PAUL: Hello, and welcome
to Regrets I've Had a Few.

I'm Paul Hunter, Artistic Director of Told
by an Idiot, and this is a podcast where I

talk to friends and colleagues delving
into what made them

the person they are today.

Hello and welcome.

My guest this month is a British Bolivian
theatremaker whose work exists

at the meeting point of performance
and the excitement of a sports spectacle.

Her work has been seen in Europe
and across the UK,

and her movement provocations have
happened at the RSC

and Shakespeare's globe.

Welcome, Jenni Jackson.
JENNI: Hello.

What a lovely introduction.
Thank you.

PAUL: Well, you're very welcome.

Thank you so much for joining us.

I'm going to jump straight in.

I normally jump in with something,
but I'm going to jump in with something

slightly different, and then I'll come
to the thing that we normally begin with.

I'm sure listeners will be intrigued.

I think actually part of my description is
how you describe yourself on your website.

Can you elaborate a bit on the British
Bolivian mix and what that is exactly?

JENNI: My mum is Bolivian and my dad is English.

They met in Bolivia when
my dad was working out there.

They got married, came back here,
and had a family.

I grew up between Coventry and Nuneaton.

We actually didn't get here until…
I think we spent some…

I was born here and then went out
to Bolivia for a bit and then I came

back via Spain for a little while.

I started school in the UK around the age
five, and then I've been here ever since.

So yeah, that's the mix.

PAUL: Do you still have relatives in Bolivia?
JENNI: Yeah.

There's some relatives in La Paz,
in Santa Cruz,

and then also some relatives in Argentina
and a relative in Spain as well.

PAUL: Wow.

I think we might have touched on this when
we had been working

and socialising and collaborating.

But of course, I know very little about Bolivia,
only the myth of Butch Cassidy

and the Sundance Kid ending up there.

I've always felt that you would be a very
good person to deal with that myth

of those two famous outdoors
and what happened in Bolivia.

So we may touch on that later.

Thank you for clearing that up, Jenni.
That's good.

Now, I am going to start with where we
normally start, which is I take my guests

back to their first theatre experience.

By that, I mean the first
thing you remember seeing.

It could have been in the family or
at school and what it was and what

you remember the impact being.

JENNI: I was thinking about this the other day,
what was the first

thing I might have seen?

I'm not sure that there's
one definitive production.

I think it's like a memory,
like a fragmented representation of

bits and pieces of things
that I might have seen.

I am going to crack out with panto because
I was taken to a panto when I was really

young, and I think it might have
been at the Birmingham Hippodrome.

I think we did all go as a family,
but we didn't go before Christmas.

We went after Christmas.

Pantos go on into the new year.

As a performer, that's weird
because you're doing Christmas.

Everyone has moved on.

But we would always go around towards
the end of the run,

which was near my birthday
I'd always know that my mum would have

spoken to the people because at the end,
they sometimes get people

up for birthday wishes.

I'd often get dragged up at these things.

But I remember the first time it
happening being like, What's happening?

Because it was a singalong,
and then they brought people up on stage

and then you would just stand there
and they would all sing to you

and you'd be like, yes, very well.

Then you go and sit down again.

But I remember there was quite a...

I think there was something
about it being really chaotic.

There was song and dance numbers,
there was crazy characters,

There was a lot of physical comedy,
which I really liked.

Then I suppose the other thing was
shows the nativity at school.

That was a big thing.

I went to a Catholic school,
and so we'd always do a nativity.

There was a mix of being in it,
but also watching other

people in a nativity as well.

PAUL: What parts did you get
to play in the nativity?

JENNI: I obviously wanted to be Mary,
but I was never allowed.

I was often one of the angel crew.

I was never angel Gabriel.

I was like an angel crew.

I think I might have played
the shepherd as well.

PAUL: Yeah, that's
all part of the mix, of course.

It's interesting what you say
with pantomime, because I

thought about this a lot.

We did a pantomime many years ago,
as Told by an Idiot,

I think we did a version of Aladdin
at the Lyric Hammerson, in which I played

Widow Twanky and Hayley played Aladdin.

We were very keen to
reinvestigate that form, that wild,

anarchic, as you say, crazy form.

