More Than Dance with Chris Bordenave

But Chris found there was a disconnect between the concert world he grew up in and the audience of 2018. He wanted to by pass all the norms, peform in a 360 space, interact with the audience, and showcase dancers of all shapes, size, age and race. Create something that an audience of today, can relate and connect to in a way they havent been able to before.

Interview and photos by Caitlan Hickey

What is your roll at No)one. Art House?

I curate all of our events which are usually movement based instillations, throughout Los Angeles. Our presentations aren’t in theaters or conventional spaces where dance is usually scene, [they’re in] warehouses, galleries, museums, or events we are hired for and I will kind of dictate how the movement is seen. I also arrange educational components, where we’ll invite choreographers or dancers from out of town to come and teach people apart of our community and seeking knowledge about contemporary dance on a global scale.

I’ve noticed you refer to No)one’s performances as movement rather than a dance, is that strategic?

Ha, it is, because when people think of dance, they think about whatever preconceived notion they have it. I feel like a lot of people now associate it with ‘So You Think You Can Dance’ or music videos or ballet, and there are just a lot of other ways to see dance.

I’ve found dance companies are kind of failing in the US right now because the government doesn’t support it, and because it feels like people have lost touch with dance. So I don’t think they know how to consume it anymore.

That was a big part of the reason we’ve chosen not to perform in theaters. I feel like now in 2018 people need to need to interact with it, like the way they are able to interact with it on their phones, on Instagram, so I think when people can be closer to it, more immersed in it, they understand it better, it effects them in a different way and they end up wanting more.

Yea it seems like a lot of your performances can be viewed 360..

I mean seeing dance in a theater, on a pristine stage, is amazing but it also costs a lot of money! If there’s no funding you have to be creative in how you present it.

How do you get funding for your projects?

Ha, we don’t! At this point people reach out and commission us. But in the beginning, it was just asking around, people that would donate space to us, dancers willing to work for free to get us off the ground but now that people know who we are, they’ve been reaching out for us to perform and provide us with a budget. I’ve never applied for a grant. After hearing from friends that have done it, it’s this long tedious process and a lot of the time, people that are very talented and produce great work won’t get it because of the way they describe their work and the people receiving that grant information don’t understand the language. And then you see people that do get these grants and the way they describe their work is so eloquent and imaginative - then you see the work it’s not up to par. I have this issue with over intellectualizing this art that we’re making. You can have all the words but if people don’t connect when they see it, what’s the point?

Would you describe yourself as a visual artist rather than a performance artist?

I guess that’s where the ‘curator’ part comes in because yes, one can create a performance with lighting and costumes on a stage but I feel like when you curate a whole experience it allows the viewer to see it in that 360 way you were talking about. What is the audiences experience as soon as they walk into the space, what do they see? How does the dancer interact with them? The whole time you are in this world that we create, its curated. It’s specifically designed to entertain the viewer from entry to exit. I have been juggling with this idea of performance vs visual art, especially in a gallery space, I feel like there’s this really big gap between concert dance and performance art that isn’t acknowledged.

I noticed you include all shapes, sizes and ages in your performances...

I think there’s a preconceived notion in the dance world and outside of the dance world that dancers are always thin, white, young. I’ve been really intrigued with seeing older people dance, the knowledge and wisdom that they carry in their body, you can’t replicate that in a younger dancer. And also just seeing people of color, people who aren’t rail thin, it gives your eye more to think about and connect with.

Where do you find inspiration?

I’m a very musical person, I love listening to music and being called to dance from that. Spaces have been very inspiring, I think that’s another reason I don’t like performing in theaters, unconventional spaces have more to work with, more to grab from to inspire the dance.

How has it been working with Solange?

Great. I really respect her taste and her attention to the full picture. She makes her performance more than her, she makes it a whole experience. She brings this kind of fine art aesthetic into her work. She appreciates and references people in visual art, architecture, dance, she has a more worldly view with what she’s doing rather than just selling a product. I recently worked on a dance film for her along side another choreographer and although it’s a collaboration she definitely has a clear vision of what she wants in terms of direction. I respect that.

