When we get into the studio we improvise with movement, voice, live instrument, sonic and technical elements; we storyboard, discuss, write and film. It is interactive and busy, several things can be happening at once.

During R&D and beyond into devising, our processes are social and dynamic. Unnecessary barriers between company directors, producer, apprentice, collaborators, dancers, participants are dissolved so that a great idea can come from anyone at any time. We work closely with all our creatives and collaborate with our dancers, we let them in, and allow them to affect our thinking.

“As a dancer with Lîla, I feel continually valued. I feel that my creative voice is welcomed and supported by their open and collaborative approach in the studio, where no voice is ignored. I found the atmosphere in the creative space to be playful, generous and accommodating.” — Jon Mewett

All voices have value and contribution is welcomed so that discussions are lively, rich and everyone feels invested. We follow this simple ethos, not just to support a happy work environment, but because we believe that if everyone feels comfortable, confident and valued, they make great work.

This process is also about ‘keeping all your balls up in the air’, it is not linear, ideas come in from above, down below, at right angles. They clash and tangle round one another, a brilliant idea can also be hugely problematic. It is a messy process where solution and problem have a reciprocal relationship and understanding the character of each requires collaboration with multiple creatives.

When we enter the studio for the making process we come equipped with all the knowledge we have gained from R&D and 6-8 weeks of time ahead of us to make the full-length work. We have a pallet of visual ideas, sketched out sections, movement material, some unformed music/ sound tracks. The set has been built or is being built, it will continue to be refined through rehearsals. The lighting designer has an intention and has brought in a few bits of equipment, that will be tested and refined during devising.

Lou (our producer) is in the space with us, informing the work through her knowledge of venues and audiences. The early part of the creative process is not completely distinguishable from R&D, trial, error, experimentation and improvisation still play a major role, but this time we are more productive, more focused on solving rather than posing alternative avenues (although this still happens). Making the work is an intricate, dense and complex process.

The following sections delve into our approaches to making one idea at a time.

We work very collaboratively with our dancers to connect who they are to the role they are playing. Consequently, we hire performers that are inquisitive, inventive, playful and willing to explore their passions and vulnerabilities with a live audience. In all cases and especially when making narrative work it is important to us that glimpses of the dancers’ ‘soul’ can be located within the character they are playing. What can you use in your life experience to better understand the decisions, relationships and mind set of this role?

We use explorative tasks and improvisation to harness spontaneous feelings and then identify the best compositional and directional approach to ‘net’ these feelings so that they can be reignited in the architecture of the choreography again and again. This process is a tight collaboration between dancer and director at every step of the process. We are not actors, we do not have theatre training, but dancers have a deep understanding of the body and a unique ability to enter a relationship with movement and feeling that is visceral in order to understand a situation through embodied processes.

Therefore, whilst we continue an important supportive verbal dialogue with each individual dancer, ideas are explored through the rigor and exactitude of physicality. Through a deep connection with the moving body and an engagement with a number of related phenomena a particular 'world' emerges for the dancer that exceeds the material itself.

To encourage this process we direct the dancers to give agency to their unique expression of the narrative, so their story feels genuine, and their physical connections with each other reveals further interrelated layers. The process requires the dancer to be vulnerable on a daily basis so they open themselves up to new possibilities and explore sides of themselves that they do not necessarily connect with in their own lives. We therefore work hard to provide a safe and friendly environment that supports this risk-taking with care and consideration to their wellbeing.

Although we make narrative work, narrative does NOT often initiate the creation of movement material. Why? because we find that starting with story can lock the mind-body into stereotypical or overly literal ways of thinking and behaving. We tend to begin moving in solos and duets from abstract tasks that situate the dancers inside creative, problem solving methodology. These tasks regularly challenge the dancer to creatively ‘dissect’ their body into many small elements, to consider all the possibilities of the joints and movement choices available . (If you would like to know more about our favourite making tasks check out our e-book.). The thinking around this approach is to discover narrative inside movement material as opposed to imitating life with dance. Imagine this:

If I gave you the task to make a solo based on the sense of loss and isolation, what would you do? What movement ideas spring to mind?

Now imagine you enter the space with material already on your body, a complex series of connections, falls and recoveries. If I ask you to dance this whilst carrying the sensation of loss and isolation, what might you discover? What would you discover form listening to what is already there? Can you learn anything about yourself, about where you hold these feelings in your body?

