DV8's Lloyd Newson: 'There is nothing I feel we couldn't handle'

Australia-born Lloyd Newson has led DV8 Physical Theatre since its inception in 1986. His new show, John, based on interviews conducted with men in gay saunas, recently premiered at the National Theatre – the fourth collaboration between the two companies, and the first since 2012's controversial Can We Talk About This?. Here, he tells us how project was sparked by an interest in euthanasia, and why he wouldn't rule out getting the audience involved in his work.

John is billed as 'verbatim dance theatre' – could you define that phrase?

I used to make a lot of work that was fiction – my stories, springing from my imagination. But after 21 years of doing that I got to the point where I felt that I needed to access real stories, and a verbatim approach seemed the perfect means to satisfy my needs… With John, I conducted extensive interviews and did a lot of background research, even reading police transcripts and psychiatric reports.

What prompted your encounter with the title character?

Initially, I was going to do a piece about assisted suicide and euthanasia. Then a conversation with a Muslim friend of mine, a woman who was about to marry an ex-RAF helicopter commander, got me thinking about how love manifests itself in so many different ways and is more complicated for some than others. I started talking to men and the issue of sex often came up, so we decided to send a group of researchers into gay saunas to interview men there about issues of sex and love. We met John in one of them, five weeks after he was released from jail for a fairly serious crime – he was on probation and is still serving his sentence now. He's one of five major characters in the piece, and we interviewed over 50 men.

Do you worry that the nature of this research might distract from the meaning of the piece?

Well the first half of the piece isn't about the saunas at all, it's just about John's life. He's from a very rough, working class, northern background, his father was jailed for rape, he becomes a labourer, he gets heavily involved with drugs; he's not the sort of person you generally expect to find in a gay sauna. And that is an interesting aspect of the piece, to try and challenge expectations. The fact that John's most intimate relationships have actually been with women throughout his life is an interesting twist on what you might expect. And it's all anonymous, because we wanted people to speak to us honestly.

How did you go about turning that material into a dance piece?

The show is wall to wall movement and wall to wall words. So every movement is set to every word. It was a very painstaking process. Someone might say we take a long time to make a show, with nine months of research and six months of work, but I reply that you would pay a writer to go away and take that much time to write something. And we have to write two plays [the verbal and the physical]… We all dance most of the time through our body language. The skill is to heighten and exaggerate that movement without compromising on the meaning.

Was John himself involved in the rehearsals at all?

He did meet the performers, but I was his primary contact. We did eight or so interviews, and I met him a few times just to talk, because I needed more information to fill in some of the gaps in the story.

Is there any space for improvisation in the piece, or is the movement set?

There is one scene in which John dances to a Led Zeppelin song, and while doing that the actor improvises for about eight seconds. But everything else is set, the movements are wholly tied to the words. Traditional dance choreography usually involves what I term 'step arranging', but I need to see more. I need to see people engaged in every single move they make, and those movements need to have a reason. Otherwise it's like watching movement diarrhoea and it ultimately lacks meaning.

The behaviour of John's father brings to mind recent headlines about child abuse – is this topicality intentional?

There is certainly a huge topicality – John went through an experience that is very much in the headlines today. But it's a by-product of his story. He himself doesn't talk about being sexually abused. His family was sexually abused; his father abused his sister. We could talk all day about that area… they are interesting and horrendous issues. What I find especially shocking is that the Labour government, who you presume would be concerned about children and women's rights, have turned a blind eye and ear. But this isn't central to John's story.

This is the fourth collaboration between DV8 and the National Theatre – it's clearly a relationship that works

Nick [Hytner] has shown great faith in us. He co-produced our last work, Can We Talk About This?, a project that caused most other major institutions to run when we asked them to commission a film version. They didn't want to handle anything to do with Islam and issues of freedom of speech. But he was happy to present a piece that could be potentially provocative. There are a lot of reasons I appreciate the loyalty and courage that Nick has shown.

John is running concurrently at the National with Here Lies Love – would you ever be tempted to try a similarly immersive approach?

I am up for any potential idea or any kind of involvement. There is nothing that I feel we couldn't handle, and I would love to do a piece like that. But we have to tour works in order to survive, and that brings certain technical limitations.

You mentioned that you initially wanted to focus on the issue of euthanasia – is that something you may come back to?

Whether I come back to that, professionally or personally, is an interesting question. I believe in the right for people to end their life with dignity. We are told constantly by the government to take responsibility for ourselves, to take control of our destinies and finances. But when it comes to dying, we don't seem to have any [control]. It's another issue that people shy away from because it's complicated, it takes time.

John continues in the NT Lyttelton until 13 January 2015