Photo By Danilo Moroni
Léa Tirabasso is a dance professional, her latest work - The ephemeral life of an octopus which will premiere at The Place on Sat 2 Mar - was inspired by her personal experience with a rare form of ovarian cancer. Here Léa tells us about the thoughts, processes and reasons why she wanted to present her experience in the form of dance.
“Being a dancer, I have always had a strange relationship with my body: I was very aware of every sign it would send and I listened carefully. This probably saved my life in 2016 when I so clearly felt something was wrong.
A ‘mass’ had formed on my left ovary, which doctors assumed was a random cyst. My CA125 blood test was positive. It turned out that during the operation it was impossible to remove the mass without removing the ovary too. This was the first hard experience: my femininity had been mutilated for my health to be corrected. I then spent a month waiting for the lab to tell me what this ‘mass’ has been. When the diagnosis arrived, it hit me: ovarian cancer stage 1. More precisely, a dysgerminoma (which only represents 3% of ovarian cancer’s cases).
I suddenly felt that the body I had trusted, trained and fused with had betrayed me. I couldn’t help feeling a strong sensation of dislocation between my mind and my body. I was an empty, weightless shell, a floating mass, I felt like a monster with scars and an organ down. Looking at the world around me after the diagnosis, I saw a clear separation between the healthy and the unhealthy. I blamed myself for being conscious of my own death; I blamed humanity for being so clear-sighted and thought consciousness was simply a curse.
I started diving into the mechanism of cancer. I had to understand what had happened to my body. I discovered an illness in movement; cancer cells are chaotic, as Dr Adeola Olaitan, (Gynaecological Oncologist at UCLH, and collaborator on this project), described them to me: they “escape the normal regulatory processes and grow in uncontrolled ways”. They are abnormal, and I was driven to make a piece reflecting the experience of having one of these bizarre growths in my body.
I felt the urge to share my story and to tell everyone; my peers, colleagues, friends, family – about gynaecological cancers. There are five different forms; womb, ovarian, cervical, vulval and vaginal. They do not only happen to menopausal women, and awareness that these cancers even exist are worryingly low. I found out a lot of women were not aware of gynaecological cancers. I felt the urge to embody life again, to reconnect my dislocated body and mind, to portray our so absurd human condition… using the medium I knew best: dance.
I started diving into thoughts and studies around the notions of disease and health. I discovered the Phenomenology of Illness, and found myself drawn to the ideas at the heart of the incredibly fascinating essay The Human and the Octopus by Thomas Stern:
“There is the ancient, religious idea that man is the unhappy combination of beast and god: if only we were divine, we would be liberated, immortal spirit; if only we were beast, we could be content in our instinctive ignorance.”
In 2017 I spent a week at The Place, London, developing the first choreographical ideas of the project during Choreodrome, and two weeks at The Wellcome Collection reading and researching.
In 2018 I spent two weeks at The Place, London, and a week at Dance-City, Newcastle. Between September 2017 and March 2019, I have been working closely with Valerie Brown from the Wellcome Collection, together, we organised five open discussions:
During those three weeks, I have been discussing illness, dance, bodily sensations, notions of pain and stoicism but most of all, I have been discussing gynaecological health. I realised that a lot of women can’t locate the cervix on an anatomical diagram of the female anatomy, and think there are only two types of gynaecological cancers. Light needs to be shed on this mystery, and I believe that art can help.
Researching, making and experimenting the piece was and is extremely cathartic.
The finished work goes beyond my own experience and story and delves into a more universal question: what is it to have a body?
This blog post is an edited version of an earlier post featured on The Eve Appeal website.
The ephemeral life of an octopus premieres at The Place on Sat 2 Mar (part of a double bill with Yukiko Masui). Click here to find out more.