Because in some ways,
if it didn't exist and was invented today,

it would be very experimental in its
wildness, which we all embrace as family.

That's it.

You see that, and then you obviously
you're doing nativity

and things at school.

At what point, growing up,
does performance become - can you remember

the beginnings of when it became something
you were really interested

in or passionate about?

JENNI: Yeah, I think there was a period
of time where we didn't go to the Panto.

We went to the Belgrade family show,
Christmas show,

and that was a new piece of writing.

I remember going to see that and feeling
really spellbound by this

different form of storytelling.

It felt like a panto,
but it was also character-driven.

It felt really new.

I didn't necessarily
always know the stories.

I remember feeling a bit jealous
and being like, I want to do that thing.

They're singing so beautifully or they're
like, they're really with the audience.

I just thought they cast a spell
and it felt really magical.

I remember thinking that
and feeling like I wanted to do that.

Then also at the same time,
I was experiencing a lot of life

performance through recordings.

We'd often watch the Royal Variety
performance as a family,

and they had a selection of all
the musicals and plays

and pop stars and stuff.

Then the Queen would arrive,
and it was all very glamorous and shiny.

But then also we were getting videos sent
over from Bolivia of these carnivals,

the Carnival of Oruro or university
parades where there was Bolivian dancing,

and my mum was playing
this stuff in the house.

I remember just trying to copy that stuff.

Another thing that was happening as well
was if family came over, they would dance

in the living room, which is not something
that happened on my dad's

side of the family.

No one would crack out a hanky at 1am when
you're meant to be in bed and you fall

asleep on the sofa,
but they're cracking out the hankies

and being loud and dancing.

There was performance or
doing something in front of each other,

started to come into my consciousness.

PAUL: Well, that's quite fascinating,
given the fact we started by talking

about Bolivia and Coventry.

You paint a brilliant picture of the
the notion of the

Royal Variety Performance
and Bolivian traditional dance.

Although in some ways I could imagine
a Bolivian traditional dance company

being on the Royal Variety Show.

They used to have bits of circus.

I always liked it when they had
a knockabout acrobatic,

they sometimes would have that.

They do the stupid thing where they all
pile up on top of each other

and off the trampoline.

That's quite interesting.

It was a performative thing going
on within the family home, I suppose,

then that you were experiencing.

JENNI: Yeah, we used to do shows and things,
me, my brother and my sister.

They would write out little bits of paper,
like tickets and things,

and then force my mum
and whoever was around to watch

these painfully crazy little shows,
which often involved

my brother being some chicken,
and we would chase him and cook him.

Just strange little games.

We were just inventing stories that we
found amusing that were just games that we

were doing, and we were
just like, stage that.

Strange things that come
out of children's brains.

PAUL: Yes.

What about when you move
through school a bit more?

You go into secondary school.

Is this starting to ferment a bit more?
The idea of…

Is it more dance or more acting,
or is there a mix of those

things that interests you?
JENNI: I think it's a mix of those things.

One thing that my mum and dad did try
to do was give us space to dance and do

youth theatre type stuff.

We would often be in and out of different
groups, and we'd do piano for a bit.

I remember we would do
dancing, definitely.

As kids, I did ballroom dancing and I
did the ballet tap modern thing.

Then my mum was also like,
I'm thinking about this a lot

because I'm making a show about it.

But my mum was really missing, I think,
folkloric stuff from her life from home.

The nearest thing that she could find
that excited her was Irish dancing because

we were in Coventry or near Coventry.

There's a big Irish community there.

We ended up doing Irish
dancing for a block of time.

Then instead of that was going on in like-

PAUL: You and your mum?
JENNI: No, my mum didn't do it.

She just made us do it.
PAUL: Okay.

JENNI: There was that that was
going on for a bit.

Then at school, we do school plays
and things, and I would always audition.

I was very nervous.

I was quite shy as a child in lots
of ways, even though I was

in and out of these groups all the time.

But I remember we did like…

It's Alan Ayckbourn's, Ernie's Incredible
Illucinations, which is a piece for kids.

We all auditioned for that.

I had no idea what I was going to get.

But I think everyone secretly wanted to be
like, Ernie, because

they on the big journey.
But I was cast as the dad.

