New York So Far
For the past week, I've been in New York participating in an in-person training cohort with Intimacy Directors and Coordinators (IDC), an organization dedicated to fostering safer, more collaborative practices for intimate content in theatre, film, television, and live performance.
This training is the culmination of nearly five years of engagement with IDC programming. Along the way, I've completed Foundations of Consent and Intimacy, Applications of Consent and Intimacy, the Accelerator Program, and attended the Intimacy Professionals Summit in both 2025 and 2026. Being accepted into this in-person cohort is an opportunity to deepen my practice alongside artists and educators from across the globe.
Before intimacy direction emerged as a distinct role, much of that work often fell to directors, choreographers, and movement specialists anyway, so this feels like a natural extension of the practice I've been developing throughout my career.
More broadly, of course, I'm interested in how we create rehearsal spaces where people can do their best work: spaces that are collaborative, equitable, creative, and grounded in care.
It’s all connected.
I've discovered through this training is that the work is as much about leadership as it is about intimacy choreography.
The questions I keep returning to are:
How much space do I take up?
How much space do I offer?
How do I create conditions for others to succeed?
There are two ideas that have resonated particularly strongly so far. The first is “share, don't tell”, which feels closely related to one of my own artistic mantras, “show, don't tell”. The idea is to invite collaborators into a process rather than prescribing solutions.
The second is “hold the space, don't own the space”, a reminder that leadership is stewardship rather than control.
Of course, life in New York has not been limited to the studio.
I've spent many hours walking the city, letting myself wander and absorb its energy. I was also lucky enough to visit The Metropolitan Museum of Art and spend time with Art of Costume, an exhibition that left a profound impression on me.
One gallery in particular, titled Bodily Being in Its Diversity, explored how fashion has idealized, distorted, and ultimately reclaimed diverse forms of embodiment.
The exhibition traced a journey from normative archetypes toward a recognition of bodily plurality, situating fashion within changing ideas of representation and identity.
I found the experience deeply moving.
The gallery was accompanied by Requiem for the Static King Part 1 by A Winged Victory for the Sullen, played through speakers placed at floor level. You felt it resonate through your body as you moved through the space. The combination of sound, texture, colour, craftsmanship, and extraordinary detail created an experience that felt almost spiritual.
I also had the chance to see Oh, Mary! with Maya Rudolph in the title role. It was campy, ridiculous, and an absolute delight. I would go back again and again to see each different actor’s take on Mary.
More than anything, I feel grateful.
Time and space for professional development are privileges, especially for independent artists and arts workers. To step away from regular responsibilities and immerse myself fully in learning has been both energizing and affirming. The work is challenging and inspiring, and I'm returning home with new tools and renewed excitement for the future.
Off to Cats! (like, how often can you say that).