What was the starting point for âI hunger for youâ?
If I were to put it into one line, it came from my response to what I feel is the rage and the sorrow that we are carrying in our bodies at this moment in time. It doesnât matter what our ideologies are; I think that in our culture, there is so much we carry in our bodies, and how do we deal with those things?
I started with all these questions about religion and faith. Faith is still something very deep in this work, but not faith connected to religion. Itâs bigger than that.
Did those questions have to do with your family?
My siblings and I had, at first, a pretty conservative Catholic upbringing, and then my parents joined an evangelical church. I remember going to these churches and seeing people go into states â speaking in tongues, slaying in the spirit. The power of believing in something changed their bodies.
I wasnât sure what my own belief was. I was just like: âOh! Wow.â Watching people have such deep faith, it imprinted itself on me as this crazy physical phenomenon. Like, how did you do that? How did that happen?
In rehearsal, there was almost a feeling of exorcism.
There is a deep essence of pulse, or what Iâve started to call life force. Itâs a very different place than Iâve ever been with my body or my practice, which is built a lot on restraint.
Youâve collaborated with your husband on many projects. Is that challenging?
Itâs tricky, and at the same time, I donât think I could be with somebody who wasnât deeply involved in my work, because itâs become my whole being. My body wakes him up at night because Iâm trying to figure out a problem, and he feels that energy radiating from me. Heâll sit up and say, âAre you choreographing again?â