1. Please introduce with Yourself, tell the very essence of what kind of stage artist in dance You are?

    In few words I could define myself as a passionate but extreme meticulous lover and artisan of dance … once a kid after a show asked me what I was feeling while I was dancing. I answered her: a desperate happiness… She smiled!Yes for me in dance the fragility and strenght meet… In dance I found all the colours of life

  1. How You got to know about Your grandmother, primabalerina Mirdza Kalniņš in Latvia? (As we know, many family and culture contacts were broken during more than 50 years of soviet times, if people lived in different sides of so called “iron wall”and in the both sides was no any information.).

    I grew up among her beautiful pictures and articles that were written about her. She died in Rome where she spent her life from the 1934, so I was able to get in touch with some amazing materials she left about her career as dancer in Riga as in Rome. Unfortunately my father lost any contacts with any members of her family. I knew she had a sister (Erika) and finally next week when I will be in Riga I will be able to bring a flower in her grave because I find out where it is. Her mother (Emilia) followed Mirdza in Rome, her father Martino died shortly after she left. My father (now he is 80) remember that Mirdza was talking about some relatives in Australia, but unfortunately I don’t know more than that.

  1. How You started looking, digging for Your roots here, in Latvia. Please tell also, what You have learned here about the country and people, where Your Grandmother lived?And how it became possible to get oriented in archives documents or old newspapers, what are written in Latvian?

    I always felt very attracted by Latvia, and from my grandmother Mirdza. She died in the 1974, I born in the 1973 so we crossed each other life just for 11 months, but I always felt very closed to her, maybe because I wanted to dance since when I have memories, maybe because looking to her pictures I always though she was a proud and gorgious woman and dancer. But of course when I was a kid and later on an italian teenager, everything that was beyond the “iron wall” seemed so mysterious and inaccessible. Then I moved in United States for several years dancing in NY and finally just two years ago I was able to come in Riga and to start to get to know this wonderful, romantic, poetic, and fervent country. I think that life brings the solution when it is time. I got in contact through internet with the generous, accurate and sweet Astra Šmite of the National Library of Latvia that was preparing an article about Mirdza for the newsletter of the Historical and artistic Non Catholic Cemetery in Rome where she is buried, then I met four young latvian dancers that where studying with Erasmus Program at the National Academy of Dance in Riga: Liva, Inga, Madara, Marta. One of their teacher was my composition teacher when I was student in the Academy and she knew I had the dream to do a project on my grandmother, and she put me in contact with them. And they lead me as angels in my trip in Riga. So I felt right away welcomed, helped, and supported in my research. I am so happy that next week I will meet them again. They are so dear to my heart and I feel so grateful. Astra is still helping me to go through documents. With “Saknes” my research on my roots is not ended, and I am planning to come in Latvia again and again… even with my sisters and nephews!

  1. What inspired You most from Mirdza Kalniņš art and life?

    Her Passion, generosity, beauty, lightness and artistry but even a deep discretion and almost a childish way to see life and people… pure and sincere eyes. I think that we live in what we leave to others. And I think she left a lot in what she accomplished artistically and humanly, and of course she left a lot even genetically!… but I always felt, maybe for the reasons she died suffering a lot for a cancer, that she missed something … of course her country, her language, and maybe a last dance… I tried with this work to give her an opportunity to dance again in her city, for her loves, another dance, another again. As I wrote in the synopsis of this choreoraphy: ” Between shadows and lights we meet our past and our contemporaneity. It’s like travelling in parallel worlds, living them, and dancing between them. The images emerge from nothing. Like fragments of a puzzle I would love to find their place, but instead they place me in a space and in a time … of my memory … of her memory. I don’t create anything but I do let flow through me these dances like in a celebration, the insights, fragilities of our recent past although separated by years, interlace We live in our contradictions. We live in what we leave to others.”

  1. And what inspires You in General for Your creative work and simply as a human being?

    I love to explore the body in its infinite dynamic possibilities inside the small space created by its own limitations, I want to embrace the poetry of human fragility, its sacredness and the urgency of its passions. For me dance can become a meditation, an act of self transformation. The body has its own story, its own memories, and a dancer just through the movement bring us in contact with a story. Yoga influenced me a lot in this vision of dance and art. Through dance we refine the borders of our body-mind, and through dance we can transform the space in which we live like a ritual… It will never be the same.

  1. What do You wish to reveal and show us in Your performance Saknes? (By the way, will we see images of Mirdza Kalniņš in video?) What kind of performance it is? One dancer mono-performance? I suppose, it is already premiered in some other places, before coming to Latvia? How audiences reacted?

