[5x5] 2025_Savanah Leaf x Kyle Abraham x Habiba Hopson

24JULY2025: a conversation between artist Savanah Leaf, choreographer Kyle Abraham, and curator Habiba Hopson, following the screening of RUN + RUN 002, two single-channel videos functioning as a self-portrait that explores the physicality of the Black female form. Starring the artist, William Richards and Willem Dafoe, the short film series was previously exhibited at Hauser & Wirth, Los Angeles and SFMoMA.

Presented as the final episode of 5x5, 99 Canal’s annual performance series, the talk engages questions of performance, authorship, vulnerability, and the act of being seen.

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Selected Quotes

That sort of ownership is so rare in filmmaking. The freedom of art, fine art and other art forms, is really special. I rarely get the ability to, wake up, make a piece of art and throw it out to the world. I don't feel like I have that opportunity that much.

—- Savanah Leaf

It's also a curiosity of when you have to abandon an idea because it's maybe not a good idea, but it was something worth trying. That's something I'm always grappling with, that inner saboteur.

—- Kyle Abraham

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Speakers:

Currently part of our Studio Program at 99 Canal, Savanah Leaf is an artist, filmmaker, and 2012 Olympian whose work bridges cinema and contemporary art. Her debut feature Earth Mama premiered at Sundance to critical acclaim and was released theatrically by A24 and Film4. The film earned her the BAFTA Award for Outstanding Debut, a BIFA for Best Debut Director, and placement on the National Board of Review’s list of top debut films of 2023. Leaf’s film-based installations have been exhibited at institutions including Hauser & Wirth and SFMOMA, and will soon be on view at Crystal Bridges and the Pérez Art Museum Miami.

Habiba Hopson is a curator and writer based in Brooklyn, NY. She’s currently senior curatorial assistant at the Studio Museum in Harlem, where—along with hosting the Museum’s first podcast New Additions—she supports the research and planning of curatorial projects for the Museum’s new building.

Kyle Abraham is a 2013 MacArthur Fellow and currently sits on the advisory board for Dance Magazine and the artist advisory board for Hubbard Street Dance Chicago. In 2020, he was selected to be Dance Magazine’s first-ever Guest Editor. Rebecca Bengal of Vogue wrote, “What Abraham brings … is an avant-garde aesthetic, an original and politically minded downtown sensibility that doesn’t distinguish between genres but freely draws on a vocabulary that is as much Merce and Martha as it is Eadweard Muybridge and Michael Jackson.” In addition to performing and developing new works for his company A.I.M by Kyle Abraham, Abraham has been commissioned by a variety of dance companies. Most recently, Abraham received two international commissions from the Royal Ballet.

Savanah Leaf_ Run + Run 002 at 99 Canal (5x5, 2025)

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Transcript
recorded on 24.07.2025

Savanah Leaf (SL): Thank you guys for coming. This turnout is really unexpected, so I appreciate it. Thank you.

Habiba Hopson (HH): Another round of applause?

(audience applauds)

HH: So beautiful. I want to begin by talking about you in the work: autobiography, self-portrait. Can you maybe share a little bit? Because I feel there's a certain… and Kyle, I want to hear you also speak about this too. Just given Park Avenue Armory in December, you putting yourself in your work …there's a certain vulnerability I can imagine, being not directing it, but actually being in it and directing yourself in it. Can you speak a little bit about what it meant to put yourself in your work?

SL: Yeah. I wasn't really initially intending on putting myself in it. I wanted to make something that spoke to what I was going through at the time, which was a mix of me making a movie and releasing that movie, and the feelings you have when you have all these, (I'm trying to say this in the right way,) but you basically are making this movie, and you've got these execs, and you've got these financiers, and you've got all these people and this distribution company and, sometimes you just want to release the movie and be connected with that piece and do it exactly how you want to do it. And so I felt like I was running on a treadmill, in a way, and at the same time, I was thinking back to my athletic career. Because I used to play sports, and this feeling of being watched and analyzed and dissected. So I initially was trying to cast somebody, and I couldn't find the right person for it. Then, my partner Ryan, who's in the front row, suggested that I be in it, and I was terrified.

