Ann Van den Broek is a choreographer exploring the interface of dance, music, video and installation art. Driven by a strong personal need, she develops new forms of expression for human needs and social themes such as depression and dementia. Ammodo spoke to Van den Broek about her triptych The Memory Loss Collection, physical memory, her future and passing on knowledge.

The overarching theme of The Memory Loss Collection is memory loss. We often talk about this topic in relation to medical science or healthcare, but you approach it from a different perspective. How would you describe that?
What I bring is a choreographic perspective. For me, that's visual, it's about placing bodies in a space and putting them in a rhythm. Using the body to express something such as an atmosphere or an emotion. I draw from existing sources and, in addition, from my personal experience. With people, cameras, and sound, I try to express something about memory loss from the perspective of the carer, loved ones, and the person themselves. We don't know exactly what memory loss is, especially in its final stages. We delve into the subject, as well as that emotional state. It is an emotional and analytical expression of the disease and of the fact of memory loss. This is reflected in the body, in movement and space. For instance, we start from the fact that a space suddenly seems to consist of many rooms and you lose your way, or wonder whether you have already been somewhere or not. Structurally and choreographically, the performance comprises many repetitions, but each time a little bit different. I’m sitting at the directing table but, just as the dancers, I occasionally think: which piece are we in now? So it works off-floor a bit too. That is inherent to being an artist, that you immerse yourself in it so much that it sometimes takes over.

In what respect is this perspective underexposed in everyday social life?
People caring for a loved one often find it difficult to talk about this. It is very confrontational to have to help someone to the toilet. Not that this happens on stage, but it is about that kind of thing. About the deterioration process. We don't talk about that so much. That happens out of respect and that's good, but many people are left with emotions and situations they don't know how to deal with. If we talked about this more, there would be more solutions. There are also many people whose mother, father or partner is affected but who have busy lives of their own and wonder how to deal with it. And it is also about how we as a society in general deal with illness. It is about a huge number of people. In the early stages of dementia, people can and still want to do things. Feeling useful is so important and is one of the motivations for me to share this. I also want to give heart to those affected by this. It's always tense, sharing with an audience; it reveals that some things are fairly confrontational.


In an interview with Marcelle Schots, who also wrote the book Protect Perform about your work, I read: "Dance can give meaning in a different way from other art forms. It doesn't need language. Great innovations have emerged from an embodied form of knowledge that was created intuitively." I find that an interesting fact, that something can be discovered in dance that can only be given language later.
This is also how I started in my evolution as an artist. For the first ten years, I wanted to explore how much I could say with the body. Without scenery, without cameras. The first time language came into play was when I felt: I can no longer do this with the body in a way that I believe it myself. That was with the performance I SOLO MENT which was about mental isolation and psychosis. I didn't want theatrical choreography and was looking for an element to express a train of thought. That could only be done through writing and drawings. That required a camera so that the audience could also see it. And so I started adding more and more elements. These are really different languages and I still struggle with that technical puzzle. For me, the body remains the essence. The other elements I use, obviously in collaboration with the people I work with, are an extension of that, they are extra arms and legs. I can't always express myself well in words. I find communication difficult and body language sometimes easier to understand. When I sit down like this now, it feels completely different. I do like language, lyrics, some books and poetry. For me, rhythm is very important. Rhythm is like a heartbeat. Time, space, rhythm. That's life.
There was a concrete reason and need to work with language at the time, have you appreciated it differently since then?
An evolution has taken place. In this performance, a text is 'just said'. Fragments of a scientific text about the brain, spoken by an actress. I wanted to put that information in. That can be done in other ways, but I was inspired by a couple of passionate professors I spoke to during the preparation. They have spent their whole lives studying that subject.

Memory Loss is the conclusion of a triptych. In recent years, you've found it important to draw longer lines and also engage in transfer and talent development. In that context, you also organise laboratories with your own company.
Ideally, I would do that even more, as a recurring moment in the season. But my organisation can't bear that yet.
What would that look like, in an ideal form?
A private space with a studio where study materials are also available, where I can give workshops and where music can be made. Where conversations take place and information is exchanged. A place for the physical and communicative aspects.
Does that desire also have to do with...
... getting older. I want to share and pass on.
... I was referring to conveying your vision of dance. I read that existing techniques don't give you enough opportunities to express your humanity.
It sounds strange, but I sometimes tell dancers to unlearn everything they have learned. For example, how someone bows. I often say: you look like a dancer. That's wonderful, but now just be a human being. Of course, I want the performers and dancers I work with to be skilled because otherwise you can't do all those combinations and counts. But what I strive for is that they can turn that on and off. The same goes for emotions. They have to deepen to feel aggression or desire and in a millisecond they have to be able to get rid of that. You have to do that again and again so that you get a physical memory for it. You have to be able to see your own body from the outside. Like you used to learn a plié or a tendu, or learn to walk. In my working method, we repeat the emotions each time, the shifts, and how a normal person walks. By training this, it becomes like a cupboard with all these drawers you can open. You can do a dance phrase in a neutral state, then pull open the drawer of desire and do the same dance phrase in that state. This changes the whole material.