I remember being like,
this is so much fun.

I got dressed up like a bloke
and we did a Yorkshire accent.

It was all very fun.

I remember feeling like, oh,
I can do some proper acting here.

I got very excited by, I don't know,
the idea of character,

my idea of storytelling,
of being in a company with other people,

just all the nervous energy you get before
you're on stage together,

the feeling of having
been through something together,

the feeling of the audience,
all of that stuff.

I got bitten by the bug at that point.

PAUL: It's all fermenting for you,
and then presumably,

or I don't know,
do you then start to think

as you go through school and then you're
thinking about what you do after school?

Is that when you start to think about,
Oh, I could do this?

Is that where the idea of training or
any of that thing starts to come in?

JENNI: Yeah.

At the end of school, I went to college
and I wanted to do theatre studies.

But my parents were very nervous about
the idea of going into an artistic life.

I grew up in working-class communities,
and my dad's a working-class man.

There was a lot of like,
You're doing really well at school,

so you should pursue that.

Then if
you still want to do acting or

performance, then you
should then do it after.

I was always being not groomed,
but driven, guided, guided gently towards

being a doctor and being a really useful
member of society and using

your intellect in that area.

I had some doctors in my family,
and I remember them being

very glamourous people.

They had very important jobs,
and everyone knew them.

People know the doctor in the town.

I remember being like, Oh, that's
quite cool, and it is really important.

I really am interested
in science and things like that.

I ended up the trade-off with my parents
was that I would do maths, biology,

and chemistry at A-level, and then
I was allowed to do theatre studies.

My curriculum between ages
of 16 and 18 was really full.

Around the age of 18,
I started to apply for drama schools,

and I just wasn't ready.

I didn't know any artists.

We didn't really have any…

I didn't know any actors.

At my college,
we had a few people that were really

passionate about teaching us theatre,
but we didn't have any

practitioners coming in.

There wasn't anyone that could say,
this is a realistic opportunity.

You can do this.

I ended up- It's like you
have no context for it.

PAUL: Yeah.

JENNI: I ended up going to university
and doing applied biology.

That was what I did.

PAUL: Where at?
JENNI: I went to Greenwich in London.

After that, my sister went to Middlesex.

That's quite important, I think,
because that opened up

a little doorway in my brain.

She did the, what was it called,
BA Performing Arts?

Is it the BAPA?
They used to call it BAPA.

She was with the dance focus, and she went
there and I remember being so jealous.

I was like, I really want to do that.

Anyway, I did the science for about nine
months, two-thirds of the academic year.

I was having such a rubbish time.

I remember going,
I can either leave and completely start

again, which I think in hindsight,
I probably should have done.

But I also was hanging out with a lot
of people that were doing sociology

and psychology, and I just found
that whole world just so fascinating.

I went to the dean and said, Listen,
I'm not doing very well on this course.

I'm really interested in this
with my qualifications,

my A-Levels, allow me to do this.

They let me transfer to this
psychology degree.

I did that for the rest of my time there.

PAUL: While you were at university,
were there opportunities to perform?

Were there theatre societies or that type
of thing, or were you not performing?

JENNI: I think there was, but I was partying.

I was, I was living my best student life
away from home, learning how to cook for

myself and going out clubbing in London.

It was only when I finished, I was like,
Oh, maybe there were some things

I could have done for free.
PAUL: No, no, no.

Very, very important, Jenni.
Very important.

But this is a...
I mean, we have lots of connections.

Obviously, we've worked together and we'll
touch on Cowbois later and

Told by an Idiot R&D stuff.

But I'm always interested in how
someone begins that journey

to make their own thing.

I know that's not all you do.

We'll touch on some of your brilliant
movement work for other people.

But how did the idea of going,
Okay, I want to make...

Because your work is very
personal when I think of your...

When I talk to you, it comes
from a very personal starting point.

It's not exclusively that,
but the beginning is often wrapped up

in who you are and where you come from.

When did you start to think, I want
to make it, rather than just interpret it?

That's the question.
JENNI: Yeah.

Well, I suppose I
went to East 15 and trained there.

That's quite an interesting
cooking pot of different processes

and and a lot of improvisation.

That was probably the first time I really
encountered a lot of physical theatre

and devising work.