But we were trying to make this movie in a week. So I was like, fuck it. I remember just being terrified in the anticipation of it. But there's something that you don't get in filmmaking like you do get in performance, which is that adrenaline rush. As a director, I don't get that same feeling. I see it in other people a lot, but I don't even know how to fully describe it. So there was an interesting connection back to me as an athlete, I loved being an athlete when the game was on. I didn't love practice, and that's the feeling of performance for me, or in this piece,

Kyle Abraham (KA): I feel like I'm the opposite. Yeah, I love process. I love the danger and the safety that you can have in a process. You know, obviously some of that can apply in performance. Ironically, I was saying to Savanah earlier, I had seen the first film run in LA at Hauser and Wirth, and then in December, having done my performance at The Armory, where, if you hadn't seen it, I'm running in a circle for maybe, like six and a half minutes and thinking about how to embody an aging process. To do so, I have to find different ways to use my feet, because if you're a young kid, you're not necessarily thinking of rolling through your feet like a dancer would. So doing that, and then trying to find maybe 40 years and another 40 years and how to tighten up my body, and in the process, tore my calf, and thinking about that in relationship to this film and to this notion of the adrenaline of performance, because I was like, nobody's gonna do my part. They do. I'm not gonna want to go back in. But it also brings up questions for me in watching it around how you consider focus as a performer separate from focus as a director and filmmaker, because I found myself following your gaze and thinking about how considered that might have been in that process.

SL: Yeah, there's an element of staying present. Also, I gotta say I hate running. I really hate running. So for me even if I'm just running for 60 seconds, it's torture. So there's an element of it that's like how I see acting as well, putting people in a circumstance where you don't really have to act, it's already difficult for me. I was strapped to this thing, and I couldn't go to the bathroom. I also was taped. I don't even know if you could see it, but the costume design was kinesiology tape. So that was taped. I couldn't go to the bathroom.

I couldn't leave this room. We were shooting in a morgue for that particular one, and it was an ex-morgue. And so that room is boiling hot now. There's all these elements that already are affecting your body and I do that with when I'm directing, I try to create these physical obstacles so you're reducing the amount of acting to that moment.

HH: It's interesting also to think about, I want to hear you all speak about performance even more deeply, right? Because [Savanah], as a former athlete, Kyle, as a dancer and choreographer, I imagine there's a certain anxiety in performance jitters, but also the anxiety of a gaze right, of anxiety of not achieving, or the fragility of success, right? I feel like success can be somewhat of a fleeting feeling. So I guess I'm curious about that. For you, Savanah, was that something that you were thinking about in this work, or is that something that comes up in this work, the anxiety of an outside gaze?

SL: Yeah, 100%

For me, I'm this tall, black woman that looks like an athlete, you know, when I walk in the room. Ever since I was a kid, I was expected to be an athlete, and when I wanted to do other things, people were like, no, but you're really talented at this thing. In a way, I fell into, or it's not even falling into, it's just that was what the world chose for me, playing sports, and they were always watching me.

I feel even now if I walk down the street, people are watching you when you got this tall height, and you look like an athlete there, the first thing they say is do you play sports? So that was always there. Then I wanted to play specifically with that feeling of being watched and dissected and analyzed, and what that feels like for me as a black woman in all these spaces where I'm oftentimes surrounded by white men and just me being a child that was never raised by a father. Even that alone, having men looking at me, and what that feels like.

I don't know if I'm answering your question, but I wanted to lean into that feeling, and the fact that nobody actually sees you being watched a lot of the time, that really makes sense.

HH: I feel like I heard you on a podcast talk about stage fright and that you have stage fright. How are you able to, ( it's a simple question,) overcome it. I don't think that's really the question that I want to ask. But what are the things that you say to yourself? How do you get yourself out of that?

KA: Just get over it.

Yeah, that's kind of it. Honestly, some of it's also trying to find that dance between escapism and the reality and humanity of what I'm hoping to portray in some way. So if the work requires me to be vulnerable, I can hopefully escape into a memory or a sensation related to the vulnerability that I'm hoping to portray, and that way, I'm less focused on how nervous I am about however many people are watching me, or the consideration of making mistakes. So it's funny because you're still being present, but you're not letting the anxiety of the present self, but instead, you can ideally be present in a past self or a future self, depending on the role or narrative you're hoping to embody. It makes me think about what you were just saying, responsibility. Responsibility of gaze and focus, thinking about this idea of other people watching you. But then in watching your work, how you're considering a certain possible responsibility to how a viewer is seeing you or seeing the white man that's in the space, and how are you jostling or confronting that sense of responsibility.