    It is a solo performance, a 40 minutes piece, and yes 🙂 you will see her… definilly! I did in Italy a video research on her. This research is not actually ended, because there is so much more material but I am still not be able to get in touch with, for authorizations and licences. But in the performance that you will see on sunday there will be video, pictures and …. even a Mirdza’s stage dress! It is a costume she used at the Opera in Rome and that she gave to a dear student of her, Marinella Santini. Marinella last year decided to give it to me as a gift. I feel very emotional to have it in stage.

    I wish I will be able to reveal the authentich respect I have for her, for her story, for her life, for her country. I wish I will be able to trasmit the passion and love she and I have for dance and life. This piece for me is a journey, a research on sounds, on moviment, on time, and everytime I danced Saknes, it revealed new colours, new thruths to myself as well. I debuted the full version last week in Rome, but I presented almost the whole work in New York and in Buffalo last autumn (the video was still in progress and I did some music change). The reviews were good, but I was even more happy that the audience was touched emotionally from it.

  1. How the music (by Vittorino Naso, Karol Shimanovsky, A. Plisevska) what You chose for Saknes correspond with Your idea?

    I know Vittorino Naso since almost 20 years and we worked together several times. He knows a lot about my dance and we are very similar because we come from a very strong classic background and it is from there that we move, starting to deconstruct and play with movements and sounds … searching for purity and essenciality… he knows which world I want to create right away. I Took off the beautiful piece of Karol Shimanovsky in the last and final version of the choreography, because I needed to hear more silence. And the silence that is interrupted by the sounds of the breathes, of the clothes and of the pictures…. you will hear a voice as well … you will hear a lot of gongs … to reveal at the end the music, a tango that I found out that it was written for my grandmother…. TheTango is played and recorded by the armenian pianist Irma Toudjian. The dance piece is a journey thorugh sounds as well…. and everything needs to bring us closer to Mirdza and just call her.

  1. Often people are more inherited and much more resembling their grandparents than parents. How do You feel something from Your grandmother in Your own human and artists face? Is that feeling strong and obvious?

    A lot of people always told me that I look like her. Her pupil Marinella Santini, a great dance teacher now, she told me that when I teach and dance or even when I just talk I have movements and attitude she used to have. But Mirdza had beautiful green eyes and instead I am more mediterranean as colours. I met an old dancer (she is in her 90) that started her carrer at the Opera in Rome when my grandmother was still there and she said that I look like her but I am taller! But I think that is the passion, love and dedication for dance and life that is bringing us together. While I was working on this piece I had this strong feeling. Sometimes I felt I am finishing somehing that she left undone.

  1. Please tell about Your family – are Your parents also dancers? How You made choice of Your profession and how You found Your own way in dance world?

    No one of my parents are dancers. They always supported me but never pushed me either. I always danced, even before to start studying ballet. I started in the Accademia Nazionale di Danza in Rome doing ballet, but since when I was teenager I felt that I was interested more in contemporary dance and that was what I wanted to pursue. And so dance it become my life. I am 43 now, I start to study when I was 6, I started my professional career in Rome when I was 19. When I was 22 I moved in New York city, now I am back in Italy and it’s from the 2008 that I mostly work in my own choreographic projects or collaborations. When I was a younger dancer I always prefered to work as freelancer to have opportunity to experiment dance and theatre in different directions and perspectives, more than to be in a repertory company. I choose mostly of the time to work with choreographers and directors that can create on me and that could give me space to bring out my own personality.

  1. How You felt in love with Yoga and how it changed Your life?

    I felt in love with Yoga in 1996 when I moved in NY city. I was going to take class in all the main dance studios at that time from ballet to all kind of contemporary and modern tecnique and at the Trisha Brown studio I tried a Yoga class as well and I just discovered a new world and a new love! Sometimes people ask me if I prefere Dance or Yoga. They are both part of my life, and they are so conneceted to each other but it’s like if God give me Yoga to allow me to live my dance and my art more freely and in a more balanced and peacefull attitude!

    11 I also see, that You are leading retreats and You are Reiki practicioner. Please, tell about that! Do everybody can learn to do that or there needs very rare talent?

    Yes I love to lead yoga retreats, we all need space to recharge, to heal our lives. To do Yoga you don’t need any special talent, you are right like you are. The big revelation for me when I started to practice it was that for the first time in my life I was moving my body like It really was, not working in what I was missing (often in dance is like that). And I love to teach yoga because I find it is a very democratic discipline: in class you can have at the same time a dancer, an older man or woman, an office worker, a journalist, a nurse, people that maybe otherwise could never meet, and there is always a beautiful exchange. It is not really about what you do but the quality of attention and intention you give at what you are doing. It is not really about doing but more undoing, to give us different perspectives and possibilities.

