Fragility and Disability Discourse

An Interview with Alessandro Schiattarella

BY EMMALY WIEDERHOLT

Alessandro Schiattarella is an Italian dance artist based in Basel, Switzerland whose work mainly explores disability. Here, he shares his journey as a dancer with a disability, his choreographic processes, and his experience creating access and awareness through his work.

A shirtless dancer reaches up to the light. Their hand is blurred in movement. The background is dark.

Altrove, Photo by Sang Hoon Ok

~~

Can you share a quick overview of your dance history?

I started dancing when I was 12, following my older sister’s example. Then she stopped and I made a career out of it. Before that, I tried various sports like judo, track and field, and swimming, but none of them held my interest; I would get bored quickly. Dance felt different. From the moment I started, it felt like home.

A couple of years later, I began noticing changes in my body. My fingers didn’t move as well, especially in the cold. After numerous medical visits, I was diagnosed with a form of neurological atrophy. Even with this condition, I continued my dance studies and developed my skills and technique. I progressed from a local school called Movimento Danza to the prestigious Teatro di San Carlo in Naples and eventually to La Scala in Milan.

As I advanced in these demanding environments, my hands became less responsive. When I joined Béjart Ballet Lausanne, I was finally diagnosed with Hirayama disease, a condition characterized by neuromuscular atrophy. I spent 10 years in the mainstream dance world, navigating a highly competitive field where there were no disabled role models or peers. It was an isolating experience, full of challenges and uncertainties.

Eventually, I began to channel these experiences into my art. While freelancing in the Netherlands, someone asked me if I had a piece for a local festival. Around the same time, I was invited to create work for a festival in Switzerland, where shortly after the experience in the Netherlands I had moved for work. This move played a key role in my inclusion within the Swiss dance scene. These opportunities became turning points in my career. They introduced me to the Swiss cultural scene and its funding system, which allowed me to establish myself as a Swiss artist and create more projects.

One of those early works was Altrove — Italian for “Elsewhere.” It was my first solo piece and a deeply personal exploration of my relationship with my hands. At the time, I was searching for a safe space, free from the struggles of pretending or holding myself together, literally and metaphorically. In Altrove, I created a world where I could exist without constraints, where I could embrace fragility and transform it into something powerful.

How would you describe your choreography to someone unfamiliar with it?

Each project I create is unique, shaped by the subject I’m exploring and the performers I’m working with. My work is multidisciplinary: I incorporate dance elements, interactions with objects, singing, text, improvisation, and choreographed material. Everything is designed to serve the topic at hand. I also enjoy integrating costumes into the storytelling, using them as tools for interaction.

I don’t adhere to a specific movement quality, especially since I often work in inclusive settings where the performers’ bodies and abilities are so diverse. Instead, I bring a flexible set of tools to adapt movement to each performer’s unique capacities. For example, if a performer is unable to move, they might sing or contribute in another way. This requires me to approach the creative process without assumptions or rigid expectations.

While I come into each project with ideas and mental images, the reality of collaboration often reshapes them. The process involves a lot of patience, communication, and ongoing dialogue with the performers to discover what’s possible together.

I balance my personal projects, which I propose and fund through local and national systems, with commissioned work. For instance, my current touring piece, ZER-BRECH-LICH, was commissioned by the State Opera of Hannover. The brief was to create a piece for younger audiences that centered music and featured performers who identify as disabled. I proposed the theme of fragility, which became the foundation for the work.

Alessandro stands against a white wall with his hands out in front of him appearing close in the foreground.

Photo courtesy Alessandro Schiattarella

What was the process of creating ZER-BRECH-LICH?

This was my first collaboration with the State Opera Hannover, but I was fortunate to bring in performers I had worked with before. This created a foundation of trust in the rehearsal studio, which was complemented by the incredible technical support from the opera’s professional team. It felt like a balance between familiarity in the studio and external expertise.

One challenge, however, was navigating the differences between my working style and the opera’s administrative processes, particularly regarding touring. Their response times for emails were slower than what’s needed to coordinate with presenters. Thankfully, they granted me the rights to the piece, which allowed me to manage touring logistics independently.

The idea for ZER-BRECH-LICH came together almost by chance. During an introductory phone call with the opera, I thought we were just getting to know each other, but they suddenly asked me what idea I was bringing. In that moment, I looked at a drawing on my table of a performer with brittle bones wearing a protective costume. Next to it, I had written the word “fragility.” I improvised on the concept right then and there, building on it as I spoke. They liked the idea, and that became the starting point for the piece.

Serendipity continued to play a role in the project. Initially, I invited a musician whose work I admire, but she had to step back due to her pregnancy, which coincided with the premiere. Luckily, another friend, a songwriter, joined the project. She already had four songs ready, and they matched perfectly with the mood and rhythm of the piece, inspiring us to embody the music in new ways.

The project featured three performers, and we embraced the aesthetics of access as a core element. We integrated subtitles and visual descriptions and explored the concept of a relaxed performance. A “fourth invisible performer” provided live descriptions. We experimented with how to weave visual descriptions into the music. For instance, we used breaks in the songs to insert descriptions without overwhelming the performance. It was a delicate balance, but through collaboration with blind and Deaf artists who coached us and gave feedback, we found an approach that felt cohesive and inclusive.

Creating a relaxed performance is an ongoing process. We share with the audience what potential visual triggers, sound cues, and volume levels they can expect. The seating remains partially lit, and we include beanbags for those who might find traditional chairs uncomfortable. During the show, one performer invites the audience to stretch, get a drink, and reconnect with their bodies — a moment that reinforces the idea of accessibility as an integral part of the performance experience.