SL: Responsibility? I'm not sure how much I think about it. I think most about my responsibility in the writing process. And in the after process, trying to release the film and show my work to people. But in the writing process, I'm thinking about the depth of the characters and trying to show nobody as perfect, and nobody is evil, and then in the post process, or the after filming, which I hadn't really experienced until Earth Mama, and which was where I was getting at, where I was in this kind of struggle space. I made a movie called Earth Mama, which stars all black women. It's six leading black women, and I felt I had a responsibility to these people to ensure that that film got seen and people saw them. And that was so difficult, because some stuff is out of your control, and you feel like you're fighting for the people, even though they're not around. But I felt like I was fighting for every single one of those women that was in that movie. I don't know if I'm answering your question, but, that was what came up when you said, responsibility.

KA: I mean, maybe to expand upon it a little bit,from a stage perspective. So I have a work of mine called “Pavement,” which in some ways is a reimagining of John Singleton's film Boys in the Hood and the writing of W.B. Dubois “Souls of Black Folk.” And the work also has a lot of running in it, and I had to consider who was running first, who was running behind someone: gender, race, all things considered.

If let's say, for example, I'm running first and then one of the white male dancers runs behind me, or the black woman in the show is running in front of me and I'm running behind her. What narratives are people putting on that work, and how much responsibility do I choose to take or not,

HP: Because some of it's also out of your control in some ways, right?

SL: Yeah. In that respect, I feel a lot of responsibility, and I also have to just trust my intuition. When I'm writing scripts, I'm constantly questioning the choices I make and why I've made those choices, and whether I need to question that casting choice. But I guess part of it is that there haven't been that many black women filmmakers that have gotten some of the opportunities that I've gotten.

For example, making a feature film with A24. I don't know how many black women have done that, maybe like two or three? So I almost think there should be more pressure on the responsibility of other people, I feel it all the time. I also want to trust my instincts as well.

HP: I know we spoke about narrative and abstraction at dinner a few months ago. I want to hear you speak about your approach to making this film that is very much leading into abstraction, right? And a work like Earth Mama or The Heart Still Hums, which is telling a story, telling a narrative. I mean, this is, of course, telling a story too, but it maybe feels different for a viewer. What does abstraction open up for you that narrative making doesn't?

SL: This piece in particular was really important for me because it's the first piece in a really long time, maybe since the beginning of my career, that I had ownership over it.

HP: Can you spell out what that means?

SL: So I financed it, or co-financed it, and nobody was telling me what the end product should or would be. And that that was really empowering for me at that moment of releasing a movie, and having all these opinions. I was just like, Man, I have this thing that's mine, and that really is saying exactly what I wanted to say.

That sort of ownership is so rare in filmmaking. The freedom of art, fine art and other art forms, is really special. I rarely get the ability to, wake up, make a piece of art and throw it out to the world. I don't feel I have that opportunity that much. Maybe I should just start making random shit and throwing it out. So that's why this was so important for me.

And I don't know, it feels special because I made the first one during the process of releasing Earth Mama, and the second one last year, and maybe I'll make a third one this year. And it's kind of meant to be this loop that I can add to and continuously contribute to, and not feel like I'm waiting for anyone else's approval to make it. You know?

HP: Kyle, I'd love you to maybe share a bit about the commissioning process, right? Because, you're creating work with aim, but also others are asking you to make pieces for New York City Ballet, for a host of different organizations. So, how does that come up for you in terms of claiming ownership over your work as someone that is a dancer, but also as a choreographer and has a company with people that are not you, right, that are outside of your body? So, I guess I'm curious about many different things.

KA: Sure. I mean, it's all a collaborative process. Even if I make every step, I'm not the one on stage, so I've turned it over, there's a trust there established for whomever is going to perform the work or present the work. But depending on who the commissioning agent might be, if it's another company, ideally, I would have time to learn more about the company and make sure that it seems like a great space for me to be in. Because I definitely, in a very hippy dippy way, can go very energy based.