  1. I saw, between three Your favourite figures in art You have mentioned world wide famous visual artist Mark Rotko, who also came from Latvia. Please, comment Your special interest of his art and opinions.

    It was summer 2004 and I was dancing and teaching in Buffalo. Once I went to the Albright Knox Art Gallery and I was walking among Jaspere Johns and Pollock’s works when I turned to my right side and I Found my self in front to a Rothko painting. “Orange and yellow”… I started to cry… It was the first time I was crying in front to a painting… And I couldn’t stop myself … it was like if I was looking at my self in a mirror or recognizing something very subtle that I couldn’t described … His work just hit my heart, actually my whole body. So I started to search more for his work, and in New York I was able to see a lot of him, and to read his memories. Great sensitivity and great intellect… in his work there is so much life, so much heart, so much head, so much spirit… Art to me is an anecdote of the spirit, and the only means of making concrete the purpose of its varied quickness and stilness”. These Mark Rothko’s words are guidelines for my research on dance. I would love to go in Daugavpils, next time I will come in Latvia.

  1. Also would be nice to hear about Your passion with Pasolini and Beethoven.

    I toured till last year with my own choreography “Danze Rotte, Broken dances” dedicated to Pasolini and to the Rome that has been described by him. I feel the intensity of his words, of his choices, and actually for that piece I used some Beethoven Music as well! What I love of these two artist is their intensity, generousity, the great humanity that transpire by their work. They were honest, they were living for what they believed, like a vocation. Beethoven was the first free lancer composer of the Music History. I think that is great!


  1. And what about music styles and composers of today? Do You like, if new music is written specially for You, for Your performances?

    I do love contemporary music of course and I feel really blessed when I can have music written for my piece. I adore to work even with live music in performance of improvisation, in site specific work or even in concert. Music and dance are for me like time and space, inseparable. Among composers that I really enjoy and that inspire me are John Luther Adams and Arvo Part. Their music for me is sublime.

  1. Do You publish or use in Your performances Your own poetry? Do You often write a poetry?

    I published years ago some of my poetry and I used them in New York in more than a choreography. Lately I am writing less than when I was living in NY because I think that there I felt the need to keep nurturing my own language and I was pushing myself to write everyday at least three pages of whatever I was thinking just to keep in touch with the rhytm of italian. Now I don’t feel this need anymore but poetry is part of my choreographic process. Before starting to choreographe infact I write down thoughts, imagines, feelings, and often it is from there that I start to take the rhytm of the dance. It’s like if thorugh words I can create the worlds in which I can dance. Poetry makes clear the directions of my work I think. But often it is even the opposite, because when I dance I get in contact with some visions, like a meditation and from there words comes out. Even Yoga practice suggested me some writing too.

  1. How do You feel here in Latvia? Do You feel somehow at home?

    Till now I have been only in Riga and in Sigulda, but I hope year after year to discover more of Latvia. I like to get lost in Riga, to sit and just allowed voices, colours penetrating my skin and my heart. I am sorry that I can’t speak the language that it sounds so incredible sweet. I am like a cat that little by little take his space in the place. I felt so welcomed from the beginning, and I love the clear and crystalline light I perceive. I feel a sense of verticality, a sense of elevation while I am there, and I love that!

Intervista a Radio Danza:

Benedetta Capanna: danzo per conoscere le mie radici


Describe your choreography:
urgency passion authenticity or intense dense exciting

About creative process:
My artistic work is deeply inspired and moved by my yoga practice which reveals the potentiality, the authenticity and exigency of expression and creative impulse. My choreographic research, through meticulous work on the connection between mind-body wants to embrace the poetry of human fragility and the urgency of its passions. My work is even about space and the pleasure to travel fully within it. Often I love to work with live music. Music and dance are for me like time and space: inseparable.

About the artist, Why did you start choreographing?
it’s a need, an urgency… where words don’t go, dance arrives

Do you work in other mediums other than dance?
I write poetry. To write is a process that leads my choreographic process.

Any other special talents? Yoga teacher…

What artists are you influenced by?
Three artist influenced me more than the other for their sensitivity: Pasolini (as poet), Mark Rothko (the painter) and Beethoven (music). I love their intensity, the generousity, the great humanity that transpire by their work. They were unique, indipendent, crazy for life. An execptional mix of intellect, freedom and emotions. About dance I’ve been inspired by all the choreographer that put their own heart in their art. In general I love artists that become themselves chanel of art, life and thruth and I really get bored from the ones that make of art, chanel of their ego.
I see art like a vocation. we don’t choose to dance, dance choose us. As Rothko said: Art to me is an anecdote of the spirit, and the only means of making concrete the purpose of its varied quickness and stillness.