We don’t necessarily know what the task will create or what part it will play in the articulation of our narrative. Our major concern in this early phase is - is it interesting? There often resides a gut response about what this movement might potentially lend itself to in terms of character, relationship or theme (see text and dramaturgy below). Sometimes the answer does not come for a long time, sometimes it never comes and we let the material go. Then we begin a process we call ‘toning’- directing the material to colour or shade it to say what we want it to say. It involves making more of the qualities that are already suggestive of the idea and editing away movements that do not align with the intention. Finally, we direct the dancer to find qualitative sensations that guide the most detailed elements of performance, and this process continues up to and beyond each performance. This detailed toning relates to sometimes very small, even molecular ideas about the body- the navigation of breath, minute postural emphasis, focus of the eyes, your relationship with the audience. All of this is about centering the body with the mind, so that a feeling or sensation can be reignited in front of and with a live audience.

We bring together dance, music, set, props, lighting design and text in our productions and collaborate with specialists in their field to bring new voices outside of our expertise into the frame of our thinking from the very outset of each project. Collaborators are invited and encouraged to pose ideas and nurture (or push!) our practice towards new approaches.

I have worked on several pieces with them spanning several years and they have given me really enjoyable scope for my own creative freedom… I feel they collaborate in the truest sense: open to discussion, good communication and new ideas, even if it means being taken into a slight discomfort zone occasionally. They have worked with me when I have pushed them to use more colour or something similar and I have appreciated when they have a clear vision for themselves. - Holly Murray

In practice this means that our artistic collaborators are invited to position their research and creation predominantly in the studio to experience the tone and textures of the ideas as they emerge. Shared studio experience supports creative exchange through a reciprocal relationship whereby we are all affected, orientated and challenged by the work of others. Whilst the director manages and steers the artistic vision for the work the creative space is one of deliberation, consensus, democracy. Let us use an example of how dialogue across disciplines can throw up ideas above and beyond the limitations of the discipline itself:

When researching My Bit we presented designer Hannah Bradbeer with a brief to devise a space for outdoor festivals that was contained by 2x2 metre boarders. Our research at this point, explored post-brexit Britain and people’s personal feelings towards boarders and boundaries as objects that separate and divide. Her thoughts about what materials might compose these boarders brought up important ideas. For example: wire - might suggest immigration boarder, brick - might allude to berlin wall, sandbags - strong imagery related to world war I, tape- could position the work to look like a crime scene. This discussion brought to light the power of semiotics (symbols) in setting up of the theatrical world, and entangled human-world relationships that might impact the reading of the work. We considered how immediate encounters with the scenic design might implicate historical or cultural connections and overlaps between the work and the wider world. Importantly it led us to consider what materials are steeped in inference that we wanted to reference and those that we didn’t; in short, what kind of work are we making? It was an important conversation to have early on.

Our collaborations around the scenic, lighting (and to some extent, sonic) design are defined and inspired by two performative contexts:

Touring to predominantly small-scale theatres

We work with our collaborators to consider how we can redefine approaches to small-scale so that our audiences feel immersed by work that is designed to be experienced close-up, viscerally and personally.

Touring to non-theatrical spaces

School halls, converted churches, village halls - in this context requires that that scenic, lighting and sound design needs to be technically self-contained, easy to travel and install without any compromise on impact. We have responded to these practical ‘limitations’ by developing creative methodologies that holistically synthesise set, props text, music, light into the choreographic language.

These two considerations have given rise to a Lîla aesthetic- that is to fully integrate design, sonic and performance elements to intensify emotions, give gravitas to a physical sensation and create a world that feels instantly tactile. We want the audiences to feel that the world emerges from the stage as a composite and intrinsic process between performers and environment as opposed to being placed upon it through high tech solutions ‘from above’.

The use of low-tech ‘DIY’ production elements that elevate ‘poor man’s props’/ household items to nuanced cinematic levels is an important player in this methodology. In a time of increasing digitalisation we love how this aesthetic reinforces fundamental contact with the body-within-the-world so that the performance space feels relatable, haptic and down to earth.

Narratively this approach also enables us to not only fully situate the performers as inhibitors of the world but also cast them as creators of it. For the dancer this means they they have to memorise a great deal of technical queues in-between and often during dancing. Through this approach we aim to make meaningful connections between people, place and our roles within it (for both dancer and audiences).

The Deluge has many examples of the choreography synthesising production elements:

• The dancers create the effect of a train passing at night-time through shining a torch behind a desktop fan to cast rhythmical flashing lights on the silhouette of a dancer gripping to the railing.

• Mobile phone ring tones and voice messages emerge out of a Bluetooth speaker hidden in a bag to both elevate and localise the sound and situate it within the performers experience of the world.

• The use of a TV (we carefully selected a scene in a film that uses blue tones) creates flickering mood lighting on the face of a performer as he contemplates his situation.

• Many tiny balloon lights emerge from the audience in the hands of our community cast in tune to questions heard over head. The lights search through the space as if looking for answers.