I really enjoyed that.

But I had really thought that I
really wanted to do classical theatre.

By that point, I was like,
I want to do the Shakespeare,

and I want to get into that part
of the acting industry.

When I left,
I was finding myself being invited

into groups and rooms that were making
work that had lots of different people

in there, like some dancers,
live artists, actors.

I ended up being
in these spaces where the dramaturgy

and the writing was happening in the room.

I just really, really loved it and found
it really exciting that you didn't have

to just receive a script, that we could
make something together in the space.

I'd often have ideas for a show or ideas
for a scene, but no idea how to

I didn't build anything from it.

I didn't know what the form
was that it should take.

There came a point,
I think I might have been working

with Tangled Feet, who are
an outdoor theatre company.

Well, they do all sorts of work,
but I was working with them and they

were doing a lot of outdoor work.

We were on tour doing this beautiful piece
of work called All That Is Solid Melts

into Air, which was a big ensemble
cast with circus performers and stuff.

We were in the pub talking about
fights that you'd been in

or when you had to stand your ground.

It's because everyone has a story about
a fight that you'd been in or

a fight that you observed.

Some were like,
I've never been in a fight.

Some of them were really frivolous,
like the school playground fight.

Some of them were really profound moments
where the serious things were happening.

I remember being like,
Why am I so interested in that?

I'm thinking a bit about my other
practise, which is that I was doing judo.

I did judo as a teenager for a long time.

Going, I think there's something
- I want to tell these stories.

I want to find a place for them.

Maybe there's this like a kaleidoscopic
thing that I could make that deals with

all the different ways in which we're
standing up for ourselves or find

ourselves embroiled in a moment
that ends up in physical contact.

I got a little bit of time and space.

Pains Plough gave me a little bit
of rehearsal space,

like on the Sunday morning, on days off.

I would just go in and mess around with
my collaborating partner,

who's also my partner, Simon Jones.

We started building stuff from there.

But it took a while for me to realise
that I could, that I was allowed to,

because it was something that other
people, people that had been trained

as a writer or whatever, were making...

They would author a work,
not people that were bouncing

in and out of different worlds.

But I realised that that was
my secret, was that I was in between all

these different practises and that that
became a space for me to

explore everything.

PAUL: When you talk about the
beginnings of that and grabbing that space

on a Sunday morning and
using the mix of judo and your…

If
I'm right, that's the show where you talk

about the experience that your
mum has in the queue.

Remember you're telling us about
I suppose how you bring all

of those elements together.

My next question is,
you mentioned the collaborator.

How important are the other
collaborators for you?

You have an idea, but the team that you
put around that, how does that work?

JENNI: I think it starts with people that I know.

Often it's like friends, actually,
that I've shared space with or rehearsal

rooms with and that I feel safe
to share some of this material.

You said earlier
about these are very personal stories,

and I think I do often start
with something very personal.

I think that comes out of a desire
of wanting to place

Latin American or Bolivian lived
experience on stage or my experience

of living between cultures.

In order to do that, I've
realised that I need to feel quite safe

to explore that because I'm going to pull
out a load of material that may

not make it onto stage.

The collaborator is like,
yeah, it's so important.

I do a lot with Simon
because he's also a theatre maker,

and we have a shorthand physically.

So a lot of the fighting stuff,
we could go really far with each other

in a way that I think might take a bit
of time with a new collaborator there.

But also I think I'm interested in working
with the people who have a slightly

interesting take on the world.

They see the surrealness in something,
or they are lifting a stone and going,

Have you had a look at this?

It's a way of turning
the world upside down.

So playful, anarchic type
people I really like.

Those people I've often invited
into my process to work with me and

challenge me and argue with me about work.

We'll go, this is a really
weird idea I've got.

Can we just try it?

Or, I've made this thing on my own
in a room on a Sunday morning.

I'm going to show it to you.

And I'm looking at your face going,
Oh my gosh, what are they doing?

PAUL: Well, I totally relate
to what you're saying there.

I also relate, although I haven't done it
for some time, to another area of your

work, and obviously to where we met.

I mentioned Charlie Josephine's brilliant
play, Cowbois, and that's where we first

worked together when you were doing
the movement on that, and I was in it.

