Bebe Miller is real. She's the kind of no-bullshit woman
who makes her own phone call to schedule an interview.
A major player on the international dance scene for more
than 15 years, Miller has more than earned the right to
have someone else do her grunt work. But that's not Bebe.
This week, Miller returns to Portland with her namesake
company to share three new works: Rhythm Studies, Three
and selections from Verge, a piece that was developed
last year during a three-week residency in the Rose City.
Willamette Week talked to Miller in New York prior
to her arrival.
Willamette Week: What have you been up to lately?
Bebe Miller: I had a really good day in the studio yesterday.
I was able to make something happen. I like studio life
a lot.
What's studio life?
It's the place where I see the same group of people every
day. We talk about food and movies. Then we get up and move.
How much do you love New York?
I love it, but I long for a porch and a backyard. I'm looking
to do something radically different with my company. My
current model of working with a group doesn't work for me.
Artistically, I'm ready to slow down a bit.
Does that have anything to do with your age?
Sure. I just turned 50. I would like to slow down a bit
and let things find me. People are thinking with a new brain,
and I want to be able to digest those thoughts and let them
gestate.
What is your first dance memory?
I was raised by an extraordinary mother who began to take
me to community dance classes when I was only 3. I was too
young to join the class, so I sat on the instructor's lap.
The instructor's name was Murray Louis [the famed choreographer
of the Nikolais Dance Company]. His classes weren't about
being from the ghetto. They were abstract: all line, shape
and volume.
How important are race and gender in your work?
I can't escape race or gender. It's always there. In my
new piece, Verge, I place two couples on the
stage. At first, all I see is a man and a woman and the
fact they are black and white. The challenge is how I deal
with it, not so much for the audience, but for myself. In
the '80s, identity was one of the ways you defined yourself.
But, I've had enough of soul-searching in that particular
way. I want mystery.
Your new solo, Rhythm Studies, explores dance
as a form of memoir. How comfortable are you sharing your
most intimate memories on stage?
It's easy, but you don't show everything. I'm always surprised
when people come up to me after a show and say they know
me. My solo work is my most extreme self. I don't live that
way all the time.
After working on the film Three, would you ever
consider doing more films?
Of course. Do you know any filmmakers?
|
