Kitty McNamee, Shining a Light

It’s not every contemporary choreographer who is able to cross over into directing large-scale opera. But that’s precisely what Kitty McNamee has done. Indeed, after choreographing six works for Los Angeles Opera—beginning in 2005 with “Romeo and Juliet”—the energetic blonde makes her directorial debut in November, when the company mounts six performances of the same opera that was originally helmed by Ian Judge.

Kitty McNamee. Photograph by Nate Lusk

But for those who have known her, McNamee’s talents have long been on display in Los Angeles, where she founded Hysterica Dance Co. in 1997, with Dance Magazine having declared her to possess “an outsize talent for that most elusive gift, originality.” And it was through Hysterica that she was not only able to fully express her vision, but also help redefine dance in Los Angeles.

Making use of raw, explosive movement, while simultaneously exposing the underbelly of pop culture through catwalk-worthy costuming and mind-warping music, McNamee wrapped her works in a kind of contemporary choreography that spoke to a society that felt ever more alienating.

And it was, in fact, her unique approach to direction and choreography that also led her into filmmaking, with her dance films having screened at more than 50 festivals worldwide. She’s also snagged numerous awards, including Best Experimental Short at the Paris Independent Film Festival in 2017, Best Experimental Short Film at the 2018 Santa Cruz International Film Festival, and the Audience Choice Award at the Door Kinetic Arts Festival in 2021.

An artist, a creator and most importantly, a collaborator, McNamee has also had a long and fruitful relationship with the Los Angeles Philharmonic, where she choreographed, directed and developed new productions, including for Esa-Pekka Salonen’s “Wing on Wing, “The Rite of Spring,” “The Firebird,” and more.

Other works include the ballet, “Rift,” commissioned by Cabrillo Festival of Contemporary Music and the Kennedy Center, and the creation of the new ballets, “Traces” and “Transit” for the National Choreographer’s Initiative, as well as “colony” for Los Angeles Ballet’s Next Wave Series. In addition, McNamee was commissioned by the Stage Directors and Choreographers Society’s Abbott Awards to make “The Farewell,” a work inspired by Agnes de Mille.

McNamee moves easily between her work for the stage, where her choreography has been seen in such theater pieces as “Sense and Sensibility” (South Coast Repertory), “The Fantasticks” (Pasadena Playhouse), and “Midsummer Night’s Dream” (the LA Phil/Disney Hall), and commercial campaigns for Target, Mercedes Benz and Uniglo. The fiendishly busy creator has also received grants from the Annenberg Foundation, New Music USA, LA County Arts Commission and the National Endowment for the Arts, among others.

Fjord caught up with McNamee by phone between rehearsals for “Romeo and Juliet,” with topics including her journey from founding a dance company and her foray into filmmaking, to directing and choreographing a mainstage production at Los Angeles Opera.

Hysterica Dance Co.'s “Rapture.” Dancers: Mecca Vazie Andres Tara Avise Brooks, Dominic Chaiduang, Scott Hislop and Nina McNeely, photo by Jeaneen Lund. Photograph by Jeaneen Lund

Let’s go back to your Hysterica days, which formally ended in 2009, but you continued doing several shows through 2014. Having personally covered you since 1998, I felt that you not only had the coolest dancers—Grammy-nominated, Emmy winning choreographer, Ryan Heffington, for example, and choreographer/director Nina McNeely, who recently helmed Doja Cat’s video, “Paint The Town Red”—and über-sexy costumes, but your choreography and use of music was always so exciting, as well. What was your process—steps, music or idea first?

The idea came first, then music, then steps. I loved to mosh different styles of music: Putting something classical against Kate Bush, [for example], that was one of my favorite things to do. But definitely, the idea was first, then I would select the music and then I would typically pull images. For “Sticks & Stones” [2002], I was working with people I had at the moment. That piece was very current; Ryan danced and I used Grey Ant, Greg [Krajecki’s] fashion line.

For “Victorious” [2004], I was working off images from Egon Schiele, and also looking at Victorian images of women. I was drawing from those two points of view and again, moshing them. Also, working with particular dancers in the company gave me so much inspiration.

It was a long time ago, but what’s exciting to me, the whole community has stuck together. We’re all kind of on this journey together. Even though the company doesn’t exist, and I’m not making work, I think out of that company, and I don’t mean to sound egotistical, but the work I did with people is kind of still living on. It’s filtered down to Ryan, Nina and their work, and [choreographer/actress/dancer] Denna Thomsen into her work. It feels like there are ripples of it that are still rippling.

People would say I’m the godmother of this new contemporary dance in L.A.—that a big thing for me has been mentoring all those people. I’m glad they don’t say grandmother—that’s a whole other thing!

