Culture Vulture
Ea Sola Thuy is a Vietnamese contemporary dance choreographer who was trained in Paris and whose work often focuses on the theme of memory.
Her first production, Drought&Rain, was made possible by a grant from the French government. It was performed by elderly Vietnamese peasant women in Viet Nam.
After her debut in 1995, Ea Sola toured 14 European countries with a troupe of rural women aged 50 to 76 from Thai Binh and Nam Dinh provinces, performing Drought&Rain, Part I.
Since then, she has produced shows in Viet Nam and toured abroad with Drought&Rain, Part II; Once Upon a Time; and Requiem.
Drought&Rain will be recreated this autumn at the Edinburgh International Festival 2011 on September 1-3 and at the Saddler's Well Theatre in London on September 19-20.
Ea Sola spoke to Weekend Youth magazine about her work, as well as her journey to find her roots.
Is it true that you want to quit dance after Requiem? Do you want to leave the entire discipline of dance or just the stage?
I want to leave the stage. I think I'm not suited for it. Preparing a new dance piece is like writing a new story, and I cannot have a particular audience dictate the product or it will be nonsense.
Performing on stage is also a huge time commitment that I don't want every year. In Europe, and particularly in France, artists are expected to produce a new project every year if they want to receive grants from the government. In addition, the project is required to have French participation.
So after all this time I have returned to Viet Nam to work with the Vietnamese.
Why did you decide to come back to Viet Nam?
I don't work alone, and the dancers I work with in Drought&Rain are Vietnamese female peasants. I want them to really understand and freely participate in the stories they are telling. They discover themselves through the work and through the subject matter. I don't want the dancer to interpret a character. I want the dancer to be a consciousness in himself.
Despite studying the western school of contemporary dance, I do not want to force Vietnamese dancers to perform in that style. I don't instruct my dancers. I help them familiarise themselves with the work and learn from experience how to make an impression on the stage. It is an evolutionary process.
My dancers come to their individual memories through common memories. They express themselves as Vietnamese, not western people.
How long was the interim between your first work, Drought&Rain, and your latest Requiem?
There were 10 years between the two. When I began to research culture a lot in the 1990s, I met the dancers who performed in Drought&Rain many years ago.
The ideas always come from my memories of war. I also use my dancers' memories for inspiration. My work did not begin in the rehearsal studio. It began before I met them.
How did you live without dance?
I'm really tired. I don't want to continue to hurt myself as well as my audiences. I feel guilty. I am no longer well-known in the dance world. For a long time I felt conflicted about that, but now I have another power – freedom.
How long could you calm down to begin writing?
After my Requiem ended in 2003, I wrote consistently for three years. Then I went to China for my research about labourers. I met many young people, whom I questioned about globalisation, war and death. It urged me to write something or do something.
It will be disappointing for me if I do nothing. — VNS