Art

LIA LIA by Iga Drobisz

Your work often explores intimacy and vulnerability. How do you create a safe and authentic environment for your subjects during a shoot?

The past few months, I’ve been working on two series of photographs: nudes of women in their own apartments and portraits of women before and after giving birth. Both series involve capturing them in deeply personal spaces—bedrooms or nurseries—where they feel at ease.

Shooting in their spaces, in their own beds, plays a crucial role in creating comfort. I choose film and cameras that show them in a way they find beautiful and empowering, emphasizing softness and warmth. It's a stark contrast to modern, hyper-detailed phone cameras that sometimes reveal more than one wants to see.

Your photography has a distinct emotional depth and texture. How do you approach the interplay of light, color, and composition to achieve this?

My process is highly intuitive. I’ve never formally studied photography or apprenticed under anyone—I learned by experimenting and seeing what felt right. It’s about trusting my instincts rather than adhering to rigid rules.

What role do personal experiences or cultural influences play in shaping the stories you tell through your images? Many of your photographs feel deeply narrative.

Growing up, I was surrounded by great cinematography. My grandmother had a TV, but my mom only brought home VHS tapes—films with substance. I think that exposure shaped how I see the world, how I approach subjects, and the narrative depth in my work.

What role does spontaneity play in your shoots? Do you leave room for improvisation, or is everything carefully planned?

To balance spontaneity and structure, I go in with a clear plan and strong direction, but I remain open to surprises. It’s about letting the subject feel like the shoot is about them, not me. That openness often leads to the most unexpected, meaningful moments.

What inspired the shoot with singer LIA LIA? How did it come together?

Collaborating with Ruby and Naomi always takes me out of my comfort zone in the best way. For this shoot, we wanted to transform someone with an iconic face but also someone like Lia—someone with a clear sense of self.

Giving her a completely new look was exciting; it brought an unexpected energy to the set. The approach was playful and experimental. The night before, I had no idea what wigs Ruby would bring or what colors Naomi might choose. It was a beautiful mix of spontaneity and collaboration.

What inspires you the most?

Movies and music are big inspirations for me, as well as the work of other photographers like Carlijn Jacobs, Harley Weir, Rineke Dijkstra, Charlotte Wales, and Nan Goldin.

What emotions or truths are the hardest for you to express through your art, and why?

I don’t think I consciously try to express specific emotions when I work. Instead, I follow what feels right in the moment—what draws me in or excites me that day. It’s less about a deliberate expression and more about letting intuition guide the way.

Art

Luna Luna: Surrealist Spectacle Lands in New York

November 21, 2024

In the 1980s, André Heller, an Austrian artist, singer-songwriter, and former actor, was looking for a new place to showcase his art. He had already taken to gardens, creating a colorful, surrealistic character using 40,000 flowers, and to the skies, organizing a 'fire theatre,' which involved an over-the-top fireworks show complete with steel-frame sculptures set on fire. But he had never tried out a fair.

So began "Luna Luna." Created as the world's first art carnival, "Luna Luna" combined the spectacular with the absurd, showcasing original rides and attractions from rising and already-at-the-top artists in Hamburg. Nearly forty years since its debut, followed by foiled plans for a worldwide tour, breached contracts, and 44 storage containers, the art fair has finally returned, calling New York home after re-debuting last year in Los Angeles.

By Hailey Johnson
Photography by Delvin Claro and Sabrina Sarnitz, courtesy of Luna Luna LLC

On a recent evening in Hudson Yards, a small carousel featured characters in quirky, Twister-like poses and an outstretched dog with seven legs. (Almost a century old, the rides are no longer rideable.) Goofy wooden sculptures were elevated in another corner, some of them cross-eyed or with a horn for a nose. A geodesic dome glowed, with Gregorian chants hovering somewhere above it.

"It's an art experience like no other," Michael Goldberg, Chief Experience Officer of Luna Luna, said recently. "People get to see artists do things they've never done before," he added.

