Csilla Nagy is a Hungarian dancer, choreographer and a craniosacral therapist. In 2012 she founded the Cipolla Collectiva and still manages the collective personally. We had the pleasure of working with Csilla when she was one of the visiting mentors during Oulu Dance Hack 2024.
TaikaBox: Good to see you again. How are you doing? Have you been busy?
Csilla Nagy: I’m ok. I’ve been working on reconstructing the windows in our flat.
Should we start with the Cipolla Collectiva?
Yes. Actually, I was already working before this as a freelance independent dancer, a performer. And in 2012, I decided to give it a name, you know, to not use my own name any more but to use the name of Cipolla from there on. So since then, it’s been the name, the logo, the website, and it’s interesting because now we are building a new web page and I’m going back to using my name instead of Cipolla.
The thing is that I’m doing this artistic work with the collective, but I’m also a dance teacher and a healer, I do end of life accompaniments to families. So there are a lot of different aspects, and I thought of having the new website in my name, and that would also present the collective, the healing and the teaching. I’m rethinking everything I’ve done in the last 20 years. I’m in this “how to define myself” phase.
Some of the projects shown on the Cipolla site are very interesting, showing this juxtaposition of dark humour and femininity, while being very experimental in content. Do you have a connection in all this? Is there an underlying principle or a theme you usually include?
My interest. I have a pattern, working with theatrical stuff, then doing… call it “full” dance, then again more theatre, performing art, even visual art, I say “OK” and it’s going to be really interesting, yeah. But I think my interest is about the presence, to be present. I’ve worked a lot with improvisation in the last eight years, and I use improv on stage myself. And in my latest project, the presence of me is as a part of nature.
So, my approach is that my body is built from all the elements. I’ve been doing research in the past five, six years with the elements of fire, water, earth, air and ether, and I try to think of myself that it’s nature, human and me. But it’s not that I don’t consider myself human, of course – it’s just a different approach. It’s more like embodiment work, body awareness work that I do, working with the flow of the liquid in my body, the air in me.
So, that is one research path for me. Another is the tarot. I’m using this kind of channelling technique, the Family Constellation – it’s from Germany. After the Second World War – Bert Hellinger, a German psychotherapist – realised that there were these transgenerational traumas going on. If the father had a trauma, the child could have the same problem. So the Family Constellation is a method to discover these energies between the family members, because they are there even if you don’t talk about them. So, I’m using this method in dance and in performing, channelling things and embodying them.
Usually, in the Tarot, you have cards with symbols, but I combined it with dance, so if this would be a performance you could ask a question about your career or your private life or something, and my colleague would help you to pull some cards, then read the cards and at the end I would dance the essence of the cards. So, I would dedicate a dance for you according to your question, and it’s really at the moment it’s happening, and it’s your thing, but it also holds my thing in there.
That sounds really interesting, you create an answer, an explanation from the cards to the question, creating motion.
Yes, I do. There is live music, developed with a colleague of mine using a 22-type structure – because the main Arcana has 22 cards. So, he has this structure, and when we know the essence, we know how to start, and then from there, it’s five to eight minutes of improvisation.
Is that performance ever similar to a previous one, or is it always different? 22 possibilities is a lot of stuff, but you’ll probably have a set of movements that you have found earlier to fit a certain card, like death has its movements, moon has its movements and so on.
Yeah, there are some, because I have some structures and I have some qualities or the rhythm or the tempo or the speed or the atmosphere. But what’s interesting about it is that there was at one time this man asking something, I don’t remember the question, but I’m underneath the curtain and then come out as the spirit of the Tarot – and the curtain somehow got stuck into the table, so I was really getting stuck. All by accident. And half a year later, we performed again and there was another man with another question, and this curtain accidentally again got stuck into the table, and it was not me doing it. It just happened. So that was like, wow! There are some elements already there, or that should be there. I don’t know if it’s mystical or not.
It’s creepy, but I like it, because it’s not like choreography – like when I work with a company or solo, after 18 years I’m still performing the same movement, but it’s something completely different. And the work I do, I always try to find a way to perform it today. So I always leave some space, to not have the fixed things.
You leave space to shape the dance.
Yeah, absolutely.
Can you tell me something about the fear frog?
