Kati Kallio is one of the Finnish pioneers of contemporary dance film. SInce the early 2000s her films (eg. Ode to Age, 2024; Walks With Me, 2021) have toured international festivals, receiving recognition from both professionals and the public. Through her curatorial and pedagogical work in Finland and abroad, Kati supports greater accessibility and better working conditions for dance film artists. We talked with Kati about the state of Finnish dance film today, both locally and internationally. What are the strengths and vulnerabilities of the art form? Project after project, what keeps Kati interested in dance filmmaking?
You have stated the following: “Dance film is a perfect and diverse union of two strong art forms. It is an art form that transcends language barriers and genres. It is democratic, accessible and continuously fascinating.” What made you initially fall for dance film?
My friend, filmmaker Mika Ailasmäki, made a video projection for one of my stage works (SINE, 2005). After that successful collaboration, he simply suggested that next we should make a film. I thought “why not”. This was sometime in 2007. At that time, I had no idea what it was like to make a film. When Mika and I finished the film (Breath), to my surprise, it turned out pretty much how I had imagined in my mind. That is when I discovered dance film as an art form that works for me. I somehow understood the logic of creating cinematic narrative, using visual storytelling and the magic of telling stories through movement. I fell in love with the art form.
Around that time, we also had a dance collective called MAD Tanssimaisterit. There were four of us choreographers in it: Hanna Pajala-Assefa, me, Mia Malviniemi and Katariina McAllister. We were a collective but also working as independent choreographers. By that time, dance film or dance video had started to emerge as an art form in Finland. There were a few of us that wanted to make films, and then we simply got on with it and started making them. We founded the Loikka Festival in Helsinki (running from 2008-2018) – because there had to be a place where we could show those films.
It is remarkable how you have found a way to touch wide audiences with your films. Your films have been recognised not only by the professional community but also by the public. Many of your films have received Audience Favourite accolades at festivals. Your films and curatorial work proves again and again that dance film can reach wide audiences and bring the art of dance closer to the people.
Around the same time, when I started working with dance film, I was becoming a little fed up with only other professionals and colleagues coming to watch our performances. They are important spectators, but I had always imagined that my artworks are made particularly for people who are not my colleagues. I wanted to address the “regular people” in the streets. I had this epiphany from the beginning, and I still carry it with me. I often think about how the film appears for the viewer – I wonder, am I leading the film in the right direction? What is it that I really want to say? Most of my films lean towards a relatively clear narrative. The movement and dance always arise from the theme and topic of the film. I always search for a narrative motive for movement.
After Breath was finished and released I got to witness concretely how well this art form spreads and how accessible it is for audiences. At least in the West dance film is a rather democratic art form – once the audience member finds their way to the cinema seats. Somehow the cinematic storytelling that is embedded in dance film makes it easier for audience members who are not so used to watching or interpreting movement, to experience dance.
I have heard from many that only half-way into the film Walks with Me they have realised that what they are seeing is dance. Dance has been so deeply integrated into the storytelling that people are not even realising that they are watching dance. Only when very clear dance movements are made, dance becomes recognisable.
Not only do your films speak to a wide audience, but you also collaborate with diverse groups of people in making films, for instance Myrskyryhmä that consists of elderly people. How important have these collaborative experiences been for you? What have you learned about dance film through them?
In these films one gets to go through the entire project collaboratively. We incorporate people in the entire idea and planning phase. When working with Myrskyryhmä I have collaborated particularly with Elli Isokoski. Together we have developed working methods for inclusive dance filmmaking. In total we have made nine films between 2010-2024. The latest one of those is Ode to Age made in 2024. In that film we have seven women over 75 years old who all wanted to talk about body shame. And they wanted to make a film!
The meetings with these special groups are so rich professionally but also for my own personal life. I love the process. Overall, I am interested in human beings. I am constantly pondering and mesmerised by people – how special creatures we are. I have this inherent willingness to understand others.
When working on a film I need to figure out what it is about the theme that touches me. Why do I tell this story? At the same time, it becomes a process of sharing experiences with the group. I want to bring up phenomena in my film that otherwise do not get attention. If I can bring even a little bit more understanding to the world with my short films, perhaps that makes us less wary of each other.