I haven't done it for many years.

I have done that job that you do,
but I always admire

people who do that job because
it's not straightforward often, is it?

I think one of the reasons,
that's why I stopped doing it many years

ago, was I think I had a couple
of experiences where I thought

I always felt that there was
a pressure for me to solve something.

This is in a room that isn't
particularly creative.

It's where you're handed over to try
and solve something and you've got about

15 minutes and you know what I mean?

All that nonsense.

The other side of it was,
I think this has changed now.

I think the world has changed.
I'm talking about my time a long time.

I always thought it was
never really valued.

It was often something that was tacked
on at the end of the day

when everyone was tired.

It never felt very integrated.

It felt like an excuse for the director
to disappear for a bit and have

another meeting or something.

I know all of that now isn't the same,
but I suppose my question is,

how do you find that shift of hats where
you're going from all your own ideas,

all your own stimulus,
into a room where you've got a very

specific brief sometimes
and you're very skilled at that?

But how do you find it?

How do you balance
that is what I'm saying.

JENNI: I think it is a tricky thing to balance.

I think It is like a different lens,
like a different pair of glasses that you

put on that you're
viewing the work through.

I think it can be…

I really love collaborating.

If I find a collaborator through
a movement process,

a movement direction process.

We might often work together a number
of times because I feel that movement

direction is like a making skill.

When it doesn't work,
it's when it is tacked on or you're like,

fix this scene that really needs more
workshopping time, probably, or

something else is not working.

The easiest thing to do is to ask
the movement director to stage it,

really, in some way.
I find that quite hard.

I don't like doing that.

But I do like making as part of a team.

I think for me, movement direction came
out of my acting, out of my theatre

process and my acting career.

I started to get asked to come into rooms
and help people find

something; I don't know how to…

an actor, that we need to age them up
and down, and I don't

really know how to do that.

I know you've got loads of devising skills
and you've got some dance

skills and all of this.
I was doing that for a while.

I didn't call myself a movement
director for quite a while, actually.

It was only when
I did something at the Young Vic with,

I did a production of The Mountain Top,
but I was like, okay, I think I can…

My name was like,
Movement Director at the Young Vic.

I was like, okay, I confidently
could say I'm doing that now.

But it is a Movement Direction opened up
a gateway that allowed me

to make my own work, actually,
to give me the confidence to lead a room,

to lead a process on my own.

For me, I feel like they're all the same.

They're all the same thing,
but just with different lenses on.

There's something about…

I think sometimes I can be
a better maker when I've been in a good

rehearsal room with a great team
and a great director and great actors.

I learn a lot about acting.

I learn a lot about directing and writing
and dramaturgy when I'm in those spaces.

I think sometimes I miss being
in an acting space when I've been in just

in a movement direction
space for too long.

I feel like I need to get back on my feet
and get back in my body and be

in front of an audience.
That's a challenge for me.

PAUL: Well, I certainly think how you express
that looking through different lenses,

very eloquently, I think
I can definitely get that.

I certainly have the same
desire when I feel like I've been

directing for too long, I want to perform,
and I think the performing a bit like you,

the performing informs the other.

I also think sometimes it's interesting
when you say you didn't quite

call yourself that until...

Obviously, you were doing something with
quite a big profile of the young Vic,

and you go, I am doing it.

I think sometimes we can all
be slightly in denial about it.

I remember we made a show called I
Am Thomas about 10 years ago,

and we collaborated with Simon Armitage,
the great poet who was

writing the libretto.

I always thought of it
as a show that had music.

Then about half way through rehearsal,
Simon in his very dry Yorkshire way said,

You know you're making
a musical, don't you?

Then I went, Well, maybe we are.

But it wasn't me being naive.

I just didn't want to somehow
on some level acknowledge that.

I just wanted it to be this
show we were doing.

I think it's interesting that, yes,
how we end up embracing something.

I can't obviously
finish with that talking about the joy

of Cowbois, because I think on the inside,
I was performing in I really felt it

was a brilliant example of many things.

But when you say about on the outside,
being in the off-stage team,

which you were, I always felt it
was brilliantly collaborative.