Three dancers stand in a triangle onstage in front of bright pinkish lights.

ZER-BRECH-LICH, Photo by Manuel Vason

What was the impetus for your piece Handling Hands and the process of creating it?

The piece began when I was contacted by a Chinese producer searching for someone working in the field of disability and dance — a niche that remains underrepresented in Switzerland. Pro Helvetia, a cultural institution in Switzerland, connected us, and I traveled to Beijing for a one-week residency in December 2023.

During the residency, I met Liu Yan, a prominent Chinese artist and one of the country’s best traditional dancers. Her career took a significant turn after an accident during rehearsals for the Beijing Olympics left her with a spinal injury. Now a wheelchair user, Liu Yan has become an advocate for inclusion and disability awareness, which is still at an early stage in China.

Liu Yan had written several books about hands, which immediately resonated with me, as hands are central to my own artistic exploration. In an interview, she described her hands as her “new legs,” emphasizing how they became her primary means of expression after her injury. Her books delve into the role of hands in traditional Chinese dance, their cultural significance, and their spiritual importance in Buddhist mudras.

This shared interest in hands became the foundation of our collaboration. Together, we explored the meanings of hands as tools for communication, care, and connection. The process revealed a vast and profound field of ideas. We created a duet, blending my experience of structuring ideas and Liu Yan’s deep knowledge of traditional movement.

We had only three weeks to create the piece, and it needed to be over 60 minutes long because it was being performed at one of China’s largest theaters, near the Forbidden City. It was a demanding process, but I drew on all my experience to meet the challenge. Despite the tight timeline, our collaboration brought together distinct perspectives and resulted in unique and meaningful work.

The piece premiered in Beijing, where it was performed a few times. Now, I’m working to bring Handling Hands to audiences in Switzerland.

A dancer in a wheelchair holds hands with a dancer sitting on the floor facing her. They are onstage.

Handling Hands, Photo courtesy Alessandro Schiattarella

Do you feel supported in Switzerland making work as a person with a disability? In what ways are your access needs being met, and in what ways are you experiencing obstacles to making your work?

There aren’t many people in Switzerland engaging with this type of work. I’m fortunate to have support from a theater here in Basel and to work on projects abroad. However, if you look at how often I tour, you’ll notice I perform very little within Switzerland itself. Most of my performances happen in Germany. In Switzerland, there’s still limited interest in topics related to disability and inclusion.

I recently spoke with someone from the British Council about how disability arts in the UK have become much more developed. They explained that this progress was driven by several factors, including a strong activist movement that created momentum. In Switzerland, by contrast, I often feel isolated, with very few other artists actively engaged in this discourse. The cultural landscape doesn’t yet fully support this work.

For example, access remains a significant challenge. There’s also skepticism around work created by disabled artists — many still perceive it as “not real art.” This prejudice is deeply ingrained and unlikely to shift quickly.

Yet, this work is essential. For me, it offers a sense of freedom and authenticity — a space where I can be myself. Disability is a universal reality; as everyone ages, it will eventually touch everyone’s lives. Unfortunately, many people prefer not to engage with it until it affects them directly.

What kinds of press have you received? I’m asking specifically because I understand many disabled artists often struggle with the inspiration narrative.

There’s been a mix of experiences. In Switzerland, there isn’t a strong tradition of dance criticism, which has its pros and cons. On the one hand, it avoids the power dynamics often seen in the dance industry, where criticism can sometimes feel more like a game of influence than constructive feedback. On the other hand, the lack of criticism also means there’s less engagement with the work, and the dominant narratives around disability remain largely unchallenged.

For instance, the narrative of “overcoming” disability is still pervasive. There’s the trope of “despite your disability, you made it,” which feeds into what’s often referred to as inspiration porn. It frames disability as something inherently negative to be fought or conquered, rather than simply as another way of experiencing the world.

In Germany, the landscape is a bit different. Critics there tend to be more educated about disability and inclusion, which can lead to deeper engagement with the work. However, this also comes with its challenges. For example, at a festival in Germany, I was criticized for a piece that was presented as a relaxed performance but was deemed not “relaxed enough.” The feedback was direct and harsh, highlighting the high expectations and different standards applied in that context.

What’s next for you? Is there an upcoming project or focus you’d like to share more about?

I’m currently in discussions with venues and programmers in Germany and Asia to tour ZER-BRECH-LICH, and there’s been a lot of interest. I’m also working on touring Handling Hands. I feel there’s more to explore with that piece, as the original production in China had to navigate censorship, which limited some of the ideas I wanted to develop.

Another exciting project is Super Normal Superpower, a playful piece featuring two disabled performers doing “crip acrobatics.” It’s designed for young audiences and celebrates creativity and fun while challenging conventional ideas of ability and performance.

Next year, I’ll be starting a new creation that’s still in its early stages. It explores the world of superheroes, Barbies, and other childhood stereotypes, delving into how they shape perceptions from an early age and how we can begin to dismantle them.

Additionally, I’ll be working on a project in Geneva next year with disabled artists. This, too, is in the early stages, but it’s already shaping up to be an exciting opportunity to push boundaries and deepen the discourse around inclusion in the arts.

A black and white image of Alessandro outside wearing a beanie and lifting one arm. He is to the right of the frame.

Photo by Claude Hofer

~~

To learn more, visit www.schiattarella.info.

Leave a Reply

Basic HTML is allowed. Your email address will not be published.

Subscribe to this comment feed via RSS