Goldberg, founder of Something Special Studios, a creative agency behind many Nike campaigns, was determined to resurrect “Luna Luna” after reading about it online in 2019. Goldberg shopped for investors, eventually teaming up with DreamCrew, a media company co-owned by the rapper Drake. (Details on the company's investment remain vague; sources have reported that DreamCrew spent over "100 million dollars.") In 2022, an intensive restoration process began, with a team of artists reviving many of the original works, which had remained in boxes in a Texas warehouse for over thirty years. Several had been in pieces. (The team reportedly had to rebuild each work "bolt by bolt.")

That night, at the Shed, fourteen out of the original thirty-five works were on display, including the small carousel (Keith Haring), the goofy sculptures (Kenny Scharf), the neon dome (Salvador Dali), and a towering Ferris wheel decorated in drawings of stick figures, upside crowns, and references to Jim Crow (Basquiat). Missing works are in a "constant state of restoration," Goldberg said. Meanwhile, new attractions are joining the line-up. For the New York show, the Puerto Rican duo Poncilí Creación was commissioned to create "PonciliLand," a blink-and-you-miss-it section where guests "can create fantastical characters out of custom building blocks." Poncili also developed floating characters, inspired by performers who circulated the original “Luna Luna” fairgrounds in 1987. Known as "Lovers," the two characters, large and dreamlike, teetered to one side, mumbling the kind of nervous groans one does before a fall. (They never ended up falling.)

I asked Goldberg if, given that today's culture doesn't quite look or feel the same way as it did in 1987, there was any hesitation in showing some of the original works. On a back wall, a tribute featured Manfred Diex's "Palace of the Wind," a show featuring performers who fart into a microphone; on another, two ornate pedestals held sculptures of spiral poop.

"I don't see any reason why we wouldn't show any of these works," he said. "A lot of the time, art is exclusive and uninviting. The big difference between “Luna Luna” and other art experiences is that it has many sides to it, and things that have a bit of humor and playful energy. "As for "Palace of the Winds,” the decision to keep it was simple: farting is universal. He went on: "The “Crap Chancellery" is, conceptually, one of the most important works in “Luna Luna.” Daniel Spoerri's dad was killed in the Holocaust, and the work was inspired by Albert Speer, who was Hitler's architect. He took the facade of what was meant to be a Nazi shrine and turned it into the facade of a bathroom with two steaming statues of shit standing on the outside. These works are extremely important and are things that we would definitely want to honor and draw attention to."

As “Luna Luna” further develops, the show will likely change. "It will continue to evolve as we go to different cities in response to the spaces that we pop up into and in collaboration with the local city," Goldberg said." With it, there will be new characters and new stories to tell. One aspect that won't change, though, as Goldberg assured, is a long-held sentiment about a potential partnership. At one point, early on during the original “Luna Luna” era, McDonald's wanted to buy into it. Heller said no, adding that he "didn't want it to feel like Disneyland." Goldberg agreed. Nonetheless, as I watched Kenny Scharf's dizzying swing ride go around for what felt like the hundredth time, with the cartoon characters decorated on it blurring together (one with a villain's grin, another morphed into a martini glass), I couldn't help but feel like maybe I was at Disneyland, only not as robbed, but just as entertained and exhausted by its rides and fantastical characters, and wanting to go again.

Luna Luna, Hamburg, Germany, 1987.

Art

Pamela Sneed’s Speaking Tongue opens at Dashwood Projects

November 15, 2024

Pamela Sneed’s latest exhibition, Speaking Tongue, will be on view at Dashwood Projects from November 20 to December 21. The show features twenty watercolor and ink paintings inspired by her recent trip to Kenya, where she was deeply moved by the elegance of giraffes, the landscapes, and the energy of Nairobi.

Blending her background as a poet and visual artist, Sneed’s work reflects on themes of identity, nature, and connection. Her paintings capture the beauty and spirit of the animals she encountered, alongside reflections on her own experiences as part of the African diaspora.

This exhibition marks Sneed’s first solo show with Dashwood Projects and will be accompanied by a new book, also titled Speaking Tongue, to be released in December.