To make art is to live life dangerously and vulnerably, consistently putting one’s creativity and a part of one’s self up and subject it to as much criticism as awe and adoration. For Malaysian choreographer Hwa Wei-An, that danger comes very literally, and plays out prominently in his solo dance piece A Reason For Falling, which plays this December as a part of the Esplanade’s da:ns focus – Out of Site programme.

Developed over the last two years after first presented during the Esplanade’s Forward Shift works-in-progress platform, A Reason For Falling is an exploration of the possibilities that exist between a loss of balance and a meeting with the ground, and quite literally inspired by Wei-An’s own experiences watching freeriding, the practice of riding down uncurated mountain faces on bikes, snowboards or skis, where the act of falling may be terrifying, yet has the potential to bring newfound wonder and joy if executed correctly. Speaking to Wei-An about the thought process behind the work, his relationship with the dance community, and the endless curiosity and passion that drives him to continue pursuing dance.

Read the interview in full below:

Bakchormeeboy: What was the origin behind A Reason For Falling – was there any specific incident or observation that sparked it off, and why did you decide that it was something worth conveying through dance?

Hwa Wei-An: The first time I watched Red Bull Rampage, back in 2016, I was mind-blown. It’s a crazy event, filled with wonder and possibility and risk. It was inspiring, and I wanted to see if I could find this sensation in my own dancing. Sans the level of risk, perhaps. I’ve been fortunate enough to learn how to snowboard since then, thanks to a Master’s programme in Europe. And the feeling keeps building. 

Bakchormeeboy: What was the process like behind refining it to this final form, especially when workshopping and considering what to remove or add? Do you feel in general, there is enough time and patience in the art world to allow artists to take the time to refine their work to this extent?

Wei-An: The process was… long. Haha! And often hard. Regarding time, it depends​ on the artist, I think. Some people are good at making decisions really fast, and not over-thinking things. I’m not one of those people, for good or ill, and tend to second guess everything I do. The Extra Credits channel on YouTube has some great advice about this, suggesting that people practise Killing Your Darlings and Failing Faster. They’re things that I’ve tried to implement in my working process, but it’s not easy. 

Honestly, I’ve been lucky to have had support from so many individuals and organisations, to work on this project over so many years. It does feel like a privilege, relative to what making a piece was like (whether my choreography, or me being in someone else’s) when I was back in a full-time company, and relative to the timelines I see others having to work with. 

But then, this piece is also such an integral part of who I am. It draws together many of my key interests, aspects of myself that aren’t just choreography, but things that I love and do (or want to do) regularly in life. In this light, it’s possible that I might have been working on this piece — or on the ideas within it, anyway — even if there wasn’t a commission, or support from various organisations to put it together into a ‘choreographed work.’

Bakchormeeboy: As an artist who has worked internationally and collaborated with plenty of artists from all over the world, do you feel that there is a universality to the language of dance that allows you to connect better to them, or are there times there are things that are lost in cultural norms and expectations?

​Wei-An: Haha! If you had asked me this question a year-and-a-half ago, before I started a Master’s programme in the anthropology of dance, my answer might have been very different. Right now, though, I’ll say that it’s complicated.

Universality is most prominent, I think, in the sense that people who have trained for a long time in a general field can recognise training, talent, skill, and time-invested by others within the field. I mean field quite broadly. In this case, looking beyond dance to the field of movement. Building on that, having a large repertoire of available movements makes it easy to play and exchange with others. Helps to get over the awkward introductory phase when meeting someone for the first time, that’s for sure. It’s easier to make friends with someone if you can play ball together, or go climbing, or step into a dance circle, than it is if you’re just talking. 

Beyond that, there certainly are so many things that are culturally specific, and which are, arguably, a product of nurture and not nature. Things that we’re taught to like and consider good, and even to value, differ from culture to culture. (With regard to music, Adam Neely has an interesting video on this, that discusses how our ears have been ‘normalised’.) It’s still possible to appreciate or recognise skill and talent, but whether or not something is liked is another question. 

There’s a bit of a funny story that illustrates this, and it has to do with backflips. In all the time that I was able to backflip — a good 11 years or so — I don’t think I ever impressed any ladies whose attention I wanted. As far as I can recall, it has only ever been little kids and other guys who were impressed by this skill. If you draw a Venn diagram of which cultures appreciate backflips, unfortunately the ‘young ladies I was trying to impress’ circle and the backflip circle do not overlap. 

Bakchormeeboy: You’ve mentioned that much of your practice revolves around being ‘stubborn’, eventually leading you to find the state of ‘flow’. What keeps you going and getting up again and again, and what do you feel drives your art?