So I will choose the dancers based on how I'm vibing from them. That's a big part of it. But the ownership, it's mine, but there's certain exclusivities that apply. So if I make a work for Alvin Ailey or Royal Ballet, they'll have exclusivity for maybe three years. They may try five, but I'll try and get it down to three. And then from there, I can set it somewhere else after that. Whereas my company, I can do whatever. One of the big challenges is trying to, I try to always be aware of how much my work is being seen in any city at one time, because I don't want people to think, oh, I can skip that show because I can see him next week somewhere else. So I try to be really thoughtful about that. And also, I mean, some of it's out of my control, but it's nice to think about maybe how people are viewing a work, so are they seeing run before they see run 002 or are we okay with what they see first? So all of that, I try to be aware of and also consider what's beyond my control in that respect.

HP: Yeah, I'm interested in that. I know you wanted to ask a question about time too.

KA: I'm curious. Maybe because of being a dance maker and so much of it is time dependent, and in looking at really all of your work. But we'll focus on the two films here, how you are considering time in all the ways.

HP: And I feel like particularly [with] run 022, I mean, both of them actually, watching them back to back, it skips tim. All of a sudden, you're you, and then there's you, joined by another person in run 002.

SL: I'm really interested in, or what I was interested in exploring in this was holding on to something and making the audience just sit with these sometimes uncomfortable situations, and making a piece that was durational. For the first one, we had this idea of me running for the duration of a roll of film, and, and seeing what happens in that. And then the next one was seeing Willem and this baby for the duration of a roll of film, or however long. See what happens and see him teaching this baby to crawl. And so I was really curious, especially in thinking about, okay, in this art space, I can curate the space, and I'm also okay with people coming and going. Normally, this would be in a space, in a gallery space, and people walk and stay. And I love that about it, it plays in a loop, and might go and go and go, and someone might sit there for, I don't know, 10 loops, or they just go. They feel so uncomfortable. There's some people that felt so uncomfortable with Willem and this baby that they had to leave. And I’m really interested in making the audience participate in a way, by challenging them to sit and experience something that might make them feel uncomfortable, even though nothing's really happening, nothing dangerous is happening. Even in me running there, and there's a close up on my face that can make you feel really uncomfortable, or it can be really hypnotic.

KA: Can you talk about the fifth woman on the bench, the one who doesn't have a baby and has that downward gaze?

SL: That's so interesting. I was thinking she already had her baby taken. And it's interesting because it also weirdly relates to Earth Mama, in a way. But yeah a lot of it is almost like a machine or something…

(Indistinct chatter between Savanah and Kyle)

SL: But that also when I'm thinking about time it’s like, okay, if I'm holding on to a shot for a really long time, how can I give people things to think about? So, Oh, I'm teasing what's gonna happen next. But you might not think about it straight away. There's a lot of those little things.

HP: Mothers, mothering, motherhood comes up in your work a lot. Do you want to maybe share a bit about [this]? Me and Kyle were both interested in this.

SL: I know it's funny. I don't know. Maybe part of it is, I've been in for the past, I don't know, five years I've been in this time zone that feels like, when my mother had me.

HP: being similar?

SL: Similar age range. I never knew my father growing up, I was raised by a mom. My whole street was single moms that helped look after each other. And I've always been, when you're raised as an only child for most of your life with a single mom, it's like you become almost their partner, you go through the arguments, you go through financial discussions, you go through all these things and the funny stuff, or you hear about their relationships, or you see their relation, you see all this stuff. And part of me is also just, in awe. I'm like, how did it happen? I don't feel like I wouldn’t have made that choice. How did you do that? And so part of me is in awe of single mothers.

HP: Willem Dafoe, I'm curious how he came into the picture and, what even his grappling of the character? I mean, he's not here to speak for himself, but, I’m curious about how he occupied that role and maybe took responsibility in some ways for that type of figure.

SL: Well, I met him because he really loved Earth Mama. And I sent him the first run, and he was like, as an actor, I always tell people, acting is like running from point A to point B, it's that simple. He's the type of actor that doesn't like to think about backstory. I tried to give him backstory, I tried to give him backstory, and he was like, if you would have asked me, I would have told you not to do that.

And it was a good learning lesson for me as a director, don't just come in there with your idea of how people want to act.

