Dance as instinct through the lens of Danny Willems
Photographer Danny Willems on his exhibition ‘Living on my Instinct’
In Living on my Instinct, Danny Willems presents twenty years of images of dancers from around the world. Chance led him in the direction of dance photography and resulted in an exhibition at the Cultural Center of Blankenberge.
How did the exhibition come about?
After my exhibition about my friend Arno (Belgian singer, ed.) in Ostend, the city of Blankenberge - my hometown - also asked me to put together an exhibition. I started combing through my hard drives and found a common thread in a bunch of photos from the past twenty years: dance. The title ‘Living on my Instinct’, a song by TC Matic, quickly popped into my head. That title connects the images, because dance is instinct: you hear music and before you know it, you're moving. It comes from deep inside.
You are known as a rock photographer, such as of the late singer Arno. How did you end up in the dance world?
Completely by chance! My girlfriend at the time was a dancer and was cast in Wim Vandekeybus' first production in 1986. Wim and I hit it off, and so I became the photographer for his company Ultima Vez. At first, I found that a bit strange, because I didn't have much affinity with dance. But I seized the opportunity and it felt right for me. I saw the honesty of dance; it's a language you can't lie with. Instinct, really. Through Wim, I also learned about the difficulties of that world: limited opportunities, little money, and a lot of rejection. That touched me. I saw an opportunity to help these people a little, with free portfolio shoots. That's how the series grew.
You photographed dancers from all over the world. How did you go about it?
Whenever I was in a big city, I wanted to photograph a dancer there. That's how I ended up working in New York, Paris, Kinshasa, and Tokyo. Tokyo was special because that's where I met Nobu Taka, a butoh dancer. I was really drawn to that style of dance. The tense, slow movements and fearful expression conveyed a kind of mystery that I like to capture in all my photos. I also found that rawness and instinctiveness in Ultima Vez and Arno. Nobu Taka was a real discovery for me. He was stylishly dressed in a minimalist way, had a charismatic face, and the collaboration just clicked. We shot for four hours in the freezing Japanese cold, but it yielded hundreds of usable photos.
Is there another photo from your series that stays with you?
One photo that stays with me is the one with Asumi, a dancer from Tokyo. A shy and modest young woman who blossomed completely when she danced. I was looking for something mysterious again, so she sat down in an alley against the wall, hands between her legs and head down. It turned out to be a fantastic photo that leaves a lot to the imagination. Not long ago, I heard that she had taken her own life. That touched me deeply and makes the photo even more intense today.
What does your instinct say today: more dance photography or not?
That may happen, but I am someone who likes to seize new opportunities. If that means I have to give up dance, then so be it. I am self-taught, never had any formal training, and believe that if I want something, I can do it. If you want me for videos, I'll do videos; if you want me as a rock photographer, I'll be a rock photographer. I don't want to wait until I've had enough of something. I have 20 years of images that hold wonderful memories, so I'd rather end on a high note. If new opportunities come along, I'll seize them with enthusiasm.
Living on my Instinct runs until November 2 at the Cultural Center of Blankenberge.