In Bornsick, movement artist Lewis Walker explores the queer body in a heterosexual world. A former competitive acrobatic gymnast, Walker’s latest work melds the world of gymnastics and dance performance in an hour-long solo performance at the Round Chapel in Clapton. Initially inspired in part by conspiracy theories about shapeshifting reptilian aliens, the piece uses visual metaphor and movement to meditate on, in Walker’s words, being “born into a society where your existence is othered”.

Soundtracked by cellist Oliver Coates and featuring costumes by up-and-coming designer Straytukay, Bornsick is both a physical tour de force and an emotional reckoning with the body, identity, and transformation. We caught up with Walker during an intense rehearsal phase, featuring exclusive behind-the-scenes imagery by photographer Jack Tennant.

Barry Pierce: Can you tell me the inspiration behind Bornsick and how the show evolved from your early ideas into the final work?
Lewis Walker: I had been getting quite obsessed with the conspiracy theory that shapeshifting reptilian aliens were controlling the Earth. Bear with me, I have always been very fascinated and scared of reptiles, and felt a natural embodiment of them in my movement language as an improviser. I don’t believe that I am a reptilian alien, but it highlighted my experience as a queer person and the constant shapeshifting of character and expression depending on time and environment. Bornsick is basically the experience of being a queer child, born into a society where your existence is othered and can be condemned or confused. When things like your gender or sexuality do not fit into the status quo, how do we as a community use references and sub-communities of queerness to form identities? Bornsick is a representation of the back-and-forth shapeshifting experience of humans through conditioning and re-learning.

BP: Where does Bornsick fit into your wider body of work? Are there any connections to your previous works, such as recurring themes or motifs?
LW: Bornsick feels like the baby that has finally brought my gymnastics, art and dance practice together. I retired from competitive acrobatic gymnastics at 21 and retrained as a contemporary dancer and choreographer. I had been working as a choreographer for competitive gymnastics since I was eighteen. I completely loved it, but the scope of what was palatable and also possible within the rules of the sport felt quite limiting. Since I started working in the dance and commercial sector, I have been aiming to draw the disciplines together, and now, incorporating the gymnastics sprung floor in this performance, it feels like this is the beginning of my style of work.

BP: How do you prepare for the performance? I know you have a history in gymnastics, but an hour-long solo performance must still be an amazing test of endurance for you.
LW: For this show, it has been about eight months in the making, and about three months in, I started to refine my training programme to incorporate the styles and skills I wanted to perform in the work, targeting certain muscles and dynamics of movements which would train the maintenance of the body and mind. We did a sharing of the show yesterday, and I don’t think anything prepares you for the mixture of the physical demands when met with adrenaline. I create test runs that simulate an experience close to the show, but the scale never matches.

BP: Speaking of gymnastics, your history in the sport is pretty unique for an artist. How has it influenced your creative practice?
LW: Gymnastics makes up the majority of my practice. When I retired and retrained as a contemporary dancer, I set out to completely shed the training and leave it behind me, I wanted to assimilate to the dance world and homogenise with the scene. I loved gymnastics, I started at 6 and completely got hooked, the culture, challenges, creativity, costumes and the relationships with coaches and choreographers. When I retired from competing, it was like a breakup. I longed for that love, but needed to grow in a different direction. My creative practice has the discipline, attention to detail and desire for physically profound feats, which all stem from gymnastics training.

BP: The performance is soundtracked to pieces by cellist Oliver Coates, what is your relationship to the pieces you’ve chosen here, as well as your relationship with Coates?
LW: One of my first dance jobs with artist Hannah Perry, was scored live by Oliver Coates. I loved performing live with him, it was the first time a musician responded to my movement, it felt so freeing to be supported in this way. Oliver, who also happened to be friends with my sister, asked her to create a promo video for his track Butoh baby, which she asked me to dance in. I grew such a fondness for his albums, especially with his track Honey which continuously moves me with each listen. Oliver had always been someone I wanted to collaborate with, I was just waiting for the right moment.

BP: Equally, tell me about your relationship with Straytukay. His recent work with Rick Owens has been so iconic. How much input do you personally have on the costume you wear?
LW: I started working with Straytukay when he was at University, we met on a shoot with Tim Walker, and then he asked me to model for his work. He put me in a latex suit which he vacuum-packed with a Henry Hoover. The first time I tried it, I thought this young creative was going to kill me in a CSM Studio. I usually approach him with a theme, concept and potential silhouette that I am interested in. Straytukay has quite a childlike enthusiasm when he is creatively excited, you can see his brain darting with ideas, but ultimately, he respects the overall work and how he can support it. With all my collaborators, I try to find the balance of proposing initial ideas, letting them find or pitch their own creative voice, and then refining so all the components work cohesively.

BP: What emotions are you hoping your audience will have after the performance? Do you have a central message that you hope to convey to them?
LW: I believe that hoping for specific emotions from audiences to be quite a strange and controlling stand point of directing. I make work that speaks to me, hopefully moves and pushes me to be braver, kinder, more connected and a better person. Every audience member will bring a different history, personality, emotion and cultural reference to the room and whether they connect is now out of my hands. I don’t say this to excuse the responsibility of creating a powerful show, but to acknowledge we all respond differently to art. I think the message which is currently coming up for me is that transition is possible at any time, and that the rate of change is not linear. I think we have surges of growth, and to be constantly open to the possibility of internal liberation.

Bornsick by Lewis Walker, a partnership between Serpentine and EAF25, will premiere on May 21st at the Round Chapel, Clapton. More info can be found here.