And so, it was interesting. So he was really gravitating towards that as a performer. He loved the idea of the simplicity of it. And then I had this idea to bring him into it, and he was really excited about it. He liked experimentation. He's worked with Marina Abramović a few times, and he's [done] experimental theater. He's like one of the GOATs of that out here. So he's excited by it. He was on set, and when there was the line of the young kids, the kids didn't know who he was, and they were all just all over the place. And he was just loving that, he loves the chaos of experimentation and and so even, me putting my arms out and him walking around me and analyzing my body, that was a really interesting way of me getting to know him as a performer. Ryan was shooting, Ryan's my partner, and I was like, Ryan, is he a good actor? Because every time I was looking at him, he wasn't looking at me. And I was like, what is the deal with him? He's not looking at me, and I wanted some [eye contact]. And then I realized he was just doing the role of dissecting and analyzing my body, and that was what he was doing. And I was getting pissed off because I was like, he's not looking at me. So, it was interesting.

KA: I was watching your eyes at that moment too.

HP: Part of that moment felt like you guys had just done it for the first time, or [you both] were meeting for the first time. It felt there was such an organic interaction between the two of you.

SL: We hadn't met for the first time, but we got to know each other at that moment. It takes a while to move past the initial conversations. And that was a pivotal moment.

HP: You're shooting in two very sterile environments. You glossed over it. I don't know if people caught that. The first one was shot in a former morgue, and the second one, was a drug testing facility? I'm even just curious, maybe this is way too “woo, woo,” but the metaphysical experience of being in those two spaces and filming a work like that. What was that like?

SL: You're filming a moving body and a life, a space that's supposed to be for lifelessness. And there was an inherent… It was interesting in itself. And it felt uncomfortable being in this space, even putting these kids in a testing facility for pharmaceutical drugs, I think a Pfizer building. It feels uncomfortable just putting them in the space, like babies are crying. It takes a while just to get outside of the building. That's also what excites me about it, is the uncomfortability of placing actors or performers in spaces that we all go to, we maybe don't go to a morgue… but you go to a hospital setting, you go to a hospital setting, or you go to, I don't know, the DMV. It’s these spaces that are really uncomfortable physically, and you're forced, you're trying to figure it out.

And that's how I feel a lot of the time in life, I'm in an uncomfortable space and I'm trying to figure it out.

HP: That's really well said. Let me ask this last question to both of you before maybe we open it up to people who want to ask questions in the audience.

Okay. I've always felt like thinking about the young filmmaker or the young dancer in the audience that maybe is curious about what it means to choreograph a piece with 10 dancers, or what it means to make a film, a narrative film, or something that is more abstract, like run and run 002. Can you maybe share, without giving away too much, because I know that there's protection also too about the process, right? But can you maybe share a little bit about how you did what you did? I know that sounds so simple, but what are the practical things that go into making something like this? And Kyle also for you, for making a piece, right? Like making a commission. Or, creating for A.I.M, or even making a company.

SL: I’m amazed by that.

Yeah, I don't know. I'm still figuring it out. For me, it starts with writing, and coming from sports, I have this persistence and relentlessness. I don't like nos. And when I moved from sports into filmmaking, it was about, okay, I spent so much time of my life never expressing what I felt inside, and always fitting into this machine that I have to let it all out now, I have to. And anytime it doesn't feel genuine, I have to dig deeper. So it's about writing from that place, finding these little points for myself that I need to let out, or that I'm interested to experiment with or explore, and then just being ruthless about it until it comes out. I don't take that lightly, I'm struggling with that right now, but, that's not really a hack or anything, it's just persistence.

KA: Ironically, it's pretty much exactly the same. I start with writing a lot of the time. I always tell people who are new to dance that it's just like you're in science class and you're writing your hypothesis, and then you want to see if it comes true in some way. You have to try those different theories and see if it makes sense. But it's a lot of that. I'm like, oh, what happens again for a case of pavement? What happens if I make a dance about the film Boys in the Hood, but set it to music written for concerto singers, and then you just play, and then maybe it works. Or maybe it's a hot mess, and that's part of the thing.

And so maybe it's also a curiosity of when you have to abandon an idea because it's maybe not a good idea, but it was something worth trying. That's something I'm always grappling with, that inner saboteur.

HP: I have you figured that out?