Yes, godmother, I agree! I’m wondering how has having had a dance company helped with your opera career and do you hire the dancers for the many operas you’ve choreographed?

I do hire the dancers for the opera, but for this production of “Romeo and Juliet,” it’s the chorus that’s dancing. But I do what I did for Hysterica: get a mix of people, so everybody’s represented. The styles of dance are demanded by the production. They may need classical dancers for one production, and for [last season’s] “Turandot,” we needed acrobats with special skills. But I try to represent what the world is like here in L.A., or the way the world looks everywhere, and incorporate that into the casting.

My work with Hysterica absolutely did help. I understood how to do everything: I cast the shows, I produced the shows; we did not have a stage manager. I coordinated the costumes and had Ryan making them. I did all of the jobs I’d done at the opera on a very small scale, so I was prepared for the collaborative experience that happens in the opera. It’s important, because it’s this glorious scale that they’re operating on.

I knew a longer format, but back then, you would make a five-minute piece, a 10-minute piece, and that would be it. But I understood the trajectory of storytelling over time. That’s what really helped me the most.

Your first gig with LAO was choreographing “Romeo and Juliet,” in 2005. What initially attracted you to the art form?

I stumbled into opera, honestly. My friend Sergio Trujillo was supposed to do the original “Romeo and Juliet,” but he got a Broadway show and recommended me. I was totally hooked after that first experience. It’s like a magnified version of what I would do with Hysterica—using music and bodies to make these long-form experiences, only now we have singers who could take that musical experience up to another level that I couldn’t have imagined.

In the dance world, only in my mind’s eye could I imagine the scale of these productions. What I really love about opera is all of these elements—the music, the costumes, the singing, the movement—everything coming together, making this immersive experience.

Kitty Mcnamee in rehearsal with L.A. Ballet. Photograph by Erich Koyama

It’s such an iconic story, and, in this case, it’s a period piece with a gorgeous score by Charles Gounod. But everyone knows how “R & J” ends, so what was your take on the story, what choices did you make as a director?

My approach is maybe through a different lens. I’m really focused on Juliet and the sense that throughout this story, it’s really her ability to gain some kind of agency. Despite the culture and the situation—the strictures then are more confining than now—Juliet has to find a way to pierce through this patriarchal system and [find] some kind of hope.

Through finding her agency, it’s tragic, yes, but that’s my lens, and that’s informing how I’m seeing the other characters. I was so lucky to have this production to choreograph as my first opera. Then LA Opera gave me this opportunity to take over the production. It’s like a gift.

Storytelling has also been fundamental in working with the LA Phil and Symphonies for Youth, programs for kids ages 5-11. You directed and choreographed “The Rite of Spring” in 2019 and “The Firebird,” which was performed last year at Walt Disney Concert Hall. What were those experiences like?

For “Rite,” I used Bhavana Reddy, a classically trained Kuchipudi dancer to be the Chosen One, and I had the rest of the cast work on contemporary and hip-hop. We followed a rough narrative of “Rite,” but because it was for families, we had to dance slightly around the sacrifice, and make it a bit more accessible for people who live in L.A. It wasn’t a straight ballet or contemporary piece; it was a blending of styles and having a fresh take on it. But having the core of that incredible music was super exciting.

For “Firebird,” it was a bit more of a narrative, a little 18-minute playlet based on the story of “The Firebird.” We did a two-part thing—one-part playlet, to get them into the story and introduce the characters, the other part was completely danced through. This is post-Covid, so I don’t know if the kids had been so suppressed for so long, or if they responded to the casting or the blend of hip hop with more gestural stuff. But the vocabulary wasn’t too far from what kids would see on MTV or on videos, and the kids went nuts. The audience in that Hall was on fire!

Indeed! So, where does filmmaking enter the picture? Was the idea of making films a natural one for you?

The idea of making films is something I was always interested in, even pre-pandemic. I liked the idea of being able to capture something and not have it evaporate. That was my first impulse. You could have video of it, but it’s not the same. If I could create something that’s meant to be captured, it would last forever.

When you’re choreographing for dancers, you’re directing, and basically figuring out how to use the camera or getting good collaborators, which I did. My first film was, The Yellow Room—a duet literally shot in one room with one lightbulb. We shot it at a place called Wet—it does fountain design and water design—they had these giant concrete rooms, so we just shot it there.

Los Angeles Opera performing “Romeo & Juliet” in 2011. Photograph by Robert Millard

And speaking of collaborators, you began working with Dance Camera West on L.A. Pops Up, a traveling program of curated dance films created by more than 30 of L.A.’s most influential choreographers.

Yes, we’re taking dance films made by L.A. choreographers and dancers—Nina [McNeely], Tony Testa, Jasmine Albuquerque—and popping up around the world. We’re popping up in Bulgaria, [in a program] called “Moving Body.” We curated a program [of] 14 films for them that’s about 70 minutes.

