Holley goes lightly

What did you learn in the Repertory Understudy Group?
I learned a lot. The group, then, was doing roles that, in some way, are harder than those I do now. There’s no hierarchy at all. It was when they were first trying to get the group to perform. Robert Swinston just chose the cream of event material that existed then. In the company, I think there’s an unspoken kind of syllabus—I don’t know if Robert follows it or the teachers instinctively do, but when RUGs go in, they start with Changing Steps material and certain solos. Signals is often used. They’re all about taking a very strong base and using a torso and learning how to cue off each other.I also performed Septet. It had humor in it and alertness and a lot of relevé and moving the torso and being calm about it. I only got to do one performance of that—it was at the High School of Performing Arts. But it was such a great learning experience. Also [former company member] Viola Farber attended. I was so clueless; I thought Merce would have been there, and I was nervous about that. Of course Merce wouldn’t be there! But after the show Viola approached me. She had a very grave way of saying her mind and she said something to me that made me feel it was okay to do this work. I felt I had gotten her approval that night. Ever since, especially when I do Crises… [Her voice chokes up.] I just think that she still approves.

Did you get into the company shortly after that?
Yes. That’s why I only got to perform it once. The woman I replaced was China Laudisio. The company was in Prague, and it was unusual that someone would resign while the company was on tour, but I guess she just decided that it was time for her. She informed Merce, and I got a phone call saying that I was in the company. It wasn’t, “Do you want to be in the company?” I remember Robert saying, “So, you’re in the company,” which now I appreciate. I immediately began to work on those parts, and when she got home we only had seven days together to transfer her material to me. That’s unheard of now. People are lined up months in advance. My premiere was at BAM and my New York swan song, in terms of Merce’s newer piece, will be at BAM too. I’m happy to be able to perform there in New York City again.

What were you performing in the beginning? What stood out?
Scenario. Merce began the piece with China and then halfway through, I was in the piece. I had been in the room when he was creating it, so I knew a lot of the material already. He continued choreographing on me a little bit after that. Scenario was such an event in terms of the collaborative aspect of the company. It seemed so grand to me that Rei Kawakubo and her team came in the studio one day. They had some mock-ups of the costumes. The only question that was asked was, “Is it possible to move with these big down pillows?”

There are times when Merce’s eyes absolutely blaze with excitement and that was definitely one afternoon that stood out in my mind. They were at the front of the room watching us move around. There were some problems, of course—there were some long skirts that had to be accommodated and if you curve into a down pillow you can’t breathe very well.

When we premiered it at BAM, that’s when we heard the music. Takehisa Kosugi did this amazing score that was just otherworldly, and with the white floor and the florescent lighting on top, it just seemed like I had landed in the middle of the most refined and crazy environment. I remember that I received a criticism for smiling and I can see why, but I was enchanted. On a sensory level, I was seeing things I’d never seen before.

What did you wear?
We had two or three costumes. I wore these little biker shorts with bare legs and a sleeveless tunic that had a stomach-shaped lump in the front. My dear friend Maydelle [Fason] wore one—her arm went through a giant inner tube and it also went into the front of her body. She was very valiant in her curving and arching with that on. That night, Scenario wasn’t first on the program; we also did Events, and we literally entered the stage by leap-frogging over each other. I almost bit the dust because I was so excited. My hips went up too high over my head and I almost just ate it. [Laughs] That was my first official moment onstage in the Merce Cunningham Dance Company. I was very excited.

From there, we just started the cycle of Merce creating dances and the experience of coming to France every year and other European countries and domestic touring. We were doing Berkeley every year at that point, and we usually had a New York performance for the first five or six years. We did Lincoln Center and the Joyce and City Center. Merce made Scenario; he made Pond Way, which we did at Paris Opera—it was so exciting—and Biped. The first day of rehearsing it with the lights and the costumes was pretty intense. Maydelle and I cried. When newer dancers come into that, it’s like clockwork: Everyone cries because you can’t see anything and the material is very technically challenging and you’re doing it in the dark sometimes or all of a sudden there’s a light in your face and you don’t know where it’s coming from.

Why were you crying?
Because you realize that you’re probably going to be fighting for your life onstage instead of the other things that you try to do.

I just had to make sure it wasn’t joyful crying.
[Laughs] No. It’s a stress response. Now I’ve learned that it may take a while for those feelings to pass, but they do pass. Even right now, I’m performing Suite for Five and there is such stillness and control in it; the movement is very simple, but you’re very exposed and there can be a panic response related to that. Here in Paris, I performed it last night and there was a very serene feeling. It’s maybe because of knowing I only have it to perform once more. I guess the act of letting go in performance is the highest achievement: When you let go of what you think should be happening, you just can be fully present for what is happening. And then the fear goes away.

I was wondering how it feels for you to be performing these dances right now.
Well, I think that I have had a very hard time dancing in front of Merce since this happened simply because I realize how vulnerable I am. Like an intimacy with someone after the relationship has broken off, it doesn’t feel safe. I’m very aware of not wanting to become distracted or injured, so in the studio I try to be focused to the point where I’m asking myself, “Okay, why am I doing this right now? I’m doing this because I’m going to be performing it soon and I need to be clear and I need to be strong when the performance comes.” So it’s the first time I’m not dancing for Merce’s eyes.

Performing the dances and having my last time or two with them is intensely rewarding. I’ve never saved anything during pieces, and now I find there is more there still. Seeing the faces of my friends onstage, the unexpected sounds from the pit, the feel of my legs and lungs. I’ve collected many images, but this week’s are somewhere else in time. Also, this week, every day off from performing I’ve been teaching my roles. This is part of it too.

Someone asked me the other day, “You’ve always danced for yourself, right Holley?” And I think that’s absolutely true, especially for the performing experience—you can’t really think of who’s watching. I’ve always tried to remain focused on what I’m doing. So now these performances for me are the same as they ever were and yet there are, I feel, a thousand things. What does a dancer always want? You want to have accomplished the best in every second and if it doesn’t happen, how do you feel about that if you’re saying goodbye to a dance? It’s been amazing, the last two or three dances that I’ve said goodbye to in the last month: There is closure. Your relationship with that dance hasn’t ended just because you’re not doing it. It’s not defined by the last time you’ve done it. It’s defined by having done it and having always done it as well as you could.