The way you talk about it, it reminds me a bit of Polish theatre innovator Grotowski's trainings. Those trainings were very intensive and they also lived together in a community.
Yes, fantastic. My life has turned out differently but that must have been amazing. That maniacal, it goes so deep.
Is the younger generation still maniacal in that way?
It's dangerous to say anything about that. Everything is shifting, things are moving much faster now. My impression is that people want constant change and don't work in one way. They want to gain experience and do many different things. That's not easy for me either.
You live and work in both the Netherlands and Belgium, how do you experience that?
My work is financially supported mainly by the Netherlands. I live in Antwerp and my organisation is based in Rotterdam. It's navigating and also uniting cultures. In dance, but also societally and socially.
Do you continue to marvel at the differences or have you already completely internalised that duality?
For me, it is quite normal to mix Flemish and Dutch culture. When I was seventeen, I started studying at the dance academy in Rotterdam and have been travelling back and forth ever since. I also lived in Amsterdam for eight years when I worked with Krisztina de Châtel. That duality is also in my work and I would really miss something if one of them disappeared. I think it has been very important for my work and personality that it happened this way. Practically, for example, because of subsidy schemes. And because of the reviews. There are Flemish and Dutch trends, such as theatrical dance and conceptual dance. If I operated within one culture I might have become too dependent on that. It helped me to develop my own style and be a bit stubborn. Also in the structure of my organisation. I am a general leader whereas in the Netherlands the business and artistic are always separated and there is also a pressure to do so. I have something from both cultures. That I open my mouth is more Dutch. Waiting and seeing things from different perspectives is more Flemish. I am not often surprised but if I have to mention something it is the over-organisation of the Netherlands. So many rules, even in the theatre. That the bar always closes so early. In Belgium, and actually everywhere else, things are really different. But the further north you go...

Which artists do you follow yourself or would like to collaborate with?
Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds I think is great. But I don't know if I could handle creating something with him. And there are filmmakers I follow like Jim Jarmusch and David Lynch. Until now, I always had my own drive to make something. Sometimes I look for people for that, but I always work with the same set designer, video and lighting designer. They are buddies, boyfriends as the Dutch say, and because of that I can't or don't want to work with others. Before, I also had the fear that my own part would be snowed under. But I now think it can be enriching to come up with a concept together. It also depends on what type of collaboration it would be. If a filmmaker were to come to me, and I get to do my own thing, it wouldn't be a problem. I now know what my own language is. If I don't fully agree with something I can say: let's try that other perspective.
In terms of audiences, do you have any wishes or hopes for the future?
What I find unfortunate is that the audience in the Netherlands is pigeonholed. If you go to other countries you see a mixed audience that doesn't come especially for dance. That's about age or about people who normally go to the movies or come to a certain location. Here you have a fixed dance audience and I would love to break that. This has to be done in collaboration with the theatres and with other organisations. For example, make a brochure without the boxes dance, music, theatre. That would not change everything but maybe shift some. For example, my performance Accusations was more of a choreographed concert. So was Zooming in on Loss. That was sold as dance, even though we hadn't announced it that way ourselves. That way, you create a certain image and expectation of which some people say afterwards: but this isn't dance after all. That's a missed opportunity.
What implications does Corona have for your work?
We were going to tour and be at Julidans with Memory Loss. That's not going to happen. It's a big production that we can't possibly adapt. So we are parking it until season 20-21, when we want to tour with the triptych. We have made an alternative schedule for this autumn with existing work that we can offer, such as Zooming in on loss and Accusations. I will also be working on a new small production, Creating joy. That's about being able to enjoy the little things in life, despite setbacks. That plan was there before corona but is very appropriate now. We have fallen from one extreme situation to another. From doing a lot to sitting at home and organising everything remotely. I hope for the future that we can deal with people and the environment differently. It no longer seems of this time to travel somewhere with a whole company for one performance. That is so bad. We should keep touring, but maybe be in one place longer so there is more depth for audiences and companies. We are already working on that internally and with our agent, but of course we depend on how theatres and festivals look at it. Everything is moving so fast and more about quantity than depth. It's madness. In that sense, this has done well. I've always needed to recuperate after the ferocity of my plays. Cooking, reading, letting go of the past. I think a different period is coming for my work. I will always go deep, what I make is always intense. But I am also getting older. I am becoming softer. More grateful for everything that is there. I feel joy for all that has happened in the past few years and I want to share that with people.

Published on 1 July 2020.
Photos: Florian Braakman