I should have had more naughty experiences: Stephanie Lake wishes she hadn’t been so obedient

A collaboration with fashion label Alpha60 promises to heighten the visual impact of Stephanie Lake’s new dance work. When VISTA hits the stage, expect a sharp-looking ensemble of dancers.

The acclaimed choreographer has worked with most of Australia’s dance companies, created music videos and is resident choreographer with the Australian Ballet. She describes VISTA as a dance in two halves; precise and black and white in the first act, while act two “detonates into colour”. With just six dancers, it’s a marked shift from the epic scale of works she’s toured internationally, including Colossus (50 dancers) and Manifesto (nine drum kits).

“I wanted to strip it right back,” she says. “No set, no choirs, no drummers.”

Worst habit?
I am a bit of a procrastinator. Which is a little contradictory because I’m also extremely decisive and hardworking. I think I’m just an optimist. I know that I do my best work at the last minute.

Greatest fear?
I’m not good with heights. I’ve only discovered that recently. I think of myself as pretty brave, but a few years ago we went to a treetop adventure park. The kids were younger then and I said, “Oh, I’ll go up after you, I’ll follow you”, thinking I’m going to be the protector and this might be scary for them. Of course, they scampered up and ran off with absolutely zero fear, and I was nearly crying, it was so embarrassing. I couldn’t go down, I had to walk across the ropes and I had a physiological response when my knees actually vibrated, like when people say your knees turn to jelly.

The line that has stayed with you?
I love that Margaret Atwood line: “You become a writer by writing. There is no other way. So do it. Do it more. Do it again. Do it better. Fail. Fail better.”

You could replace the word writing with choreography. I like the practicality of that when it comes to a creative field because we sometimes glorify the creative process as if it’s something magical or spiritual, and often it’s just keeping on working and pushing through doubt.

Biggest regret?
I do have slight regret at not being a bit naughtier when I was younger, because you can’t get those years back. It’s not the same when you’re in your 50s or 60s. I was just a good, well-behaved, obedient girl and as I get older, I think maybe I should have had a few more naughty experiences. Perhaps just the usual sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll. The naughtiest I got was when I was pulled over by the police because I had my head out of the sunroof of my friend’s van. It must have been a slow night in Launceston.

I was about 16, and it had been my friend’s birthday. We’d had a cake and were really hyped up on sugar. I had my head out the sunroof, and I was waving to people and going “woo-hoo”, high on chocolate cake. I even had to go to court! For protruding from a moving vehicle. That was my charge.

Tell us about your turning point …
Pursuing dance at 19 years old, instead of studying something else at university. That’s quite old for a person in dance, but I plonked myself on the doorstep of Tasdance, the professional dance company in Launceston, and was there when they arrived on Monday morning, and I said: “I’d love to do some kind of apprenticeship. I’ll sweep your floors, do your faxing, anything.” I ended up performing with the company, touring with them and teaching. I just think it was such an audacious thing to take that chance.

The artwork or song you wish was yours?
The Rite of Spring by Pina Bausch. It floored me. I’d seen it on video and studied it at school, but I got to see it live in Hong Kong because the Pina Bausch company from Germany was touring there at the time. It is full of anguish and anger and pleading and just full of emotion.

I come from a background of a more abstract, cool contemporary version of dance. This was hyper-theatrical, really emotionally stirring and the staging was so amazing. There were literally tonnes of dirt on the stage and the dancers ended up covered in dirt and sweat and grime.

If you could time travel, where would you go?
It brings tears to my eyes to think about it, but I’d go back to when my kids were little, to feel their chubby little wrists again, because they’re adults now. I just think when you’re a young parent you’re so tired and busy, and it’d be amazing to go back.

VISTA is at Melbourne’s Malthouse Theatre from July 22 and Sydney’s Carriageworks from August 5.