I had read an interview not too long ago with choreographer Julie Fotheringham and couldn’t resist contacting her for a video session with Pro Diligo. Her words and movements are exactly what we embody within this magazine: honesty and transparency. When I walked into her rehearsal she was just setting up for her improv session; the first thing that struck me was her perfect dancer’s body–simultaneously, compact, strong and lean. Watching her walk towards me was like watching a panther move; there is something mysteriously sexy in its simplicity. As I began to set up my camera to impose on this intimate moment, the most amateur thing happened: my camera battery died. After I admitted my blunder, Julie surrendered her camera to me (since she rehearses alone, she videotapes her sessions so she can review them after she dances), so if you like the work you see in the video, be sure to check her out October 10th at the New York Electronic Art Festival.

1. What is the first creative moment you remember?

The first public improvisation I remember was when I was about six. My parents had guests over, and viewable from the dining room, I climbed up and down and around on the walls in the hallway without ever touching the floor. I don’t remember the response, but I clearly remember doing it.

2. Where did you grow up and how did you end up where you are now?

I was born in Utah and moved to Vegas when I was 16. I went to college at University of Las Vegas and worked as a dancer and acrobat in Las Vegas shows. Doing the same show, two shows a night, and five nights a week turned me into a zombie robot, and to escape the monotony, I decided to move to NY and make my own work. I sold my house and everything I owned and drove out here with what I could fit in my car. That was three years ago.

3. Which performance, song, play, movie, painting or other work of art had the biggest influence on you and why?

While in Edinburgh in 2000, I saw Sasha Waltz’ Körper. It was my first exposure to that style of German dance theater. The image of flesh squiggling between plexiglass is still ingrained on my mind. If my work ever leaves that strong of an impression on someone, then I can die.

4. What is your ideal creative activity?

Improvising in the studio by myself. Rehearsing alone gives me the freedom to be as goofy, or as sexual, or as dark as I want to be, and a lot of that carries over into my work.

5. How do you begin your day?

I’m a night owl. My “day job” is at night, so I’m rarely up before noon. Then I make strong cup of coffee.

6. Have you ever had to make a choice between work and art? What did you choose, why, and what was the outcome?

I’ve sold out for most of my career, choosing stable well-paying gigs, like Cirque du Soleil and Disney, over art. It left me financially satisfied and completely bored. By leaving Cirque to move to NY and make my own work, I chose art. It’s the best choice I’ve ever made.

7. When you work, do you love the process or the result?

I love, and hate, both. The process is what defines my life on a day to day basis, but it’s all directed at the result. The result is what people see and it’s very important to me. I’m not interested in making the process the art. The process is the process and the art is the art.