technically and/or conceptually, or to be able to concentrate on dance full time or anything else?
I think you’ve hit the nail on the head, there is complete freedom to develop your practice and you work how you choose. Physically and conceptually, they mould the programme to what serves us. This is rare and an incredibly nourishing structure to grow within. To be able to concentrate on dance full time is a huge benefit, as so much of the work is accumulative or at least within my work it feels like this. So, at this stage in my career to have the opportunity to constantly move forward step by step, towards your next artistic venture is incredibly beneficial. I feel grateful to be able to do this and as all freelance artists experience, but especially working-class artists, the financial pressure is a very real presence and can be inhibiting and overwhelming. So having a programme that alleviates some of that pressure of “what’s the next gig” for young artists is so valuable.
Over the past years, how have you interacted and grown with the other Young Associates together?
Personally speaking, I think we’ve all somehow solidified each other’s artistic visions. It’s quite difficult, especially in the real beginning as a maker, to give your own ideas worth - but seeing the diversity of voices within the programme and the value in all of them has aided in turning that value inwards. With us being only four this is heightened even more, and we’ve gained an insight into each other’s worlds, viewpoints and desires as artists. It’s an intimate, bespoke programme and because of this, the ways and speed in which we learn from one another has far exceeded anything I imagined in the beginning.
Do you work in other mediums besides dance?
I don’t, however, I’ve always had the desire to. There was a moment several years ago, as I was training in Belgium where I was thinking about myself as an artist, in dance, where I thought should I have studied film?! Since that slightly panicky moment all those years ago, of thinking that I’ve taken the wrong turn in the road, I’ve slowly infused the work I make with everything I love about film. That being said, I was commissioned as part of the Young Associate programme to make a short-film, an artist portrait, in 2021 and as far as first-times go it felt incredibly natural, organic and very well aligned with the way I work for stage. It would be incredibly interesting to see how my work sits within a more long-form film context.
What do you have planned for the future, what do you wish to achieve?
I have some really fun stuff, a lot of making planned which is exactly what I want to be doing at the moment; playing and creating as much as possible. I had a great chat with Belgian-Moroccan Choreographer, Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui last year. Something that came up was the importance of making as much as you can because you enjoy the process, because you enjoy the unknown and enjoy the play; this is something I’m really connecting with at the moment. Without trying to sound intentionally mysterious (as artists often do), I can’t really talk about my specific plans yet, but I’ve got some very exciting things in the pipe line, some big opportunities to play, create and share my work with more people; so keep your eyes peeled!
Thank you very much!
Olive Hardy
Olive, what influences do you draw on in your dance practice?
I am currently influenced by practices and pieces of work that are structured and improvised.
I performed in Samir Kennedy’s choreography a few years ago, he created a very clear world and landscape that we as performers existed in and that the dancers could explore within the limitations he set. This allowed me to see choreography in another lens and has influenced the worlds I now create. We now work together too; he has created the sound for the piece I am premiering at Sadler’s Wells next week. I have also been mentored by independent artist and performer Leah Marojević for the last few years. Her knowledge and wisdom in making improvised work has been really encouraging and insightful whilst dealing with the delicate fine tuning of making something that isn’t set and organised with clear material. I also hold the work of Michael Keegan-Dolan and Pina Bausch with high regard, in their ways of seeing the individuals on stage performing the work, which really moves me.
Tell us about the dance piece you will present at Sadler’s Wells this October.
I am presenting a 20-minute dance piece And I know nothing again once more, where the audience witness five dancers work through the labour of existing within a world that is ever changing. They are responding in real time by improvising inside a structure and specific physical states. Throughout the work they each carry and handle a bundled object in which there is an individual physical and emotive response to the materiality of these objects as they relate to them in different ways. There is no ending with this work, we see a window into their world, which has started before we arrive, and will continue after we leave. Samir Kennedy has created the atmospheric soundscape for the work, and I’ve been collaborating with Costume Designer India Ayles. We’re really excited to share what we have been working on together.
Over the past years, how have you interacted and grown with the other Young Associates together?