What is your most memorable moment as an artist?
There are so many beautiful moments and I hope that the next one will be even more memorable! But right now I was thinking at the real last one. It was a week ago, after I performed Green3, a woman from the audience come to me crying and smiling for the emotions. She told me that I changed her way to see things and that I let her be grateful for life. She gave me a special gift, she was wearing a beautiful mala made of crystals, she took it away from her neck and she gave it to me. To touch other people life is the best reward and the most memorable moment.

Have a quote you live by?
Wisdom is knowing I am nothing, love is knowing I am everything, and between the two my life moves. Nisargadatta Maharaj

foto@Daniela De Angelis

foto@Daniela De Angelis

Dalla “Voce di New York”:

DANZE ROTTE IN SCENA! A New York grazie a Pier Paolo Pasolini

La Coreografa e Ballerina Benedetta capanna porta il suo spettacolo, un mix di danza, testi e citazioni cinematografiche con protagonista la città di Roma

Una passeggiata nella quotidianità romana, tra la voglia di fuggire e quella di restare, scandita dalle suggestioni di uno dei più grandi poeti e intellettuali dell’Italia contemporanea: Pier Paolo Pasolini. Questa in sintesi l’anima di Danze Rotte, In Scena! a New York nell’ambito dell’Italian Theater Festival: un mix di danza, testi e citazioni cinematografiche che ha come protagonista la città di Roma. Chi l’ha ideato, “col cuore e tanta passione”, è Benedetta Capanna, coreografa e ballerina a New York ormai di casa (ci ha vissuto per molti anni), che collabora con Excursus, un’Associazione Culturale per la produzione di danza supportata da MIBACT; la sua ricerca coreografica, attraverso un lavoro meticoloso sulla connessione tra mente e corpo, si propone di abbracciare la poesia della fragilità umana e l’urgenza delle sue passioni. Il titolo del lavoro che la Capanna presenta a New York prende spunto proprio dalla dimensione che la coreografa ha vissuto, e vive, con la città eterna: danze che non giungono mai a un termine a causa di “un imprevisto, una difficoltà, un impedimento, uno sciopero…un ricominciare da capo, fino a perdere il senso di ciò che stavo facendo”.

Da dove è nata l’idea di questo progetto teatrale?
Questo progetto è nato a fine agosto del 2013. Ero tornata a Roma dopo la mia tradizionale e immancabile vacanza in Friuli (mia madre è di Pordenone), durante la quale grazie alla professoressa Angela Felice, direttore del Centro Studi Pasolini, avevo ripercorso in una giornata poetica tra temporali, campagna, anedotti e infine un sole che accarezzava l’anima, i luoghi chiave del periodo che Pier Paolo Pasolini passò in quella zona (un paese di temporali e primule). Da quel momento mi sono sentita come accolta dentro una bolla, una visione, un certo modo di vedere e vivere le cose. Tornata a Roma, ero un po’ amareggiata per non dire depressa, un po’ delusa e infastidita dall’ambiente artistico della mia città. E inizialmente per non soccombere a questi pesanti stati d’animo, mi sono cominciata a nutrire di immagini, film, libri di Pasolini, pagine spesso aperte a caso, e ricordando quell’indimenticabile passeggiata friuliana estiva, dove le scarpe facevano schioccare i sassolini delle strade di campagna, mi è venuta voglia di dare un senso al mio vivere a Roma, di essere nata a Roma. In fin dei conti Roma è la città ideale per dare senso alla propria ardente solitudine e forse finalmente farla morire. Come ho scritto anche nella sinossi dello spettacolo: “Voglio fare pace con la città in cui sono nata, dalla quale scappo e in cui ritorno. Città che non capisco, città un po’ madre e un po’ matrigna, città dell’esclusività e dell’esclusione, a volte accogliente a volte irriconoscente.… Una città che prima ti applaude e ti osanna, per poi abbandonarti e scordarsi il tuo nome. Roma che perde la sua identità e non riesce a ritrovarla nella solitudine dei corpi di chi ci vive. Vorrei solo far sedere questa mia solitudine, farla riposare per qualche istante, far cadere la fatalità e credere al potere che c’è tra le mie mani”. Alcuni anni fa, ritornando da New York, atterrai a Fiumicino in un tramonto romano fatto di luce albicocca. Sì, perché solo a Roma la luce è così, e mi tocca il cuore, riempe le crepe del cuore. Questo progetto è per quella luce albicocca, per la sua poesia, e per lo stupore e commozione che ogni volta mi provoca. Girando con lo scooter nel caos romano quotidiano, a volte ai semafori mi guardo attorno, e mi commuove la bellezza di questa città e mi fa rabbia perché troppo spesso non ce ne rendiamo conto. L’amore e la gratitudine per la bellezza dovrebbero essere coltivate, magari insegnate a scuola, per non perdere ciò che siamo e ciò che potremmo essere.