Wei-An: Hmmm, the relationship between stubbornness and flow needs to be clarified a little, I think. There’s a key role that stubbornness, or to put it more positively, persistence, plays in learning anything that’s difficult. And if you ask me, the acquiring of a certain level of skill is necessary in order to be able to tap into states of flow, because to get into flow you need your brain to get out of the way. It’s a little difficult to have experiences of flow, I think, if you’re afraid that you’ll make a mistake, or you’re uncomfortable with uncertainty about what’s going to happen next. (This is different, say, from being uncertain about what’s going to happen next, but knowing that you have the skills to respond well to the situation.)

Apart from flow, though, stubbornness and knowing what I want has certainly brought me places. It takes a certain bull-headedness to be rolling around on the floor in JC, in grubby, baggy clothes, while your friends and classmates are socialising or studying together, or something or other. I was a weird kid back in JC. Haha! So maybe it’s not just about being stubborn, but a pluralism of character traits coming together, that enabled me to learn how to windmill, various other skills, and get this dance piece together over all these years.  

​There’s a certain amount of unwillingness to let things go, and a desire to see things through to the end that is what I have, I think. And to see things done well. Beyond that, though, what drives my art? Curiosity, I think. The desire to find out what’s possible. And the desire to tell stories, whether in the abstract form of dance, or in more concrete ways through my blog. 

Bakchormeeboy: Beyond producing work, you also seem to have a very strong sense of community – how supportive would you say the dance community is of each other in general, and how can dancers be better supported to continue doing what they love?

Wei-An: Overall, I would say that the dance community is pretty supportive of its members. People generally do show up for each other’s performances and events, though perhaps now there are so many events happening all the time that it’s hard to make sure that seats and halls are always full. 

How can dancers be better supported? That’s a tough question, because there are so many different pathways of dance out there. Personally speaking, though, what I wish I had been taught when I was much younger is that failure is ok, that learning something doesn’t work is just as valuable as learning what does work (see the ‘Kill Your Darlings’ and ‘Fail Faster’ videos that mentioned earlier). It’s tricky, I know, in a world of KPIs and expectations, but I wish I had learned how to fail at a younger age​.​ To have the mental and emotional reassurance that things will be ok, and get better, through failure and learning. 

This applies, I think, whatever the context may be. For the dancer just starting to make things alone or with friends, or for those fortunate enough to be working on commissioned projects. And it’s something that needs to be learned early (and so is a culture and society thing, I feel), and reinforced often. Because dancers, crazy artists who love their art, are always going to be stressing out over whether or not what they do is good or meaningful or whatever it is they want it to be. So having someone say, ‘Don’t worry, it’ll be alright’, can be invaluable. 

Bakchormeeboy: What were some of the biggest challenges faced or lessons learnt in the process of developing A Reason For Falling?

​Wei-An: Being given the thing that you’ve always dreamed of can be quite scary. It’s a lot of responsibility, the opportunity and support to make a big dance piece. It feels as if there are expectations from those who provide this opportunity, because there’s also a financial factor involved. This, I think, comes back to my tendency to over-think and question things and doubt myself. Hence the emphasis on feels: in spite of all the assurances of those who have trusted in me, I’ve always been afraid that things might turn out badly. 

So, learning to trust that things are going to be ok was probably one of the biggest challenges that I faced. Now that I write this, maybe I should have taken a bit of time to remember that there are reasons why people trusted me in the first place, and perhaps I’d have worried a little less throughout the whole process. This interview is proving to be an excellent exercise in introspection and perspective. Thanks! 

​Bakchormeeboy: Is there an overarching message you’d like audiences to walk away with, or something you’d like them to consider or think about after watching this show?

Wei-An: Most important, I think, is that I want the audience to walk away with an experience of the show. Of being there, of watching, and being open to seeing what happens on the inside as they watch. If I manage to bring my audience to this point, then I’d be thrilled. It’s super difficult to get people to the point of experiencing a work of art in a way that turns off their brains. 

It’s not the ‘willing suspension of disbelief’, of choosing to turn off critical thinking faculties so that what you’re experiencing becomes palatable. J.R.R. Tolkien, in his essay ‘On Fairy-Stories’, was pretty critical of this. What I hope to achieve is a performance in which people are sucked in and cognitive things upstairs turn off by themselves, because of an envelopment in the experience of what’s happening.

Maybe I shouldn’t say this, though. Gives everyone who reads this a very high standard against which to judge what they come to see. Haha! Anyway, the short answer is, I hope the audience walks away with an experience of watching the piece, and can take that home to think and stew on. That’s more important to me than them taking away a specific ‘message’, I think. 

Images by Farhan Rizuwan, Courtesy of Dance Nucleus

A Reason For Falling plays from 7th to 8th December 2024 at the Esplanade Theatre Studio. Tickets available here. For more information on the work, visit Wei-an’s website here

da:ns focus – Out of Site runs from 6th to 8th December 2024 at the Esplanade. Tickets and full programme available here