I was working with a company called Artus Company, it’s quite well known in Hungary. And we did some research, and we always asked to bring some scenes in, bring an idea, whatever you can. So I had a lot of these glass balls that I put in my mouth. Just put a lot in and see what happens. And I was like, I’ll do my bit at the end of the hour-long piece, but this scene was just OK. It didn’t fit the piece. And I always keep those things in mind, thinking there was something there, but what? So I started to develop this scene and I realised that all these things can symbolise my fears, and maybe if I face them I can get stronger, to be able to see behind the fear. And each time is a blessing, I just have to make it feel approachable, acceptable.
I’m always looking for some relief, you know, to release something or to find something to feel better, to see the bright side of life.
When you were in Oulu, you did the craniosacral therapy session for us. Does that affect your art, or are the two separate from each other?
Oh, absolutely, like the research with the elements, the planet, and me. It’s based on craniosacral therapy, absolutely. And the last duet we created, Mystery of The Body, that’s also all about it. When I give craniosacral treatment, I do the treatment and I start to use my choreographic research that I think of as treatment in a way that we dance. So I’m giving as a dancer and you receive it as an audience. So actually we do it to each other.
You have done a fair share of collaborations as well, A Living Collection was really astounding to watch. How you mimic the art, which in itself is amazing. How did that come to happen?
Yes, well… They invited me! The concept was that they had a lot of sculptures in the gallery – not exhibited, but in storage somewhere, where people can’t visit. So, they asked eight contemporary artists to choose one of their old sculptures and create a new one that had some relation, or was inspired by the chosen piece, or something. So, they had eight old art pieces and eight new art pieces and they wanted to have some choreography in the mix, and it was interesting because… Oh, it was so many years ago. I love to perform in galleries, you know. I honestly have to say that I’m usually against a black box [performance] because there’s no daylight. And, in the gallery, time is different than in a theatre, like you go and spend an hour, OK. But sometimes I do durational performances and it can be four hours or twelve hours, and it’s different. It stretches time and you need a different kind of performing presence, and I love it. It’s interesting.
But, it was a short performance, not that long, but it was interesting to think of myself as being part of an exhibition. It’s not like a situation or storytelling or something which belongs to a theatre, even though it’s dense. It was more about the body, because of the sculptures, the figures – head, body. So I was thinking of myself more like I’m a body and being just born through time and space.
Some performers don’t like to move around sculpted art, because of the instant limitation from the sculptures, but you don’t mind doing that.
No, and I actually had another piece with more dancers. I was only choreographing, not dancing. This premiere was five years ago. We put it in the black box and I was like, something is wrong. And then they invited me again to the Hungarian National Gallery, and I saw the five dancers moving there in the gallery and said “OK, finally we found the place that’s the place for this piece, now it works.” This is what I wanted to see with the sculptures and with the paintings and with the daylight and with the whole structure of the building. So yeah, sometimes the work I do, it’s just not for the black box. But I’m not against black box altogether, because I understand that if I also use technology and special lighting, that can happen only in the dark. So for sure we also need the dark space where you can direct the lights. You can do whatever you want. We just have to keep in mind that there are technicians, a light designer, a sound designer, the whole team, you know.
Actually, before I came to Oulu, I had a premiere with Central Europe Dance Theatre, and I made this piece I just mentioned, the gallery one, but I put it back in a black box. And because the light designer was so fantastic, I was just like, “OK, now we found the version of my piece in the black box with this light you’ve designed, this piece can go here, this there…” I really wanted her to design the lights for the piece. She’s a really interesting person, Mercédesz. She doesn’t talk a lot, but she’s sensitive and smart and quick. I was so amazed by her the first time I worked with her. I got a new belief in a black box because of her.
What other interesting venues have you performed in or choreographed for that haven’t been black boxes?
Two years ago we made a dance film two years ago in the French Alps. It’s called Alchemy. That was the moment when I was dancing in nature and that was my stage, my theatre. The French director, Thibaut Ras, was really amazing. His idea was to minimise any post-filming edit, to get everything in-camera. So, he’s improvising with the camera, and I’m improvising with the dance. Some places we spent maybe a half an hour or so to get used to the space. And then we’d film, maximum three takes, maybe just the one, and we go for a few minutes. And it was closer to going on stage to perform than making a film. He played with the frame, directing what he chose to show to the audience. Sometimes I’m in the frame, sometimes a bird is more interesting than me, and I liked that, to give the full role of directing to him.