KA: Maybe in some cases it's like, okay, well, maybe it's not the right idea for right now. Maybe it needs more time. So I'm a huge Prince fan, [he’s] someone who had over 400 songs in a vault. I can start a dance and put it in the vault, and then maybe come back to it at a later (another) time. Or an idea, let that idea marinate longer, and maybe it's coming back to dancers, collaborators. Maybe it's not the right collaborators to make that thing come to fruition. Maybe I need to take it to another company, which happened to me at one point. I did that by making something for the Paul Taylor Dance Company. They're a really athletic group of dancers. And I said, oh, I'm gonna make something really athletic to drums. But the sound of drums was giving me a headache, and I started thinking more about their history and what my interests were. This was, maybe, the second season of Mrs. Maisel. And I was like, I'm gonna do Shirley Horn. So I took an idea that I actually was gonna make for my company around this idea of a stand up comedian in a certain time period, like thinking about Shirley Horn, jazz vocals, and I just dissected that and put it on Paul Taylor's company. Maybe five years from now or something, I'll make another version for A.I.M. I'll come back to this idea of a stand up comic in a dance in some way, but I'm happy I made that change for sure.

HH: Beautiful. Does anyone have any questions?

Audience (Anthony Karry): Okay, you both brought up really great points of, first the gaze and then two, intentionality of what you're showing in the subject matter. So I guess what I'm personally curious about, especially without you knowing that you're going to be the subject matter of your work, is I’ve always believed, no matter what you intend to show, the gaze of what I guess the public perceives of the work is always going to leave the creator and be up to them and up to their interpretation. So I guess in your creative process, whether that started with the writing, and I guess this same question goes for you when you start with your writing versus, how do you approach your project in the midst of it. Does that hold space, the thought of the perception of the public, of how your message is going to be perceived or construed for that matter? Does that hold space within your creative process or the post production process? How does that look like for the both of you?

SL: Releasing a film or showing it in a space, I feel that's part of this process of letting go and letting it move on, and I can't control it. And that is a beautiful part of it, is [that] some people come up to me and say, man, I love what you did, that relates to this moment of my life. That's about something really random, and I'd never thought that my piece would relate to them in that way. And I'm like, okay, I love that it relates to you in that way. I don't want to explain it sometimes, because I'd rather people take whatever they need to take. So I think it's a beautiful part of it. It's difficult to transition from your control to letting go, but that is the power of art. I don't know.

KA: It makes me want to just keep asking you more questions myself. But I try to bring in different folks into the room with me. So sometimes I bring in a choreographer, like Juliana F. May, she’s more in the abstract experimental side, and then maybe someone like Camille A. Brown, whose work is on Broadway, and have them both come and see your work. And it's not about them agreeing with me, but just getting a sense of what they see, and then having to think about where my intention lies based on how they're receiving the work. That's a big part of it for me.

SL: Yeah, I have that. I remember for Earth Mama, I showed a group of people, and there was one director I invited who's got the opposite taste to me, but he's amazing, just kind of opposite. I left the room, and he was giving notes to the editor. But we recorded it, and I heard the notes afterwards. And I totally disagreed. And that felt good, because it reaffirmed the feeling I had and I needed that.

Audience: So you mentioned how when you're writing characters, you don't necessarily like them to be portrayed as good or bad in one way completely. And for my question, for this specific film, is for both the person that was spectating the body and also the person whose body was being spectated, how did you consider how to portray them in both lights?

SL: Yeah, it's tougher in a short length of time. I think this one, maybe I spent less time thinking about that and more about the physical action of it. I finished those two pieces, and then I was afterwards, I want to make another one, and I want to have two of the testers in a scene together. And so it's durational in that it never ends, and I can see where their character needs to be challenged a bit more. And then I push it next time in that direction. For example, for me, transitioning from being someone running and being analyzed, dissected, to then giving something up and seeing the baby, [then] almost challenging him. [It] feels like there's this moment where it's almost like two lions battling it out. And that is almost like a voice of me, in a way, yeah, I don't know if that makes sense, but…

Audience: Hi. I have a lot of questions. This film raised a lot of conjured love, like historical events and current events for me. I was wondering first, if, well, for both of you, for anyone, if there were any current events that you had in mind, or historical events that you had in mind during the filmmaking. Or once you saw the final product that you were like, huh, this kind of resembles this, or reminds me of this. Or if people have brought theories to you of, you know, what it reminds them of?

