5/6/17

I am on the train up to London. I am about to start making a piece for Rambert Dance Company. There is about to be a general election. I wonder how both of these unexpected events will turn out?

Recent form would suggest not well. After the Brexit vote I sat in my metropolitan elite (well, rural Sussex) impotence and wondered what I was contributing to this divided island, and I thought of Nina Simone. Not because our situations are comparable (they’re definitely not), but because she said that an artist’s duty is to reflect the times.

We have 22 dancers, five musicians and six weeks to create a 30-minute piece that will reflect the times. Over the weekend, eight people were killed in the London Bridge terror attack. These are the times. Apart from weeping on stage, what can I say about this? I don’t know and my train is getting closer to London, so I need an idea pretty soon.

I think art is the opposite of terrorism. And that means the more frequent and violent the terrorism is, the better the art has to become.

In an ideal world, I would begin today with no preconceptions and no decisions except what time rehearsal began. But the world is not ideal, so before today I knew this much: the piece will include Nina Simone’s 1976 Montreux jazz festival version of Feelings and the other songs will be those made famous or interpreted by Simone; Nia Lynn will sing these songs, and we will have a band on stage led by musical director and piano player Yshani Perinpanayagam.

(Later)

That was the first day. I have a creeping feeling that I am not a choreographer – creeping like a bloody dismembered hand writing on the wall: “You are not a choreographer.” The dictionary definition of choreographer is “the person who composes the sequence of steps for a performance of dance”. I know they still exist, but I don’t know anyone who is this kind of choreographer. The kind I know have a wide range of tactics for reaching towards the thing they want to see on stage. Their role is more like a director, selecting and shaping what the performers are creating. I am that kind of choreographer. But right now, the unconvinced stares of this particular group of dancers make me wonder if they’d prefer one of the dictionary kind.

7/6/17

It’s Wednesday and I’m ready to quit. One of the dancers said: “I’ve seen your solo, and I think applying the ideas of a solo to a group work is disastrous.” Disastrous, he said. I was waiting for him to smile, but he didn’t. He described what I was doing as disastrous! Not questionable but disastrous. Dancers didn’t speak to Merce Cunningham like that, did they? Did they?

9/6/17

In the rehearsal room we were talking about the recent events in London and dance’s relevance in the face of such violence. In Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring an innocent is chosen to be sacrificed so that spring can return. Maybe if we sacrificed one member of the Rambert Dance Company we could help the world. I asked the company one at a time to say why they shouldn’t be sacrificed and who should be. They almost unanimously chose to sacrifice me. I think they are trying to tell me something.

19/6/17

At Gatwick airport on my way to rehearsal. The train conductor has just announced we will have a minute’s silence for the victims of Grenfell Tower fire. The train starts moving. Inside it we are silent. On the platform everyone is silent. The train pulls out and the silence makes everyone look stunned, as if they had all realised something at the same moment. It is extraordinary.

20/6/17

The production manager is running out of patience. Tom Rogers has designed the perfect set – it looks like a civic centre from sometime in the 80s and captures perfectly the atmosphere of the piece – but it is unachievable in the context of a triple bill of works that are going on tour. Anything we design has to be put-upable in 10 minutes. That is tighter than an Edinburgh fringe turnaround and near-on impossible for even the most basic of sets. But I know that Rambert have achieved far beyond the most basic sets in the past, so we are asking for one of those. We are at stalemate.

It is a hot day, I am wearing flip-flops. One of the dancers owns a dog that lives in the production office during the day. While we are receiving our ultimatum, the dog is licking my feet under the table. I am trying to subtly stop the dog licking my feet and at the same time defend my artistic rights.

22/6/17

I wouldn’t say things are coming together, but there are some moments that work. Fragments. Here is a list of some of the tasks and questions that have led us to these fragments:

Choose a song you like and sing it to us all.

How does it feel to come and dance after the Borough market attacks?

Tell us when you felt the most hopeless and the most hopeful.

Create a physical gesture for each of the things Nina Simone ain’t got in the song Ain’t Got No.

Dance your relationship.

Sing My Way as if in a drunken rage with no one close enough to hit.

Be Fate.

Dance yourself to death.

Explain everything to me as if I had never seen a dance performance before.

23/6/17

Yesterday’s optimism was misplaced. Today nothing is working. The irreplaceable Wins Burnet-Smith cannot come in because her daughter has chicken pox on her tongue, Yshani the musical director has a kidney infection and also cannot be here, one of the dancers got elbowed so hard in the face by another dancer that his head is being held together by a strange bandage which cannot be sweated on to, which makes it pretty useless for a dancer. To top it all off, the world-renowned choreographer Kim Brandstrup is upstairs waiting to swoop on any dancers I’m not using and create a work of genius on them.

26/6/17

My relationship with the company has moved from mutual suspicion to growing acceptance, dotted with moments of unrequited love (from me to them). In their own words, they are “passionate, opinionated, fractured, diverse, supportive, sensitive, fun and temporary” group. I agree with that. I’d also add talented.

It turns out we are making a piece about impotence, and our desire to impact the world, to make a difference and to somehow help when things are going to shit in the public and private spheres. It is made up of grief, struggle, beauty and the personalities of this inspiring company.

7/7/17

The last day of creation! I have some rehearsal time in September that is meant to be just for the finishing touches. I can confidently say that I will not finish the piece today.

Today my daughter is taking part in a parade. To mark her leaving primary school she will be walking down the high street dressed as a cherry tree in blossom. It is not something I can miss. So I will watch her do that and then I will catch the train to London for three hours of rehearsal in which everything will fall into place.

(Later)

I think that what this piece is possibly missing is a mobile cherry tree.

15/9/17

The last day of rehearsal. Since 5 June we have spent 30 days together. That is less time than a rabbit’s pregnancy. In an ideal world, I would spend every moment of every day rehearsing with the company from today until the premiere on 26 October, but as has already been discussed this is not an ideal world, and in case we needed reminding today someone exploded a bucket on the tube at Parsons Green.

I have complete faith in Angela (the rehearsal director), who will take on rehearsing the piece from now – more than anyone else, she has had to find sense in the endless contradictions I’ve offered by way of instruction – and in the company, who have surprised me endlessly in how they have shared of themselves to create this work.

13/10/17

As I watch the final run through I feel tearful and elated. That is either because I’ve had too much caffeine and not enough sleep or because this piece has something. I will have to wait until opening night to know for sure.

• Goat is part of Rambert’s triple bill at Festival theatre, Edinburgh, 26-28 October. Box office: 0131-529 6000. Then touring.