Reflections from NYC: Risk and the Potential for New Stories

*For a bit of context: I've just returned from New York after intensive in person training with Intimacy Directors and Coordinators (IDC), an organization dedicated to fostering safer, more collaborative practices around intimate content in performance.

I arrived in New York expecting to deepen my understanding of intimacy direction, specifically the technique. Angles. Sightlines. Gesture. Masking. The practical tools that allow intimate storytelling to happen safely and believably on stage.

I left with that, for sure, but also with a renewed appreciation for collaboration, leadership, and the conditions that allow artists to do their best work.

In some ways, I travelled to New York only to have many of my core values reinforced.

Like many people, my initial understanding of intimacy direction was rooted in safety, consent, and risk mitigation. The roles of intimacy director and intimacy coordinator emerged in response to the industry's reckoning following the #MeToo movement and the revelations surrounding Harvey Weinstein in 2017. Advocacy, accountability, and performer safety were rightly at the forefront of the conversation.

Those elements remain foundational to the work.

What surprised me during this training was how much space now exists for intimacy direction to embrace its creative function.

As the role becomes more established within the industry, intimacy directors are increasingly able to contribute not only as advocates and facilitators, but as storytellers.

That shift excites me.

What stories become possible when artists have the tools and support to stage intimate moments with confidence and care? What material might we explore that previously felt too difficult, too risky, or too complicated?

When I think about my future as an intimacy director, I find myself thinking more and more about the stories we unlock.

I think about the scenes that traditionally happen offstage. The blackout before the act. The implied encounter. The relationship that is talked about rather than shown. The aspects of human experience that can feel challenging to stage well.

Increasingly, I am interested in what becomes possible when artists have the support to approach that material thoughtfully.

How might we expand representation? How might we take creative risks while maintaining care for performers? How might we tell stories that previously felt inaccessible to artists, producers, or audiences?

For a long time, I approached intimacy direction primarily through a safety lens. Make no mistake, that advocacy work remains essential.

And… I now find myself equally interested in intimacy direction as a creative discipline. A tool for storytelling. A way to help artists bring difficult, vulnerable, joyful, messy, complicated human experiences onto the stage with greater specificity and intention.

That feels like exciting territory.

And, in many ways, still largely uncharted.

If any of this sparks your curiosity, please reach out. I'd love to grab a tea and chat. I'm also working on some educational materials for companies and organizations that want to better understand what an intimacy director does, how we work, and how the role can support both safety and storytelling.

On a practical note, part of my certification process involves continuing to apply this work in my own community. So if you're creating work that could benefit from intimacy direction, or if you'd like to learn more about the practice, I'd be delighted to chat. Please keep me in mind for future projects.