Feature Stories
Being Mark Morris
Mark Morris is someone a novelist or biographer might call a “good character.”
That is, as a choreographer, artist, and human being, Morris is not only a fascinating
study in genius, but also a reminder that in the pursuit of creativity, passion,
and happiness, speaking your mind is not only okay, it’s a necessity. Interviewing
Morris is a delight. He’s never predictable. He might enlighten you, make you laugh, or cause you to pause for thought.
The Mark Morris Dance Group celebrates its 25th Anniversary this year. Take a look at Morris’ repertoire and you understand why he has earned the reputation as one of the greatest choreographers of our generation. Recently, Morris took time out of a very busy performing schedule to consider what it’s like to be him. Enjoy.
I was very curious and confident and I had a great deal of fun. I
had a fabulous family.
What are your first memories of music?
Probably singing along with my family. We would sing on every car trip and at every opportunity—camp songs, old western songs, car songs. We were singing all the time.
What other kinds of music were you exposed to growing up?
My father played the piano and organ. He worked at a piano store in the summers—the rest of the year he was a school teacher. I would hang out at the piano store, sort of unminded—the store didn’t have a lot of customers. I would turn on all the player-pianos and I’d have all of them going at the same time. It was very exciting. . . .
I also listened to the radio a lot and became attracted to country
western music. I had friends who were already musicians at 11
or 12. I sang in the choir and I listened to all kinds of music.
When did you start choreographing?
I started making up dances for myself when I was probably six or seven. I would put on music and dance around quite a bit. I would organize my friends and we would put on shows for one another. The first dance I made up that was very good was Barstow (to music by Harry Partch) when I was 15. By good, I mean it would hold up on the stage today.
Where does your sense of humor come from?
I don’t know where that sort of thing comes from. Just like I don’t know where talent comes from. My family was very witty and rigorous. We would all correct each other’s English and we were very specific about word choice and word play. My grandfather was funny and so was my wonderful uncle. My mother had a good sense of humor, too. It was definitely what I would call “smarty pants” humor. We’re smart people.
What music are you listening to these days?
I’m always listening to the music I’m choreographing next. Right now I’m doing a big project for the Mostly Mozart Festival in August at Lincoln Center, two piano concertos and the double piano sonata, so I’m listening to and studying those a lot.
We’re [Mark Morris Dance Group (MMDG)] also in rehearsal. We open a show tonight at the Brooklyn Academy of Music (BAM) Opera House, so last night I worked on Going Away Party—the music is played by a western swing band called The Western Caravan.
This year is the 25th anniversary of Mark Morris Dance Group. I looked at your schedule on the company’s website (mmdg.org) and you have an incredibly ambitious year. Is this your life?
Yes, this is my life. I’m a choreographer, so I figure I should choreograph. I work very hard but I don’t work in a horrible factory. I have a wonderful job.
When you don’t have so many obligations to others, how do you spend your time?
I travel so much that I like to stay at home when I’m off. I cook and I have friends.
What matters to you as a choreographer?
Dances must be interesting, engaging, honest, surprising, and of
high quality.
As far as art goes, I know what I like. I’m not a particular expert on anything. I read fiction and poetry. I see plays, music concerts, and I go to the opera a great deal. I travel a lot. I watch television but I don’t see many movies.
How does Sylvia differ from other ballets of the Romantic period?
All Romantic period ballets are about women—women in a terrible situation. That’s the drama and female tragedy of the nineteenth century. Contemporary audiences sometimes forget that it takes an incredible woman to dance the role of a heroine dying of a broken heart.
Sylvia differs from other works of the late nineteenth century in
that the heroine runs everything. Women are in control here. It’s
sort of a proto-feminist piece but the politics are coincidental.
It’s the story and music that attracted me to this work. The strength of the libretto is there. I take no responsibility for that.
SF Ballet dancers always name you as one of their favorite guest choreographers. Why do you think that is?
I’m honest with them and I give them responsibility and assume that they will take it. I don’t pander to people. I expect them to do their jobs really well and remain interested.
How do you balance your humor and drive as a choreographer?
That’s what I’m like. Just because I’m funny doesn’t mean I’m not serious and vice versa. Joke or no joke, I’m direct with people. Of course I’ve learned that I’m not supposed to be like that. But I can handle it.
You’re nearing the end of an incredibly busy month with a month-long engagement in New York. Any highlights?
A scary and satisfying thing was conducting for the first time. I conducted Vivaldi’s Gloria, a piece that I choreographed 25 years ago. This was another way to get deeper into the music. I conducted the orchestra, chorus, and soloists for the performances of my company. That was exciting and surprising. I think it went very well.
I’ve also had fun bringing back some solos, duets, and dance trios that I’ve made up over the last 25 years. Something like 15 of them. So I’ve been teaching these again. That’s been great.
I also hosted a very fun karaoke evening at the BAMcafé. It was very popular and fun. So much so that there were a lot of people who didn’t get to sing. We ran out of time.
What did you sing?
I sang Patsy Cline’s “Three Cigarettes in the Ashtray” and Tammy Wynette’s “D-I-V-OR-C-E.” There was an enormous variety of songs and singers.
Tell us a little about your new work for English National Opera.
Henry Purcell’s King Arthur is a fully danced opera. Seven singers and my company are on stage. The chorus and orchestra are in the pit. It’s sort of a variety show. I’m not trying to link the music with any story. It’s about an hour and a half of music and opens in London on June 26.
What are you looking forward to in the months ahead?
Touring, choreographing, San Francisco Ballet in New York, the Mostly Mozart Festival, and my life.
Q & A conducted and edited by Daryl Carr.
Image: Mark Morris (© Amber Darragh)