Holly Blakey wants to make you feel something

“I hope the work makes you feel,” says Holly Blakey. The London-based choreographer is discussing her upcoming showcase at the Southbank Centre, A Wound with Teeth & Phantom. The dual work is a raw and emotional recollection of two significant traumas in Blakey’s life — or, rather, the recollection of one trauma and the embodied failure to remember the other. Though dealing with these specific events — namely a pandemic-based miscarriage and a stint at a mental facility as a child — A Wound with Teeth & Phantom, Blakey says, is “about all of us”. As is characteristic of the choreographer’s work, the emotions arising from her shows are universally applicable. From the joy displayed in the routine Blakey came up with for Rosalía to the frenzy seen in Florence + The Machine’s “Delilah” (for which the choreographer won a UK MVA award), Blakey’s work is all about one concept anyone can tap into if they’re brave enough — honesty. 

You’ve choreographed for loads of stars and received several accolades for your work. What’s the biggest standout moment in your career so far?

I think doing the Royal festival Hall with CPMA. We had a twenty-piece string orchestra in full Westwood bridal gowns performing a shrieking scratch tone on the stage — the musicians walked slowly forwards and pushed the dancers off the stage. It was emotional for me. That and [working with] Rosalía. 

Your style fuses social and folk dance — where does the fascination with these genres come from?

I love to ponder on why we dance at all — why on earth we hear music and desire to move. When we come together and join as a group there’s a real innocence and beauty to this, and a real sense of humour, too. This togetherness and potential lead me here — lead me to this fascination.

You’re about to bring two more of your works to the Southbank Centre. Can you tell us about the story behind A Wound With Teeth & Phantom?

I made Phantom in the thick of the pandemic. It was a commission from London Contemporary Dance School’s touring company, Edge. I walked into the room and the floor was taped into squares so no one could pass over their box to remain at a distance. They were all totally masked. We’d never met and I was having a miscarriage. I couldn’t express more how that present moment decided on what happened next and how we came to Phantom. The birth of something that never arrives — a fertility dance.

With A Wound With Teeth, it initially began as a commission to do some research with Manchester International Festival. What I love about them is they don’t just want you to make a work in London and take it there — they want you to engage with the community, the space and authentically develop the ideas in Manchester. Well, my only experience of Manchester was being hospitalised in a mental facility as a child. I decided, as with Phantom, to lean in, to see what might arrive. But I realised I had almost no memory of that time. I couldn’t remember how old I was, how long I was there, I couldn’t really remember why. I wondered if there lay the site of potential — a well to dig from. I unearthed a lot of very difficult information, received all my medical history, my notes, events I couldn’t and still can’t remember. I spoke with staff from the hospital, patients I was in there with. Before I knew it, I crashed and felt very poorly. What a blessing it was to have my body forget for me. And so, I decided to fail. I wanted to present my failures instead, let that be the idea. In a world of generating and achieving, just present the parts that fall apart. So I’ve written a nursery rhyme. A childlike crass nursery rhyme for healing, and for all of our little stories and monsters to share to try and better understand each other. 

How do you combine dark themes with such beautiful choreography?

I never worry too much about how it looks — beautiful, sad, clean, messy or what have you. I just try to complete the idea. I just try to be honest.

How do you balance bringing personal trauma into your work with managing your own mental health?

Therapy!

What was it like for you to bring these performances into the world during their Paris debut?

I just feel full of love and gratitude.

Are there any particularly poignant or favourite moments of yours in A Wound With Teeth & Phantom?

How vulnerable the dancers have let themselves be.

How are you feeling about bringing the show to the Southbank Centre? What can audiences expect?

I hope the work makes you feel. It really is about all of us. I want to feel a union, in all the mess and perversion and enormity and painful littleness of it all. I have shown all of my works for my entire career at the Southbank Centre. I love the kids congregating in the children’s library, the dancers rehearsing by the mirrors in the basement foyer, where the world’s best orchestras perform, where the mothers feed their babies over coffee in the ballroom as a group, the radical artists and exhibitions, the views of the water. I love it there.

Are there any future projects or hopes you’d like to share with us?

Next year comes Lo, the larger work A Wound With Teeth sits inside, with more monsters, more set and some mad stunts I’ve never tried before! My son titled the work and has been a massive influence on how the story unfolds. I also hope to take time to rest and be with them, drink coffee and watch cartoons.

Holly Blakey: A Wound with Teeth & Phantom plays at the Southbank Centre’s Queen Elizabeth Hall from 9 – 11 April. Tickets from £22. Southbankcentre.co.uk