I worked with him twice, and it was really amazing. And sustainable as well – I’ve danced for big American and Hungarian films, and it’s three days of shooting and then one second on screen. A waste of money and time. And with this French guy, it’s absolutely OK to go and just do. Sometimes it’s not the best, but they say that’s it, and next time, it might be better. He has really nice films.
I think that the power of the first takes in both cinema and music is sometimes underrated. Not everything has to be all polished – recordings with little edges and mistakes are more interesting. And, of course, when you improvise, your performance is essentially a first take.
Yeah, you may have some elements in there that are rehearsed, but then in between, there’s always the risk that you are going to stumble in your own feet at one point because you have rehearsed that this is how it goes. Can I jump over that chair? Well, let’s find out. So the risk gives it some meaning to me.
Somehow I can relate this to the role I had as a mentor in Oulu Dance Hack. I’m there, and I don’t know what, I mean, what? What to do and how to say it nicely? Because I’m improvising, sometimes moving, and that means I’m listening a lot, you know? Do I take action? I listen and try to feel how the space and the audience resonate after my actions. So I have to be really open to receive, not only to give. I think this is somehow connected to this role of the mentor, observing, being there, ready for action if needed. I think, for mentorship, it’s good to have this experience of improvising.
We talked about the roles of mentors – what is a mentor, how should it best be done? I wasn’t sure what kind of a mentor presence you wanted from us, what kind of parameters are there? How does a mentor get oriented in the situation? Talking with Jussi was very useful – he described some particular examples when something worked or didn’t, but because each of us has a different mentality, it’s not easy.
This somehow connects to your healer role, in the sense of being active when it’s being asked from you and otherwise listening, performing, passive mentoring. That’s the interesting part, since all three of you probably saw the mentorship a little differently.
After Andreea was ill for the first few days and then got back, she observed very keenly outside the scenes and then gave feedback – and that feedback was really, really useful and smart, and also kind. For those few days she was with us, I think she has a good eye for this sort of thing. And she has this really nice mentality, it was easy to accept, you know? If you give feedback from the outside, it might crash – it could land in a bad space. When you’re in a process as an artist and you get something from outside, it might confuse you or make you feel it’s not alright – “leave me alone, why do you speak”? But she was so calm and so nice when she said something. Myself, as an artist, if someone tries to instruct me, I can be really against it, but she had this nice – I don’t know, soft? – mentality to say things, which were easy to receive. I don’t know about the other artists, but this is something I noticed.
I think it’s fairly common that when, as an artist and with your peers instead of a director, someone comes and gives you advice – it’s like, “how come you are in a position to give me advice?” It’s not as if you have authority for that, in a sense. So yeah, you have to be very careful handling that situation, and that is a good skill to have.
So, apart from redoing windows and rebuilding your website, what else are you up to?
I’m performing a duet with a colleague of mine, about the mystery of the body. A while back, I told myself I want to dance pieces which are good for my body. For example, I dance the choreography, and if I feel better the next morning getting up, I keep that piece. And if I feel worse, I cancel, because I’m over 40 years old and I would like to dance when I’m 80 years old, except only the performances that treat my body in a good way.
And this duet is really the piece after the performance – for a few days, I feel super young and fresh and wow, also emotionally as well as physically. I mentioned that for 18 years doing the Butterfly Ballad by Klári Pataky, I’ve been the dancer, not the choreographer. And the choreographer gave this whole solo to a young director and told him to do whatever he wants with it. So, I met this young theatre director, and we talked a lot, trying to do something about the choreography. If I want, I can dance the way I did it when I was 20 something. But I have this goal of feeling better instead of worse, and I don’t need any pain and injuries… So we are trying to find a way to represent this old solo – which is OK for my body, but also try to find something new and fresh and experimental and interesting for the director, and for the public. I’m currently, as ever, often just sitting in front of the computer and applying for funding.
Is there anything else you’d like to add to our chat?
Just that… I was happy to be in Finland. I’ve never been to Finland before. It was really refreshing and calming and grounding me. I’m happy that it wasn’t in Helsinki, but in a small town and – you know, I don’t like big cities. I’ve travelled a lot in my life from New York to Mumbai and Malaysia and Kuala Lumpur, whatever. I prefer small places and small groups of people. And nature, yeah. I love nature.
Csilla Nagy was chatting online with Pasi Pirttiaho