In your open calls, you bring the term “wordless film” next to the genre of dance film. Could you elaborate on the relationship between dance film and “wordless film”.
Personally, I get very stuck on words and their meanings. Movement-based and wordless films allow more space for association and nuances. Sometimes, when I add words to a film, it can underline the message of the film in a way that makes it lose its momentum or strength. I am rather intrigued by storytelling guided by movement, situations and visual expressions. It offers space both for the maker and for audiences.
In the open calls when I have added the word “wordless” many video and media artists, as well as animators, who make body-based works have popped up. However, they do not consider themselves to be making dance films, even though their works fit that context. Terms can be dangerous and limiting. Dance film is such a wide term and it could include almost anything. It is good that we discuss and unravel the terminology around the art form.
You run the Moving North – Dance Film Tour which aims to increase accessibility of the artform and to map dance filmmakers in Finland and in the Nordics. How does the field of dance film appear to you today?
I have curated now for a long time, and I have come to notice that we have many dance filmmakers in Finland who make films continuously. The cycle is continuous. We have people in Finland who are very interested and inspired by this form. Fantastic. As part of the tour, I want to travel around and meet new people. At the same time, I get to map out which kind of hopes and challenges people have. This is particularly important now that we do not have Loikka Festival, which used to gather professionals together. We can feel quite isolated, scattered around Finland. We might have a colleague that we work with more intensively, but even then, we are quite alone.
I follow many international dance film festivals, because my own films are touring to them. It makes me glad that Finnish film appears to be well represented in them. Two years ago, I met Regina Lissowska in Amsterdam, who curated films for the Short Waves International Short Film Festival for a long time. She said that each year there are so many good films coming from Finland that she could, if given the opportunity, curate a screening dedicated entirely to Finnish dance film.
What kind of trends or sensitivities do you recognise?
Recently I have not seen so many films relating to technology. The films I have reviewed this year in relation to the Moving North tour have often shown themes related to memento mori – remember your own mortality. Many things relating to death. Of course, nature tends to be a trend – including the climate crisis. Quite a lot of black-and-white things as well, which is sometimes a chosen expressive method and sometimes a resource question around colour-correction. Sometimes I have had to really think whether I need to make black-and-white the theme of a particular screening because it appears so often.
Are there any stumbling stones?
I have a little bit this fear that we might be jumping ten years back in time. I mean by this that we go to the forest again, and make the same movies we made years ago. This is because we are not subjected to other kinds of ways to make films. Some filmmakers whose films have not been chosen by festivals might throw their hands up and quit, even though they actually would have a lot of talent for the field. I think that it is extremely important for us (who make our own films) to see films made by other people.
What kind of other advice would you give to people already working with the art form or aspiring to?
For a long time, I have said that it is really important for choreographers and dancers who want to make films to take the camera in their own hands, experiment on their own and ponder on how exactly they wish to use the camera. I also want to encourage them to collaborate with filmmakers, cinematographers, sound designers and so on to learn from them. In addition, it is helpful to watch other people’s films so that you develop your own expression. You can then see for instance that there are plenty of films made already in hallways, forests, empty abandoned houses and underwater.
Dance film is an underdog when it comes to financing – falling between two fields: dance and film. Many are making films with very low, almost non-existent financial and material resources. To your mind, is it possible to have good prospects for a film made with low resources?
Absolutely, as long as one has a good handle on the art form. There have been great films made with a phone camera and even a little worse resolution. One can think that all of that is material. When one chooses to take an old camera that has perhaps some older lenses, that’s an expressive choice.
You have followed the development of the field for a long time. What does dance film funding look like in Finland today?
I have recently become aware that during the ten years we ran Loikka Festival, we were constantly in touch with the Finnish Film Foundation, AVEK and YLE. From 2016 to 2018 we had a three-year project (Loikka tuotantohanke) with SES, AVEK, YLE and Loikka, where each year one dance film was produced. After this project for some years there were committees that had grown into the idea that “yes, dance film is part of the dance scene, and it also belongs to the field of film”. Again now, we are missing an organisation that speaks strongly for dance film. We are falling through the cracks.
On the side of dance, people have questioned in what way dance film counts as dance, because the format is film. On the other hand, in the field of film they can propose the opposite question. In the past the situation was that both dance and film people thought dance films are part of their big family.