Every program is different. We’re planning an event in the early spring in Budapest. We’re also meeting with the Wallis [Annenberg Center for the Performing Arts] about doing an event there. We’re all still friends and we all support each other.

You’ve also been working on dance centric documentaries, including Elegy, a nearly 10-minute film with Zak Ryan Schlegel, who, with Denna Thomsen founded Congress, a dance salon that serves as a platform for cross-genre movement artists. It was shot in Taos, New Mexico, and Zak did the choreography.

Yes, I also mentor him—but he doesn’t really need mentoring. I hired Zak for his first job more than 10 years ago. He and Denna have been together ever since. They’re the most loyal, they’re able to articulate, [and] they understand the trajectory of the dance world. They understand legacy, and this generational aspect of things being handed down and supporting the next generation [and also] honoring the people that brought them forward.

Then there’s your choreography for commercials, including a 2017 Target ad with plus-size ballerina Lizzy Howell. And your latest feature film is Goodrich, starring Michael Keaton and Mila Kunis, directed by Hallie Meyers-Shyer, daughter of rom-com queen, Nancy Meyers.

Yes, Lizzy doesn’t have a typical dancer’s body, so I was working with her and making her feel comfortable and making it a positive experience. That was my favorite [commercial] experience.

Goodrich just came out and I worked with Michael and Mila. She was awesome, and when they came into the room, I told them what we were looking for. “Let’s do it,” he said, and he just did it. The whole tone on that set was very positive, which came from the director.

Still from Kitty McNamee's Elegy, with Zak Ryan Schlegel and Aika Doone

Having watched you over your career, I must say that I miss Hysterica, but I can see that your core network of dancers and choreographers is having a broad reach, which begs the question: What do you think of the state of contemporary dance today?

I’m excited! I think today’s dancers can do anything. There was a phase where contemporary dance kind of stumbled into this thing where it felt good—or I should say crumbled. If people did something and it felt good, they thought that was something that could be presented to an audience; or [it was] about how it felt in their bodies and [was] less about connecting with people who were watching. I think it’s shifted again. There’s a real hunger to connect again this way.

To that end, what advice do you have for aspiring choreographers, or for dancemakers who might wish to move into directing operas?

I would say, “Make as much work as you can. Make it, show it, and keep moving on.” If you’re aspiring to work in the opera, it might not be a bad idea to get into the world and see if you can find a way to get a handle into how that world operates and move forward from that.

And finally, Kitty, where do you see yourself in the next five to ten years?

I would love to continue directing opera, I would love to continue directing films. Those are my two main interests right now—and moving into possibly more commercial film things in addition to my passion projects, [like] Elegy, and things I’m developing on my own, especially biographical documentary dance projects. Shining a light on these incredible artists making dance feels alive for me.

Victoria Looseleaf

Victoria Looseleaf is an award-winning, Los Angeles-based international arts journalist who covers music and dance festivals around the world. Among the many publications she has contributed to are the Los Angeles Times, the New York Times, Dance Magazine and KCET’s Artbound. In addition, she taught dance history at USC and Santa Monica College. Looseleaf’s novella-in-verse, Isn't It Rich? is available from Amazon, and and her latest book, Russ & Iggy’s Art Alphabet with illustrations by JT Steiny, was recently published by Red Sky Presents. Looseleaf can be reached through X, Facebook, Instagram and Linked In, as well as at her online arts magazine ArtNowLA.

comments

Featured

REVIEWS | Karen Hildebrand

An Evening with Omar

A duet featuring the choreographer himself was an unexpected treat when Boca Tuya, founded in 2018 by Omar Román de Jesús, took the stage at 92NY last week. De Jesús is a scintillating model for the liquid, undulating movement style that flows through all three works of the evening.

Event | By Penelope Ford

Dance Critics' Festival

Designed to look at the process and art of writing dance criticism, this one-day event will feature panel discussions with Fjord Review writers, audience Q&A sessions, a conversation with a special guest choreographer, and networking reception.

FREE ARTICLE

INTERVIEWS | Victoria Looseleaf

Dreaming with Jawole Willa Jo Zollar

Creating Urban Bush Women forty years ago—after having had a dream about her parents—Jawole Willa Jo Zollar may have stepped down as artistic director from the women-centered group dedicated to telling stories of the African diaspora through traditional and modern Africanist dance forms, but she’s busier than ever.

REVIEWS | Rachel Howard

Balanchine's America

George Balanchine loved American culture because he loved America. He had lived through tyranny and chaos as a boy in the Russian Revolution, and though his displays of affection for his adopted homeland could border on silly (like the Western bolo ties he favored as fashion statements), he never took for granted the possibilities he found here, never stopped extolling America’s freshness and energy.