Agency in Crafting ‘Night Music’

We started our rehearsal with a workshop, introducing Theatrical Intimacy Education’s Self Care Cue and discussing Spaces of Acceptable Risk; acknowledging that consent is contextual, conditional, and revocable; discussing the inheritance of our industry, and offering tools that we would use in crafting both onstage kisses and other simulations of intimacy.

So often, I forget that what I do is new. It all seems obvious to me—artists should have agency when we are crafting stories through the implementation of their bodies.

Duh.

But these four actors—cast members of Pasadena Playhouse’s A Little Night Music—were ignited by my sharing of information and techniques for them to utilize throughout the process. They seemed, to me, almost inapprorpiately excited about what they were learning. And that’s when I remembered that to so many in my field, intimacy choreography and consent-based creative processes are still revolutionary, and are very, very new.

After our workshops and a brief break, we began crafting the choreography of a few moments—interactions between the characters of Henrik and Petra, between Petra and Anne, between Anne and Henrik, and between Petra and Frid. The moments ranged from gleeful teases of sexuality to sullen consideration of bodies. By the end of rehearsal, we had staged interactions that included slaps and pokes and kisses—and one extended instance of rolling off of a platform together and over and over one another until we arrive downstage.

Petra (Ruby Lewis) and Frid (Adam James King), having rolled off of a platform and gleefully tumbled over one another to arrive downstage. Pasadena Playhouse 2023

As my time wound down, the director approached, stating that I had crafted subtle layers in these moments that surprised him. He was particularly delighted in the Frid and Petra rolling downhill sequence. And then he asked: ”how did you get them to do it?”

Here’s the secret about the way I choreograph intimacy: I don’t “get” anyone to do anything.

I taught them some new tools and techniques, we had earnest conversations about consent, and then, armed with that information, their trepidation melted and they jumped into creating these moments. We worked together, within their boundaries, to craft physical poetry that communicated the emotion of the scene, within the staging parameters he had expressed.

Because consent is a tool that supports effective artistic collaboration.

Intimacy choreographers don’t exist to interrupt artistic processes—we aim to enhance these processes with ethical and efficient practices.

In the end, A Little Night Music was a lovely show. But even more than the choreography we crafted together, I’m proud of the impact I had on these artists. Adam, Ruby, Kaley, and Chase surprised me after opening; they had ordered custom-made shirts that celebrated the work we did together, and the way that my workshop had reshaped their ideas of what types of artistic collaboration are possible when it comes to crafting intimacy.

Artists are empowered by agency in crafting intimacy.

And that’s a good thing.

Petra (Ruby Lewis), dissatisfied after nearly deflowering the religious Henrik (Chase Del Rey)

Desiree Armfeldt (Merle Dandridge) attempts to rekindle a relationship with Fredrik (Michael Hayden)

The shirts read “Button” down the sleeve—our self care cue—and “MBIMF” (My Body Is My Fence) on the chest.