Prima volta a New York?
Non è la mia prima volta a New York. Ho vissuto in questa meravigliosa città per diversi anni e spesso ci ritorno. La mia prima volta risale al 1994, in tour con I Danzatori Scalzi, compagnia di danza romana; andammo anche in New Mexico e atterrai a New York proprio il giorno del mio 21 compleanno…che bei ricordi! Roma è l’amante che sai che prima o poi ti deluderà, New York è l’amico ti abbraccia forte quando ritorni. Mi ci sono trasferita successivamente a 22 anni e questa città ha segnato il mio ingresso nell’età adulta, mettendomi di fronte a tante situazioni nelle quali ho trovato nel bene e nel male aspetti di me e risorse che forse non avrei mai tirato fuori. Il mio allontanarmi da New York è stato un po’ rocambolesco, ma una parte di me non l’ha mai abbandonata. Le amicizie più care che ho anche ora, dopo 20 anni quasi dal mio arrivo nella grande mela, risalgono a quel periodo. A New York ho lavorato come danzatrice in diverse compagnie e ho anche cominciato a presentare i miei primi lavori coreografici. Uno di questi Necklaces (collane) all’Abron Art Center è stato con Laura Caparrotti e la Kairos Italy Theatre (con la quale ho collaborato anche per Black Paintings al The Kitchen e al The Fringe Festival). Negli ultimi due anni a New York ho girato il film Epiphany of Returning con Richard Sphuntoff proprio al Baad Bronx dove presenterò le mie Danze Rotte il 18 Maggio. Più recentemente, ho collaborato con Dance To the People presentando al Movement Research il frutto di una collaborazione fatta attraverso l’insegnamento in alcuni seminari di danza. Devo dire che a New York ho sentito sempre maggiore supporto e ho trovato persone ed artisti che hanno sempre creduto in me. New York è la città dove, se ti rimbocchi le maniche, puoi riuscire a trovare uno spazio e far sentire la tua voce. Per me che sono tendenzialmente un’insicura, ma anche una grande lavoratrice e amante dell’arte e di chi la fa col cuore e con la testa, sicuramente è stata una città in cui mi sono sentita più sicura e ascoltata, senza fare ciò che non so fare… public relation!

Fare teatro in Italia oggi è facile o difficile?
Credo che la difficoltà di fare Teatro e Danza è superata dalla difficoltà di distribuzione degli stessi nel territorio. Il poco sostegno nella produzione infatti può essere sopperito da tanta forza di volontà, desiderio, determinazione, ma se non ci sono circuiti che fanno girare gli spettacoli o se questi circuiti sono chiusi e in mano a lobby, la cosa diventa molto più complessa. Viene tolta la voce a chi non è dentro, e a chi ha una visione o un orientamento diverso da quelli che detengono i privilegi. E quando chi detiene certi poteri e privilegi è un artista mancato sono dolori…

A tuo avviso il teatro italiano è esportabile? Pensi che all’estero ci sia interesse per il teatro italiano?
Credo che il made in Italy anche in ambito artistico e culturale sia apprezzato. La marcia in più e il friccico di fantasia, ci viene quasi sempre riconosciuto. Però in generale anche questo avviene a livello indipendente. Non c’è tanto interesse da parte delle Istituzioni di creare scambi, o supportare questi, se non sono all’interno di circuiti già stabiliti.

Raccontaci protagonisti e temi dello spettacolo.
Questa coreografia è una passeggiata nella contraddittoria quotidianità romana, e l’altalenarsi della voglia di fuggire e di immergersi in essa. Una passeggiata scandita dalle suggestioni, descrizioni e risonanze/assonanze di uno dei più grandi poeti e intellettuali dell’Italia contemporanea: Pier Paolo Pasolini. Sarebbe presuntuoso fare un lavoro incentrato esclusivamente su di lui, per la complessità del suo personaggio e la vastità e l’eclettismo del suo lavoro. Questa danza è dialogo con lo scandire del tempo romano e coi testi e le citazioni cinematografiche – sì, perché Roma sappiamo bene ha un suo scorrere del tempo e una sua luce – e in fin dei conti questa danza è dialogo con la stessa città che a volte sembra sorda o muta a chi ci vive. La protagonista è Roma, o forse il mio desiderio di assaporarla pienamente, di viverla col sue potenzialità. La mia danza che dialoga costantemente con le proiezioni, crea un botta e risposta, e delle riflessioni su questo viverci. Il titolo è Danze Rotte, perché le giornate che trascorro nella piccola grande città di Roma, spesso le vivo come delle danze che non riesco mai a terminare. C’è sempre un imprevisto, una difficoltà, un impedimento, uno sciopero…un ricominciare da capo, fino a perdere il senso di ciò che stavo facendo. Tutto sembra spezzettarsi, perdere senso e sviluppo. Ho la perenne sensazione di camminare senza arrivare mai. Poi però guardo il suo cielo e allora ho l’impressione che una grande finestra si apra a questo azzurro nel mio intimo, si spalanca improvvisamente nel vento e mi chiedo se a Roma diventiamo ombre di questo passato, ombre schiacciate a terra dal passato, ma come ombre pur sempre figlie della luce.

