Holley goes lightly

What other dancers, former or present, do you go to before asking Cunningham?
Robert is ever-present and very open to questions like that, but also, as an artist, his language tends to reflect Merce’s when we’re all together in the room. I’ve really enjoyed every time a new piece has been set; working with former company members has been so eye-opening to me. Presently, Trish Lent has been in the studio helping us with some things and that has been so satisfying. She has a very keen perception of the work and is able to understand the various systems within it and keep in mind the larger ideas. And she also has a wicked sense of humor, which I rely on a lot. I’m very grateful to her and her presence.

What is she working on?
She’s keeping an eye out. I think they want her to be involved; she came in first on our last session of work and set some sections of Enter on us with the intention of them being used for Event material. We worked for over a week on it, and Merce was just like—I never know what he’s thinking, but it just seemed like he was, “Been there, done that.” We didn’t actually end up incorporating it into Events, but we did show it for part of “History Matters.” She had the notes, she took the time to do the video research and she taught us our parts and it was a wonderful setting. I think she’s working on trying to create something to do with a legacy project: trying to find people who worked with Merce and to get their statements about the dances they did do.

What have been other dances that have stood out to you?
I have to say that they always have stood out to me—and maybe that’s my problem! [Laughs] I have always felt that any time you’re onstage, it is extraordinary. When I was first given soloist roles, I didn’t consider them soloist roles. I was like, “No wait, this is the first duet before the next duet.” It’s being there longer and longer and hearing how people categorize things that has made me feel like, Oh, that was pivotal to me as a performer. I got to do RainForest. And the reconstruction of How to Pass, Kick, Fall and Run—that was also very important. I got to dance with Robert, and Merce was performing the score at the front of the stage with David Vaughan. That was stunning to be able to do that. Crises, of course, was amazing, and Second Hand was wonderful to do. But I think, in the newer pieces, Loose Time was the first time I worked alone with Merce and at a certain point realized it was a solo and felt that special place that we’re lucky if we get to feel—of trust and facility of speaking his language physically, being able to manifest what he says, and to feel a sense of delight from him and for him. That experience was a pleasure almost on an indulgent scale for me. And knowing how rare it is, every time I do the dance, I savor it. Because when you’ve gotten [the material] directly from Merce, and it is a solo that he has allowed choices within? Wow! That’s when you feel like a creative being entirely. Not on the scale that the collaborators are, but as a dancer who has choices to make—you want it to be as superb as you can be.

How did your parts develop after that?
I had Fluid Canvas and some really great dancing. Some really fast trios; in Split Sides, the duet with Daniel [Squire], which was another experience of Merce seeing how far we could go and trusting us with what would happen. And I think those were my times in the sun, and then after that I started being put in parts that were…the RUGs were very involved at that point, and I felt that I was learning the RUG roles. We all were and those were more generic to me. I could look at a section and ask, What is the challenge? It’s fast. It’s all petit allegro. All petit allegro, all the time. And it’s interacting very quickly with other people. So my parts after that were pretty much about short spurts. Energy in small groups. It was funny because I felt that I was at this point getting the teenage roles. That felt ironic to me. But at the same time that Merce wanted me to do them, I felt fine doing them.

It seems like it’s become more advantageous for dancers to be in the RUGs than in the company.
You’re absolutely right. I would say, as dancers, we want to work with Merce, and the company no longer has that direct relationship on such a level as the RUGs do. And I have felt that newest challenge for me and the last challenge, frankly, on a large scale was, How do I get onstage without Merce’s voice? So many of the phrases I’ve learned from Merce, I can still hear him: I know, “And one and two and one.” [Laughs] It doesn’t go out of your mind when Merce teaches it; there’s something that you know you have to hold onto. It’s imperative. And when I am taught by RUGs, I always feel that I have question marks in my mind of what was actually said in the room, how Merce described it to them and what the choices were. I realized I’m already getting secondhand information and so as a dancer I’m not as sure of it. The challenge is performing that. I don’t have the same sense of completeness when I perform those roles.

Was there ever an instance, as a dancer, when you felt everything came together in a performance? That it was close to perfection?
I’ve never had anything perfect happen in performance. One of my most challenging seasons was Lincoln Center 2002. The night before it all began, I wrote to myself, “It won’t be perfect, it will be human.” I had a difficult part to do in Suite for Five and didn’t have a lighting rehearsal. In the beginning of the dance, the woman stands upstage right on one leg in arabesque and sways like a weather vane. Difficult in lights, difficult without lights. When I stood there, seeing everyone in front of me, the huge house, having yet to interpret this dance, the funniest thing happened: Instead of feeling stress, or tightening up, a song came into my head. While I was hearing the spare Cage score, I also heard Leonard Cohen. “Like a bird…on a wire I have tried, in my way to be….” And there, I was, able to dance fully and so aware of everything.

What will you do after Cunningham?
I feel I want to continue dancing for a little while. I think I have an idea—not where, just what. What is maybe the opposite of Merce. Doing something that requires a whole different set of skills would be very interesting to me. And I started teaching at the studio last year. It wasn’t because I was considering retiring, it was because I feel that, for so many years, I’ve been the recipient of such an awful lot of valuable information and I feel like I was constipated with it. This metabolic cycle has to reach its conclusion on some level. And I wanted to start learning how to articulate things to students, and watching other bodies and having that curve start to happen. That’s also what I’m interested in doing.

So the future is up in the air?
I really want it to be. I think that there may be some unexpected things if I don’t become fixed on certain ideas. I think if you look at agriculture, fields have to be fallow for a little while before they can produce a healthy crop. And the next thing I do, I don’t want it to be a response, I want it to be a natural progression—as far as that’s possible in this economy.

Have you spoken to former dancers about all of this?
I think the violent way in which things happened inspired people to rush in—almost, I feel, like the way an immediate friend would counsel you if you’re in grief. And the people I’ve had long working relationships with—every single one of them—have been encouraging to me at a time when I’ve needed it. I’m so grateful and so aware of how I’ve relied on that the last few weeks, to help me to dance.

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