We would need some organisation or platform that speaks for us. The Moving North tour is one example of that. For a long time, I was wishing for a touring institution for dance films since we have so many dance organisations and houses around Finland that we could make use of.
Dance film has such diverse potential, and at the same time it is a vulnerable art form. The progress of the field is very dependent on independent artists, who rarely get to collaborate with production companies. Dance film is an experimental art form that, however, often manages to find footing in big film industry structures and festivals.
That’s a funny thing. Often my collaborators say “please, no production company”. Many people enjoy the freedom. I always say to the youngsters who I teach, for instance at Outokumpu dance education, to “go, bravely ask the professionals and students in film and sound if they’d like to join your project”. They might want to join precisely because they would get some freedom from conventional formats, structures and hierarchies. They get to be inspired in a whole different way.
It is a demanding time. Next to structures and opportunities facing cuts in the field of arts and culture, technology is continuously advancing with new inventions popping up regularly. What do you think are the strengths and resources of dance film in this ever-changing, simultaneously regressing and advancing world?
This dance filmmaking thing starts to already be old technology. It is interesting to note that dancers, circus artists and physical theatre performers have contributed to the development of cinematic camera work and visual storytelling from the very beginning.
I feel that the strength of the art form is that it is easier to approach from the audience’s perspective than dance alone. However, it is definitely not easier to make than live dance. My experience is that one can explore the relationship between camera and movement eternally. In what way does the camera join a movement? Or how do you move to the camera? What kind of aspect ratio do you choose? There are so many possibilities with what to communicate: lenses, lights, colours, shapes. It’s such a wonderful palette – that’s the biggest resource for me in dance film. I get excited again and again.
As I hear it, it is the diversity and adaptability of dance film form that keeps you engaged – there is always something more to try out. When making a film there is a vast array of choices one has to make in relation to different aspects of the process. Eventually, however, films find a “final form” that one cannot change anymore.
Exactly. I have heard that for some people this causes anxiety. In the end the film is finished, and you cannot edit it anymore. A performance for the stage develops as you perform it. The shape and rhythm of it finds its place slowly. The performance also changes as it gets in contact with the audience.
I have developed this way of thinking that as I let the film out of my hands, it’s immediately in the past. It is something that was – a product of that time. This is my way of easing the feeling connected to a film being finished.
Artists have a tendency to make dance films in short form. The films often last from around one minute to twenty minutes. Many festivals accept a maximum duration of ten minutes. In part, the making of short films might be a resource question. What do you think about the possibility of making dance films longer? Could it be one future for the dance film form?
I am quite sure that for many artists choosing the short form is not a resource question but rather an active creative choice. A short film can be made in a shorter timeframe. At least I am also interested in challenging myself to communicate in a more compact manner. The process of making a feature film is very long. It requires years and years of development, and in that way it can become a resource problem. In order to receive funding it is also a big question what kind of themes and topics it is relevant to deal with today. The expense of a feature film gets very high, because planning and practicing choreography requires a lot of time, as you cannot simply do it from paper. However, of course it would be interesting to get to try out how dance could be integrated into the long form, or how a fully choreographed film could keep an audience in its grip for 70 minutes.
What are your wishes for the future of the field and the artists working with the art form?
I have a dream that one of the big festivals adopts dance film as a category that is actively explored and promoted. It should be an annual thing, even if it is simply two or three screenings. We really need a forum that we, as makers, can strive towards, where we can see other people’s works, talk to one another and network.
Loikka Festival developed an audience for dance film here in Helsinki. The last year of the festival in 2018 we had 3000 visitors to our events – which is pretty good. In my latest dance film event in Dance House Helsinki we had up to 270 people joining. This was based solely on my own and Dance House Helsinki’s social media marketing. I think it was probably the same people who used to come to Loikka, and of course dancers and filmmakers interested in the field.
I strongly believe that we would have an audience who is interested. Right now, we actually have no way of knowing how big the audience base could be. Now we should just dare to create something new, perhaps a festival so that dance film would not struggle between two art forms but can find its own ground. There has to be a concrete “somewhere” where we can develop our audience base. It is not so long since the ending of Loikka Festival in 2018 — we could find those audience members again, and more.
Kati was talking online with Silja Tuovinen