​

• Curiosity is a broad yet essential principle that guides me. It’s deeply rooted in my personal history as a Frenchman who grew up in the Netherlands, spent a formative year in Japan at the age of 15, and later lived in Germany. This layered cultural experience informs my approach to dance and to culture more broadly—ranging from Black culture to Western white culture—and fuels my desire to co-embody, to groove together, and to shake up established institutions and structures. I have a strong interest in languages and cultures, and in finding ways to connect them—to make sense of a multidimensional world. This is a central focus and driving force in my research and artistic work.

​

• The reason to come was a strong need to step out of the flow of daily activities, to really zoom in on my artistic practice and methods of teaching, to look at them again, go deeper, and re-consider them. I was looking for a place that could allow me that focus and a for a quiet environment. I was really happy to be here—to have nature right outside the door, and also the studio right outside of the apartment where I was staying with Gabriele [nb: Gabriele Aidulis – dance artist collaborating with Joseph during their residency at La Cap], who was working with me. It was nourishing for me, the kind of dream I had envisioned, without intending to be cheesy - but yes...

​

• In my artistic practice, there’s a strong desire to connect cultures and different worlds. In dance, this translates into working with ballet as a container for my Western heritage and French identity, while exploring ways to link it with House dance and, more broadly, Hip hop culture. Coming from a background as a breaker—hip hop was my first entry point into dance—this impulse to bridge different worlds is central to my approach. During this residency, I’m reflecting on my artistic and pedagogical methods, particularly through the lens of transmission, with the aim of developing a coherent methodology.

​

• I think I’d like to call myself a dance artist, to kind of encompass a broad range of activities. I teach, I perform, and I also create. I see it as an ecosystem that circulates, where the different aspects of practice help shift perspectives and feed one another.

​

• When I arrived here, I asked myself: does this research make sense? Do I still want to do this? Am I not framing myself too much by categorising—ballet, culture, House dance, elements of Hip hop—instead of just doing what I do? That’s a big question: how to build a meaningful relationship with categories. At the same time, working with distinctions and labels can offer valuable tools and reference points. I’m still in the process of understanding what ballet really means to me—what it represents. A central question I’ve always had, and still grapple with, is how to speak about this research. How to find the right words for something so layered and complex. 
  You could say, in a straightforward way: “I’m combining ballet with House dance and hip hop.” But you could also say: “I’m combining different cultures, philosophies, and worldviews.” And I’m doing that as a white male artist, which adds another layer of complexity.
  So there are all these intersecting dimensions. I’m constantly trying to understand when to use which words, and how to talk about this work in a conscious, intentional way—without overwhelming it with discourse, labels, or the weight of connotation.

 

• I’m curious about how a body that contains multiple languages—which I think is also representative of the dancer now and in the future—can embody different dance cultures. How do these techniques interact? Ballet is a refined form built on precise, codified shapes. So how does a ballet shape appear within a dance frame that is groove-based and fluid? How does it appear and how does it disappear?
  During this residency, I realized that this question has been a quiet, underlying interest across everything I do—and it has now become more explicit. That was beautiful to realize.
  I also developed a playful vocabulary to experiment with during these explorations. For instance, during the residency we came up with the term “zone of tolerance”, to describe the range within which a shape or a position still qualifies as “ballet,” and the point at which it no longer does. I enjoy playing within that liminal space, slipping in and out of it.
  Rather than manipulating ballet from within, as is often the case in neoclassical approaches, I’m more interested in moving in and out of ballet while having in the background this multicultural and multi-linguistic body. I’m looking for a sense of cohabitation, of co-embodiment, between ballet technique and groove, referring to dances rooted in African traditions, such as House dance and hip hop - rhythm-driven, involving the whole body, originating from emotional expression- very different from the vertical axis and formal alignment that define ballet. 

​

• I try to transfer that approach also within the methods of thinking of movement and the methods of training and practice. There are analytical exercises in both: in ballet, there’s a strong emphasis on transmission and practice, but rarely any space to deconstruct or play with the form. That is something that usually only choreographers do, but as a dancer-interpreter, you don’t really deconstruct ballet or play around with it.
  So that is an element I’m taking from urban dances and integrating into the technique: to take ballet as a concept that is not absolute and fixed, like in ballet class, and to transmit to ballet a new quality, a sort of sense of playfulness.
  ​Personally, I also relate to ballet through a folkloric lens and I enjoy the characters and expressions associated with performing ballet—the proud chest, the flirtation, the drama— I enjoy feeling like a prince... [Joseph laughs and lifts his chest into a proud ballet pose].
   

• Here at La Cap there was not really, let’s say, a strict routine. But breakfast outside the little terrace in the sun—that was definitely a fixed element of the day. I also always meditate in the morning. The routine was just to work in the studio.
   

• As someone who comes from breaking, I have a tendency to be happy with a little corner of space. I feel that this tendency somehow always stays with me. What I really loved and enjoyed here, were the two tiny windows in the studio that frame a bit of Tuscany. You really see the cypress trees—as if it’s a painting—and a beautiful sky. Then there are the big windows behind me, just with the gorgeous garden view as well. So there was always a breath of fresh air, to just look outside. 

​