SL: There wasn't necessarily one specific historical event, but some of those events, kind of are in me, if that makes sense. Sometimes I don't need to think about it, I've already sat with it long enough in my life, and that comes through the works. But I will say, when I was looking at musicians for the second one, this guy named Alva Noto (it's his music name) was someone I was interested in. I think he’s in his 60s, from Eastern Germany. And he was like, Oh, you were speaking about how Eastern Germany treated their athletes. And he was talking about his parents, or his dad was injecting ice skaters or something. And I was like, that's not what I was thinking about, but it's amazing that it connects with you in that way and that's why he came on board, because it related to his experience in Germany at that time. And so there's been all these moments I’m constantly thinking about athletes and how they're dissected and analyzed and in need of and how their mental health is not focused on.

Audience (Maya Davis): Okay, I'm curious about the scoring and the auditory elements of both run and run 002, if these are intentionally, I suppose, blended. The story lines are so different, but the scoring of it seems quite related. So I'm curious about your process.

SL: Well, for the first one, I had two musicians. There's this one artist named Dialect who's British, I want to say, is from Liverpool, and has a weird sound. He's into sound design use, and into music. And I don't think he's really composed much, or anything even, but I was curious about him. I actually reached out to him for my movie, and didn't use him. But he was so perfect for this. Oh, and also I had Alexis, Studio Arp is his music name, and he was really special. Because what we were thinking about is horses running, like the feet [sound] of that. And we were thinking about the heartbeat, and we were thinking about creating noises that could feel like a drone or hypnotic in a way that also tapped us into the emotional state of me running on a treadmill. And you can kind of hear in the background the sound of metal pieces chiming together, and it's really ruffled in the background. And then for the second one, we had Alva Noto, who's a sound artist legend. I didn't realize how much of a legend he is, but he's really special. And he's this person that goes off and does something, and then you come back, and then you have this conversation. He's really interested in these deep guttural hums and how that lent itself, or created space, or how the crying of the baby contrasted with these, deep guttural sounds. And he's only composed a few things, and one of them [was with] Ryuji Sakamoto, so he has really interesting soundscapes that he works with.

Audience: I have a question for Kyle, but both of you about commissioned work specifically. Is there a way that you have found a lot of success in building trust with collaborators, especially with that type of work where you're coming into a place, you're coming into a company, or on a project where they… (I have an HR way of asking this question, a HR friendly way, yes.) So you're coming in and you're an outsider joining their process that they have put on for however long is there, if not, a shortcut to trust? Because I'm sure at this point, you're at the point of your career where you have a calling card, and they know who you are. But when you are working with a new collaborator, or group of collaborators, what is the “you gotta trust me, because I have good taste thing” that you do? I hope that made sense of the question.

KA: Yeah, it does. Part of it is an understanding that it's a daily practice on both sides. So even if we've established trust yesterday, I have no idea what happened to you on your way into the space. And so we need to approach every day with that openness and vulnerability on both sides. I usually start every rehearsal asking everyone how they're doing, because I also want to know if you're tired, it's good you tell me that up front, because that way, if the energy is off, I'd be like, what's going on? but if I know ahead of time, then I'm working with a certain kind of awareness. But yesterday, one of my dancers, after I asked them, they go, how are you doing? And I said, I actually feel if someone was to touch me in a certain spot, I'd probably start crying. But I know we have work to do, so I'm gonna try to figure out how best to be present. But that's where I'm at today. And part of it is getting that off of my spirit so that I'm not distracting myself by trying to hold back whatever it is. But having that honest approach to just checking in on people helps the process on a daily basis.

Audience: Compassion as praxis.

SL: Thank you guys so much!

[audience claps]

Thank you guys so much. Thank you so much and thank you so much. I appreciate it!

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About 5x5:

99 Canal’s annual performance and moving image series.
5 artists paired with 5 curators to present live, in-progress work with the public over the course of 5 nights.

Each collaboration is entirely self-directed, there are no fixed formats, outcomes, or expectations. It’s intentionally low-stakes, a space for open dialogue. After each event, we share selected content to extend public engagement, inviting the work to be revisited and shaped over time.

3rd edition of 5x5, 2025:

4/5:

3/5:

2/5:

1/5: