Each of us, not just actors and dancers, has patterns of moving through space that we may or may not be conscious of - movement patterns, habits that we might be able to drop if we realise them, thereby breaking patterns. The relation to space is always there. The more conscious one is, the more facets, nuance one will find as a creative person. We walk through the world with our bodies, bodies that are constantly changing in relation to things and contexts as well as within themselves (ageing, pain). By ‘architecture of the body’, I try to convey that the body is my instrument, which I mean to know and fine-tune like a musical instrument. At the same time, it is an object of research, of investigation: this ever-changing body with its chances and challenges of constant transformation.I don’t want to bring a technique or method and impose it on dancers, or insert it into a local context. I want to open up different perspectives and approaches. Each one must discover and redefine the ‘authentic’ for themselves from their own ways of being and moving in relation to their questions and concerns.As for interdisciplinarity, I like collaborating with musicians, visual artists and light designers. Interdisciplinarity is also site-specific. In ‘unsichtbarst’, for example, I am working within a limited 5 sq.m. space and I found myself discovering and revisiting memory landscapesI created the solo as a young dancer and had no physical challenges. Though my body was free, I was not interested in showing off any virtuosity. I felt everything was already done and I was questioning every single movement or step. I was at zero point. But this realisation was also liberating in a sense, because play became possible. I started playing with material in absurd, self-ironic ways. I scrutinised form and non-form as a binary and realised that everything, even the amorphous, is still form. I discovered that dropping layers, peeling off, playing roles, taking off masks, all create further new forms, different layers of presence - a disappearing and a reappearing in a sense.I toured with ‘unsichtbarst’ for 10 years till 2008. ‘Unsichtbarst’ itself is a bit of an impossibility. It means invisiblest - as if there are degrees to being invisible. The latter half of the word, barst, in German (also in English) hints at bursting; in a sense, it could be interpreted as exploding into invisibility. But does that mean anything? The climax of invisible is extremely visible. I’m not looking for answers. I’m interested in the challenge of trying to convey this in a performative situation.I was invited to perform the solo after a decade in Switzerland last November and in France in April this year. The Chennai workshop came as I was getting ready with preparations for that. I was keen to see how the questions I had asked then had changed. Obviously, I’m also 20 years older now. I liked the idea, this time round, of ‘re-membering’. The English word works as it suggests the idea of rearranging/ replacing one’s limbs (members). Each of us, not just actors and dancers, has patterns of moving through space that we may or may not be conscious of - movement patterns, habits that we might be able to drop if we realise them, thereby breaking patterns. The relation to space is always there. The more conscious one is, the more facets, nuance one will find as a creative person. We walk through the world with our bodies, bodies that are constantly changing in relation to things and contexts as well as within themselves (ageing, pain). By ‘architecture of the body’, I try to convey that the body is my instrument, which I mean to know and fine-tune like a musical instrument. At the same time, it is an object of research, of investigation: this ever-changing body with its chances and challenges of constant transformation.I don’t want to bring a technique or method and impose it on dancers, or insert it into a local context. I want to open up different perspectives and approaches.