We have spent a lot of time together whilst being Young Associates, and some of this is due to the pandemic. We were speaking online when things felt quite unstable which was very supportive during this time. I feel like we got to know each other quite well. It’s been really interesting to have an insight into their processes of making choreography and ways of working. We all explore different ideas and worlds, and it doesn’t always feel possible to hear of the processes choreographers creatively go through. This has been really interesting and intimate to be involved in. It’s been special to see us all develop, and I’m excited to see this continue in the years to come.
You previously mentioned that you have really honed in on your creative voice during your time in the Young Associates programme at Sadler’s Wells and that you have gained more ownership of this voice. What is most important to you in terms of the voice that you have and how do you wish to utilise this voice when it comes to communicating with an audience?
For me, I have always been more comfortable expressing myself through the physical and visual worlds and to say the things that can’t be put into words. It is really exciting for me to know how to do this with performance. The work is visceral, intimate and human. It’s about contact, expression, being capable of feeling our way through, not knowing all of the answers and being able to relate to one another. Things I feel aren’t separate, but that are universal. This has been said before, but making choreography is a set of decisions, honing in on my creative voice means I feel that I can make decisions that drive the work in certain ways.
Following from the previous question - on a level that is focused more inwards to yourself as a person, creative and dancer - what is your personal “state of bliss” when engaging in projects such as the one that you are presenting now? Is it that you may enter a flow state when dancing, or enjoying the physical preparations, the conceptual thinking and bouncing ideas off other creatives…?
I love it when there is a breakthrough with a certain instruction that the dancers are working with, which clarifies the intention for them and shifts the reading of the work. I also experience a state of bliss when we organise the scores in different ways, and there is always a turning point when all the fractured ideas start to click and piece together and make sense. This is really special.
Do you work in other mediums besides dance?
My main practice is within movement and dance, but my processes are always collaborative. I like to work with artists who work with other mediums such as, sculpture, fine art, photography and costume. I’m interested in continuing to work with more mediums and finding ways to integrate movement and performance within other artist’s work.
What are some of the key influences to you, either historical or contemporary – whether from dance or outside of this particular practice?
Diane Arbus, Wolfgang Tillman, and Francesca Woodman’s intimate photographs have remained as something I always return to. I love Martin Margiela’s way of deconstructing and reconstructing his creations within fashion and Maya Deren’s arthouse dance films.
Are there any written or any static visual works that have influenced you over the years?
A few books I’ve been influenced by: A field guide to getting lost by Rebecca Solnit, All About Love by Bell Hooks, The Reactor by Nick Blackburn.
When you speak of “collective agency between the meetings of people” that you work with, what do you mean exactly? How does that drive your work?
We work collaboratively in the studio. I like to hold space for the people I’m working with to be able to contribute and respond to the work with their ideas. It’s what they bring to the process and how they meet the work which brings it all to life. In terms of working with collaborators, it’s rare I come in with a fully formed idea, instead we shift and respond accordingly to what the work is becoming. It’s really process driven.
How has growing up in Bristol influenced you?
I feel really lucky to have grown up in Bristol, it’s a pedestrian friendly city, so we had a lot of freedom in my adolescence. I grew up with a big community of varying ages, who were creatively driven and making in a variety of mediums. I’m still connected to those people, and we still have conversations to sound board, bounce and interrogate ideas with each other, which has been hugely supportive. These are connections I hold close to my heart, and I know will stay with me for a long time.
Tell us one anecdote or something you have experienced in your life so far that has had an impact on you as a creative thinker – this does not have to relate to your profession.
I remember me and my dad siting at the dinner table, or anywhere we were together in fact, and we would talk for hours about ideas. It was purely about imagining what could be possible, for talking about ideas for ideas sake whatever the project. It was his passion to keep up the making, no matter what the context. This has created a long-lasting impact on me.
What do you have planned for the future, what do you wish to achieve?
I plan to continue to develop my practice, to keep learning, collaborating and to witness my ideas grow, transform and respond to the context at hand. I wish to be in this world of making and performing for as long as I can.
Thank you very much!
Magnus Westwell, Olive Hardy, John-William Watson, Vidya Patel
Olive Hardy and John-William Watson can be seen at Sadler’s Wells, Young Associates/Ben Duke – To Start With, 26th October 2022. For more information and to book tickets visit www.sadlerswells.com/whats-on/young-associates-ben-duke-to-start-with/