How do you know when to walk away? What are the prompts, external and internal, that trigger the shift?
On a drab and wet workday afternoon in North Melbourne, in a ground floor corner behind a dull, industrial facade, you might think that getting away, that doing – being – something else, would be infinitely preferable. But then, this is not a factory, not a beige-box office; and the sign outside has her name on it.
For one of this country’s most celebrated dance artists, the decision to retire as head of the company she started in 2002 was neither easy nor impulsive. “It’s really been coming for quite a long time,” she admits. “I remember mentioning to a previous Chair that I would one day leave the company and his reaction was quite, well, he got a bit agitated because it means a lot. It’s a big thing. But that was several years ago; so I’ve had a lot of time to adjust to the idea.”
That the artist in question is the multi-award-winning choreographer Lucy Guerin, AO perhaps serves to amplify the ‘end of an era’ vibe. Since graduating in the early 1980s from Adelaide’s Centre For Performing Arts, Guerin has danced and presented work around the world. From her base in Melbourne, she has been one of the key protagonists in 21st century Australian contemporary dance. Her back catalogue is sprinkled with gems, her CV highlighted by numerous accolades (Bessie, Helpmann, Order of Australia, et al).
Yet, on a cold grey Tuesday at the inner urban HQ of Lucy Guerin Inc, in a setting notable for its ordinariness, the retirement bomb seems less dramatic. As the company’s talisman notes, “There was a certain moment, about a year ago, where I just knew it was right.”
At that point, however, there were still items on the to-do list, amongst them The Forest, which recently premiered at the RISING Festival, and a final solo performance, slated for later this year. Yet, in parallel, a sense that the time had come.
As she says, “I had this sense of wanting the company to continue on, but to leave at a point where it was still thriving, so that somebody else has the opportunity to really delve into their creative practise in the way I’ve been able to.”
In this, an acknowledgement. Guerin has enjoyed a rare privilege; that of pursuing a vision and being able to expand upon and share it with others. Dancers and audiences alike.
However, with her name emblazoned on the letterheads, her ‘brand’ always looming, she views her upcoming departure as a kind of mini liberation. “The emotions, I guess, are partly about the freedom I think I’ll have,” she observes. “But I think there’s a whole rollercoaster of emotions coming between now and my actual leaving.”
Sitting back on the lounge, she riffs about the dream of work/life balance, of beach walks and branching out. “Once I leave, I want to really make sure that I do step away, and that the new Artistic Director has complete autonomy and freedom. I certainly don’t want to be looking over their shoulder.”
As though cued, she glances around the room, before adding, “Until then, I am aware of things like the storage area full of old costumes. Actually, that’s my main worry at the moment, because I don’t want to leave behind a lot of ‘stuff.’”
Beyond big pictures and everyday items, though, looms one last mountain. Before stepping away at the end of 2026, Guerin will appear on stage for the first time since 2013, for a small-scale, gallery space solo work. Here, things like retirement and new freedoms are grounded in a presence more personal, more profound. The body.
“It’s pretty terrifying actually. Lots of doubts and nervousness. I can’t do now what I could do even at 50, so it’s a very different body I’m working with.”
Having spent her whole life shaping and shifting the corporeal matter of our shared existence, Guerin hints at something we all contend with. The body is never the same, and entropy is chiselling away at it. Through this prism, she ponders the work in progress. “I find it quite interesting because I have to weigh a bit more heavily on my experience and ways of developing a concept for the work,” she explains. “It will involve dancing, but I feel like I have to temper that with a pretty thoughtful framework. It’s not going to be a wham, bam, high-kick, spin, jump solo.”
Thereafter, sometime before Christmas, a last day. A departure. Waving goodbye to the sign that spells her name. Saying hello to a residency in Italy next year, and to the temptations of new commissions. (Maybe take a walk on a beach somewhere.)
In the gathering gloom of mid-winter, these seem like broad blue horizons and, amidst the heave of leaving, they loom like lightness. As Guerin reveals, “I guess I never really got used to being a kind of figurehead, or the head of a company. People sometimes respond to me as this great authority, or as this person who has achieved a lot; and when I look back I think, ‘Yes, I have achieved much of what I wanted to’ but at the same time it never feels like being the authority.”
Without the glare of the trademarked reputation and the short-term pressure of always making work, life beyond LGI is looking like fresh impetus. “I’m not done yet,” she declares.
Projecting forward, she muses, “I don’t know what it’s going to feel like. I suppose there will be things like not getting invited to opening nights anymore. You know, little things like that, but I am genuinely looking forward to that sense of freedom that comes from not being in public.”
Thus endeth the interview, and with it a small sigh of something akin to relief. Soon, it will be Lucy time.
By Paul Ransom of Dance Informa.
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