• A transitory, magical room floats, surges and grounds itself around a central character (Sarah) through the puppeteering of a few ordinary household objects.

The composing and editing of text in a LÎla work is a process that is both embedded and a composite of the development of meaning and narrative (dramaturgy). Therefore, when discussing how text is devised, sourced or edited it is impossible to do so without contextualising its purpose within the greater objectives of a particular work. Here are a couple of examples to elucidate our processes:

When we made The Incredible Presence of a Remarkable Absence we explored text with the same treatment as we would a piece of movement material, applying choreographic devices to alter both its form and content. Each dancer was given a single line from Beckett’s play Waiting for Godot with which to work with and explored reordering the words, increasing its size (volume), the rhythm by which it is spoken, the dynamics (the way it is spoken). We fragmented it, inverted it, embellished it. We even rewound it. Then we tried dancing at the same time as speaking, mirroring the choreographic device by getting smaller in volume and smaller in the size of our action for example. Then we explored opposite approaches with voice and body to find tensions- the movement material increasing in tempo as the voice became slower and slower. We tried every other combination in between that we could think of. The relevance of this approach was contextualised by the absurdity of Beckett’s play that gave us permission to be bold, playful and expressive with our interpretations and imaginations and embrace the weird and the outright bizarre. If you watch the show carefully, you will notice that each dancer only ever says a few words throughout the whole show. Many times a single line is reinvented in different contexts.

When we made The Deluge and The Hotel Experience we collaborated with writer and dramaturg Nick Walker who brought a new methodology to our making- process. We begin by moving - always moving first. Nick observes the process and listens to the conversations that take place between choreographer and dancers, he is observing what qualities are already ‘simmering’ in the material as potential narrative avenues, ‘assessing’ what is essential to the material. It is a process of discovery rather than invention as it involves identifying what makes the movement interesting so that this essential element is preserved and eventually made vital. It feels a bit like turning the volume UP on an idea to attune to its nature, amplify its intention, and bring its meaning to the forefront. His provocations in response to what he sees are very often the beginnings of the toning process (See movement material) and contributes to the forming of character, themes and narrative. Nick works closely with the director to guide the dramaturgy of the work but the process involves collaboration across the entire creative team.

Since 2012 all of our full-length productions have integrated community casts who dance alongside our professional performers in one or more sections of the work.

Devising the role of the community begins at the inception of each production to develop a meaningful and imaginative scenario for the presence of new faces and energy. During research and development periods we invite local people to explore ideas for these sections to test narrative constructs and explore material possibilities.

We eventually compose languages that are fixed in its intention and expression but flexible enough to respond to the strengths and dynamism of each local community. For this reason, no two performances are ever the same. Whilst we ‘drill’ precision through the rehearsal process we place emphasis on individuals connecting to narrative, so communities feel connected to the world of the work and their role within it.

Therefore, it is important that the physical rehearsal is supported with artistic discussion through description, imagery, metaphor so that community members can reflect on their performance in a holistic and meaningful way. It is important to us that in performance all cast members occupy and constitute the same harmonious narrative space.

We create work firstly in sections, each with a distinct narrative and physical identity. Often we have multiple sections going on at once to hold open the possible pathways of the narrative until each section is fully realised; we have coined this idea as holding your nerve; staying with the trouble until it is ready to be untangled. The work remains in isolated episodes until late on in the creative process, until we feel we have all the material and content we need to form the work. We work it out on paper first in discussion over many cups of tea. Each section gets a post-it note and is placed on a white board, where by we ‘audition’ its potential to sit in any dedicated position. This process is led by the dramaturg and debated amongst the creative team. We have two main considerations at play within these conversations, the narrative order of events and the choreographic order of events- they don’t always ‘agree’. For example, the most efficient narrative order of events might be as follows:

• Luke - Broken Bird Solo (dark tone, staccato)

• Abi - funeral speech solo (dark, emotional)

• Joe - Tick tock solo (dark, staccato)

• Dream Hotel quartet (Bright, light, expansive)

However, choreographically we have three solos playing out one after the other, each with dark mood, lighting and soundscore. The dynamics and tone have similar expressions and the rise and fall/ light and shade of the overall work could do with separating these ideas.

We structure again:

• Luke - Broken Bird Solo (dark tone, staccato)

• Dream Hotel quartet (Bright, light, expansive)

• Abi - funeral speech solo (dark, emotional)

• Joe - Tick tock solo (dark, staccato)

We debate - can the narrative play out in this order? What edits or additions do we need to make to support this version of events? Structuring the episodes together becomes a process of realising the various ‘candidates’ of the work and discovering which order brings the overall narrative and the individual journey of each character to the audience most effectively and vibrantly. In a sense, we trial many possibilities, interrogate each option, then dance each version before finally settling on the work.