If I observed you all, Sean, Charlie, you,
all the other people, Grace, everybody,

it felt incredibly generous,
collaborative place that we observed.

We didn't observe conflict.

We observed healthy disagreement,
of course, as it should do.

But it felt like you all gelled.

As a result, I think we on the inside,
on stage, felt very confident by that.

Also the seamless way a room should work
where you're making something,

where there's no clunky
handing over, it's moving.

Is that what it felt like for you
on the outside on that show?

JENNI: Yeah, I would say so.

First of all,
Charlie invites collaboration through

the writing Charlie Josephine.

They are an incredibly collaborative
human, and they also also have

intrinsically movement in their bones,
and they also really like to play.

Charlie and I have known each
other for a little while.

We also work together on I Joan,
and there's an effervescence

about the way in which they build a world.

They invite collaboration.

Once you're in the space working together,
there's

a real honesty and generosity
and vulnerability to be like,

I don't know what.
I don't know if this is right.

I don't know.
Or I don't know what to do next.

Oh, but I've had an idea about this.

Instead of like, sometimes you need
to hide those parts of the conversation.

Then you're like, Well,
that is the process.

It's the working it out.

PAUL: I always felt that that was the case
with the brilliant group

of performers I was with.

It felt a genuinely a collaborative
space for the performer as well.

Actually, when you mentioned Charlie,
I think the way they were in the room

is actually a very confident
place to be, I think.

Sometimes people equate confidence
with always knowing what you're

doing or always having the answer.

That's not necessarily confident.

Confidence can be to say, I don't know.

That can be in the right sense.

It sounds perverse, but that can
be quite a confident position.

We're going to try and find out,
but you don't always need to know.

I think that's true.

Jenni, it's been lovely chatting to you.

We will obviously meet up again very soon,
but we draw to a close,

and I always end by asking my guests seven
rapid fire questions to which you answer

the first thing that comes into your head.

Forgive me if I pronounce any of these
questions or things within these questions

wrong, but let's kick off with number one.

I'm going to ask you
which food you prefer, a particular food,

I think from Bolivia,
and a particular food of Coventry.

Would you go for Salteña or Godcake?
JENNI: Salteña.

Salteña.
PAUL: Sorry.

JENNI: No, it's great.

PAUL: Which is a kind of baked
empanada, is that right?

JENNI: Yeah, with a meat filling.

It could be a variety of meats,
but it's very juicy.

PAUL: Oh, that sounds nice.

I was fascinated by a Godcake
from Coventry, which is a mince pie,

a mince pie without
the Christmas theme, apparently.

JENNI: I don't think I've ever had a Godcake.

PAUL: Well, I'm going to go to Coventry.

I guess I've said that wrong,
and someone from Coventry can let me know.

I'm from Birmingham, just down the road.

We never had Godcake there,
I'll assure you.

Performing or movement choreography?

JENNI: That's so hard.

I actually can't choose between the two.
I love them both.

PAUL: You don't have to do that.
Try this one.

David Bowie or Kate Bush?

JENNI: Bowie.

PAUL: Now, I think I've
hopefully got these right.

These are two wrestling moves.

Which do you prefer,
the German suplex or the splash?

JENNI: I like the suplex.

PAUL: Can you remind us, our listeners,
what a German suplex is.

JENNI: It's just that when you're out,
where you just…

If I got it right,
it's the one where you go upside down.

I'll just make sure.

PAUL: Yes, I was doing my research.

That sounds right to me.

Singing in the Rain or West Side Story?

JENNI: West Side Story.

PAUL: Well, yes.

If you could be in work by either of these
choreographers, which would you choose?

Pina Bausch or Hofesh Shechter?

JENNI: That's so hard.

I love Hofesh, but I think
it'd have to be Pina.

She's the OG.

PAUL: As we head towards the festive season,
Ten Lords are Leaping

or Eleven Pipers Piping.

JENNI: I like The Lords are Leaping.

PAUL: Of course you do.
I'm so glad you gave that.

I'd have been disappointed if
you just said 11 Pipers Piping.

JennI, thank you so much.

We will get together very soon,
but thanks for being with us.

Take care.
JENNI: Thank you so much.

PAUL: Dear listeners, if you've enjoyed this
Idiot podcast, please spread the word.