Write self-interviews, but make fuckin’ sure you don’t try to justify your existence, your amateurish relation to philosophy and aesthetic theory or your dilettante knowledge about the body. Write tons of self-interviews and publish them on your FB page, upload them on aaaaarg and create a myspace page where you offer the world to listen to the audio version. Write self-interviews every day – make it undermine your practice, use the format to rip it apart, to make life hell. But the moment you start using the format in order to make life easier, to obtain satisfaction you are on the wrong track. It’s you and me that are responsible for how the self-interview became the trailer trash of dance.
“-Could you read my self-interview? This summer I was in a kind of crisis, but I think something really interesting…”
Jezuz, how out of focus are you. Come on if you have a crisis, to write a self-interview of three and a half A4 is not an option. That was not a crisis, you just wanted to pity yourself a bit. Pity yourself a lot, like a lot, and make it your artist identity, but then don’t even think about writing self-interviews. And btw if you are currently in an education program, quit it. It will violate you, brainwash you, make you a small person and a nice individual. Education is the social democratic version of hell.
Write self-interview as the only thing you do for the three months you spend in the studio. Nothing else before the premiere. Write self-interviews not in order to have ideas, or to pin point your problem. Write them for all other reasons, or for no reason at all, but the moment it starts to smell of therapy get the fuck out. That’s the moment when justification arrives, that’s the moment when self-righteous confession gets to be your superhero. Self-interviews are not there to make you special. Self-interviews are not a DIY kind of AA meeting: “-I’m a choreographer….”, I can say it.
Who do you want to be: Spiderman or Superman? Spiderman wrote a lot of self-interviews, and they tendentially started with a “-How are you today?”– therapy for a confused kid projecting superhero images on every possible surface. Spiderman is the manifestation of desire as lack. Peter Parker is conducting self-interviews as a substitute for not having a girlfriend to settle down with. But Superman don’t do self-interviews – he is from outer space. A place where Andy Warhol couldn’t reach him with his silent Freudian questions about what’s underneath, but there is nothing. Superman has no depth, and no stretch, but in that telephone booth (is he about to dress up in the Iphone in the next episode?) he’s operating in the crack. Fuck self-interviews be Superman and step down to the people and do journalism.
Self-interview is a mourning process, a kind of revenge for not being interviewed by the magazines. For not having a spread in the local dance paper… Oups – maybe not, but do the stars have that? They don’t, the problem of dance and choreography is it’s deep addiction to modesty and self-critique. So boring. Haven’t you understood that self-critical is another word for self-obsession and a masochistic kind of compulsive autopoiesis. Self-interview proposes that there is something noble in being humble. This has to be exorcised now.
Only if we give up on our desire to know what we desire, can something happen. No insurrection has started with a self-interview. Self-interviews are striation and lack, we need an antidote – no manifestos SVP – that’s the same thing but in Italian – no we need nothing else than to invent new forms of articulation, alternative concepts to produce knowledge. Be naïve and make it now, we have no time for elaboration, in any case elaboration brings you away from the crack, and into something tacky called deep or to the surface called dance theatre. BMC is bad for you; stop thinking that somebody will save you. It’s your job, to stab yourself in the back, that’s what self-interviews are for. They should be like ninja stars in your chest, a machete deep between your shoulder blades. You have no idea about the body.
Self-interviews imply asking, with a curious yet hesitating smile: “-Where will the revolution come from?”
Hello, it doesn’t come from somewhere, it doesn’t give interviews, it emerges with the liberation of desire. I fuckin want you! Now!