Quale è stata la cosa più bella e quella più difficile di realizzare questo spettacolo?
La cosa più bella e difficile è stata senz’altro il perdermi e il ritrovarmi in tutto questo viaggio. La creazione di ogni spettacolo è sempre un percorso iniziatico verso un qualcosa che spesso all’inizio non sai mai cosa chiaramente sia (un bisogno, un battito, una suggestione?); per quanto puoi avere le idee chiare sulla direzione verso la quale vuoi andare c’è sempre un punto di crisi, in cui avviene una trasformazione. La creazione ti porta in uno stato sottocorticale dove riesci a far venire fuori inconsapevolmente cose inaspettate, che magari riesci a capire anche te solo dopo anni. Ha quindi un potere catartico, come lo stesso portarlo in scena. La difficoltà di stare da soli in sala prove è che spesso rischi di perderti e che tutto il lavoro e la ricerca fatta possano diventare troppo introspettivi e poco fruibili dall’esterno. Quindi c’è bisogno anche di maggiore tempo per capire cosa funziona o no, riprendendo il lavoro col video, lasciandolo decantare, ritornandoci dopo con mente più serena. La struttura generale dello spettacolo ce l’ho avuta chiara sin dall’inizio, soprattutto perché era chiara nella mia testa la scansione ritmica musicale che volevo dargli e le immagini che volevo proporre. Ma in questa griglia ho poi esplorato e trasformato molte cose e sicuramente me stessa. Devo ringraziare Vittorio Giannelli che mi ha aiutato nella prima tessitura musicale, punto di partenza per l’evoluzione successiva. Il lavoro infatti è andato avanti a tappe. Trovato il punto di partenza ritmico e suggestivo, ho dato dei vuoti e delle sospensioni alla danza che volevo fossero domande a cui il video potesse rispondere. E qui subentra la parte che per me è stata più divertente e nuova. Devo ringraziare il regista Mauro Raponi, che mi ha donato il suo talento e le sue capacità, per realizzare questo lavoro. Se non ci fosse stato lui questo spettacolo non sarebbe stato lo spettacolo che volevo fare. È stato molto bello inoltrarsi per Roma, vedere le sue mille facce, come l’imponenza di Piazza del Popolo e la semplicità degli ex voto a Via Prenestina, o trasformare il terrazzo del palazzo dove abito in un set cinematografico! È importante sentire che qualcuno capisce il tuo punto di vista e usa il suo per creare qualcosa di speciale. È bello imparare dagli altri, vedere come forme artistiche differenti possono arricchirsi a vicenda. E nel condividere è più difficile perdersi, soprattutto quando quella condivisione parte da un bisogno profondo di un dialogo vero e pieno di rispetto, con quello che sarà successivamente il pubblico.

Come convinceresti il pubblico a venire a vedere lo spettacolo?
Questa è la domanda più difficile. Sono pessima a pubblicizzare me stessa; ma posso solo dire che il lavoro è stato fatto col cuore e con tanta passione. Mi viene in mente una citazione dal poeta: “Per quali strade il cuore / si trova pieno, perfetto anche in questa / mescolanza di beatitudine e dolore”? Grazie Pier Paolo Pasolini.

Dalla “Voce di New York”:

Da SUSANNA FANZINE, giornalino del Festival Teatri di Vetro, 2011

1.Nel processo creativo come si è articolato il rapporto tra il testo di Auster e la ricerca della tua danza? E quale direzione ha preso questo processo nel reinventare la performance per lo spazio dello stenditoio?

I libri sono come i maestri; arrivano quando si è pronti a riceverli! L’incontro con il testo di Auster è stato casuale; stavo curiosando in una libreria, quando mi sono imbattuta in una sua raccolta di poesie. In questa, ho trovato “White Space”, che è il testo di passaggio tra Paul Auster poeta e Paul Auster narratore. La cosa che mi ha colpito leggendo subito le prime frasi del testo sono stati i ritmi, le suggestioni, le atmosfere, le dinamiche che erano poi le stesse che sentivo e cercavo in sala prove negli stessi giorni attraverso la danza e così è nato questo fondersi. Da qua sono usciti due assoli, complementari ma anche indipendenti l’uno dall’altro. Nel primo è lo scorrere del tempo a essere sottolineato, il correre umano appresso al tempo, il dover recuperare il tempo perso;  nel secondo assolo (Non essere mai altrove che qui, Never to be anywhere but here), che presenterò a Teatri di vetro, c’è invece la caduta nel tempo, nella sua pienezza, nel qui e nell’ora, quando il tempo cancella il suo stesso ossessivo scorrere.. Leggendo il testo di Auster sentivo tanta danza, tanto respiro, tanta New York, città dove ho vissuto parecchio e che amo. La cosa curiosa che ho scoperto successivamente, facendo ricerche sul testo, è che l’autore lo scrisse proprio dopo essere andato a vedere una prova di una compagnia di danza a Manhattan. Quindi è interessante che una danza possa ispirare un testo che a sua volta ispira un’altra danza; una reazione a catena, causa ed effetto… come ogni altra cosa nella vita…

Le performance si reinventano sempre, un po’ come fare all’amore. Muoiono quando non c’è più stupore nel viverle. Riproporla nello stenditoio, mi emoziona; il posto è molto bello, un palcoscenico del quotidiano; e portare la danza nel quotidiano, da dove in fin dei conti nasce, in un luogo dove si vive, ci si incrocia, dove sono appese le nostre realtà anche apparentemente più banali, può dare secondo me alla coreografia più valore, sottolineando la caduta nel “qui ed ora” e del piacevole perdersi in esso.

2. Che significa per te praticamente abbandonarsi all’ingenuità del semplice sentire? E come questa questione si integra con la scrittura?

L’abbandonarsi all’ingenuità del semplice sentire, è una delle cose più piacevoli ma alla fine anche più difficili da attuare. E’ una cosa sulla quale sto “lavorando” molto attraverso la mia pratica e lo studio dello yoga che mi accompagna ormai dal 1996. La pratica è un po’ come morire e rinascere quotidianamente, dandoci l’occasione di affinare la nostra attenzione, il nostro sentire, l’Ascolto; quindi ci apre a nuove possibilità di azione e di percezione. Partire dal sentire corporeo nel movimento ad esempio ci aiuta ad abbracciare le nostre fragilità, trovando la poesia nascosta dietro di esse, ma ci può anche aprire a possibilità che non avremmo mai immaginato. Un antico testo Yoga dice che per andare avanti nel proprio percorso ci vogliono due elementi: Pratica costante e assidua, accompagnata al non attaccamento ai risultati, al non avere aspettative. Secondo me questo è valido non solo nella ricerca spirituale, ma anche in quella artistica. In “parole yogiche” potrei dire che nell’ascolto di sé la vita si incarna e l’intelligenza profonda del corpo e dell’azione si rivela. Dove sono quando non sono presente a me stesso? Quando perdo il senso dell’integrità del mio essere? Con parole di Paul Auster: Rimanere nel mondo dell’occhio nudo, felice come sono in questo momento. Non essere mai altrove che qui.

3. Provieni da una formazione accademica. Quale e quanto spazio occupano le tecniche formali nella tua concezione di danza?

La formazione accademica è come l’analisi logica e grammaticale; la loro conoscenza ti permette di esprimerti più chiaramente e di imparare più facilmente anche le lingue straniere. Lo studio della tecnica non deve essere certamente fine a se stessa, ma una maniera per renderci più liberi fisicamente e mentalmente. Vanda Scaravelli, una sofisticata yogina e mia fonte di ispirazione anche artistica, dello stesso yoga ha scritto: “Yoga should not be a training for body control; on the contrary, it must bring freedom to the body, all the freedom it needs.” La stessa cosa vale per la danza. In qualsiasi tipo di lezione dal classico al contemporaneo cerco questa libertà: la possibilità di esplorare i colori del mio corpo, delle mie emozioni e del mio mentale e la relazione di questi con lo spazio e il tempo.  Spesso come interprete in un periodo della tua vita hai bisogno di studiare in un determinato modo, poi magari per un’altra produzione hai bisogno di un training completamente diverso. Ho avuto la fortuna di danzare a New York in produzioni molto diverse: da spettacoli improntati su un linguaggio “contemporary ballet” al butoh; dalle performance post-modern a lavori basati sulla danza tradizionale coreana. Quindi ho sempre alternato lezioni di classico, cunningham,  release, afro-haitiano, improvvisazione, ma anche palestra, corsi di meditazione, piscina, arti marziali, feldenkrais, yoga, etc… Fortunatamente all’estero si tende meno ad etichettare: i labels sono la fine stessa della ricerca artistica. Qua in Italia siamo ancora troppo legati a gruppetti, caste e manierismi, siamo provinciali. Personalmente credo che sia importante anzi indispensabile per un danzatore contemporaneo conoscere a fondo la danza, esplorarne le tecniche, gli stili e le tendenze per poi essere consapevoli di che scelte fare nel momento di un’eventuale creazione o bivio artistico; maggiore è la quantità di parole che conosci, maggiore sarà la possibilità di far arrivare il tuo pensiero o volutamente nasconderlo. Un conto è rifiutare qualcosa perché lo conosci, un conto è rifiutarla per pregiudizio o frustrazione.  Nulla in fin dei conti è formale, se non nella testa, nell’intenzione; spesso anche l’improvvisazione o ciò che viene definito di ricerca può esserlo. Paradossalmente alcune lezioni di ballet con una ricerca sulla musicalità e ritmo specifici, un allineamento fisico e respiro basati su principi di anatomia e fisiologia del movimento molto chiari, possono risultare molto più attuali, utili e funzionali alle dinamiche performative contemporanee. Anche da spettatrice amo tutta la danza quando è vera, sentita ed autentica; ma di nuovo questa autenticità e purezza nasce dall’interno dell’artista stesso.

4. Di che cos’altro è fatta la danza oltre al movimento per te?

La danza è fatta da tutto ciò che questo movimento trasporta. Mi viene in mente un mio viaggio lungo il Gange. Il movimento del corpo è come l’argine di un fiume; segue la sua fluidità e il suo scorrere, ma non ti fermi a guardare l’argine … Guardi il fiume; senti il suo rumore, vedi le sue cascatelle, le ombre degli alberi che si riflettono sull’acqua, i villaggi che incontri, le persone che vedi bagnarsi dentro le sue acque, le acque che si ingrossano e pochi chilometri più avanti sembrano seccarsi … i colori che cambiano a seconda le ore del giorno, i bambini che si lavano insieme alle vacche sacre. Le puzze e gli odori che da esso emergono. Ecco per me la danza è tutto questo. Frammenti di quotidianità, di ricordi, di vita, che riemergono, scorrono e si fissano.

Oltremovendo, foto di Federico Ugolini

Oltremovendo, foto di Federico Ugolini


By Curt Steinzor

Mind-Body Techniques: Dance and Yoga

The Benedetta Capanna Interview, Part I I had the good fortune to be able to talk with visiting Italian dancer and yoga teacher, Benedetta Capanna, on the occasion of a recent visit to Buffalo in order to learn a new solo from Buffalo’s Elaine Gardner. She and Capanna originally met when Capanna took classes from Gardner during a week-long intensive for professional dancers in Modena, Italy. Gardner, impressed by Capanna’s expressiveness and power as a dancer, invited her to visit —which she did last month. Capanna’s story about her experiences growing up in Italy, and her discovery of yoga —and rebirth as a dancer— have much to tell us here in America about the common issues facing budding artists from whatever country. The interview is in two parts, and is slightly condensed. Those wishing to read the entire interview can do so by visiting

Steinzor: Tell us about your training. Capanna: I started when I was six years old in the Accademia Nazionale di Danza [National Academy of Dance] in Rome, in the program for kids that goes from 6 to 9 or 10 years old.  Then I did the audition and I started to do the regular programs, they last for eight years, in the same institution.  In the meantime I was also attending the regular scuola media [middle school].

And then, when you graduated from there… Capanna:    I didn’t.  I graduated from the [scuola media] school but not from there.  I had a very bad teacher that made me lose one year in the Academy, and the year after I had a better teacher.  But another one prepared me to do a contemporary dance competition that I won.  In the meantime, I took the high school diploma.  But after that, I got so exhausted, because the Academy was still trying to push me down—I just quit dance for a while.  At the point when I started again, I didn’t want to go back in the Academy, because I wanted to find again the joy to dance.

And where did you find it? Capanna:    I found it doing contemporary modern dance.  It was in different private studios, where you could go to take open classes.  I was eighteen, I graduated—I started to dedicate myself more to modern dance.  It actually was what I preferred to do even earlier.  When I was a kid I knew that I wanted to dance, and I was going to see ballet and stuff—but as soon as I started to do composition, improvisation, and I started to see things like a movie of Alvin Ailey, or Carolyn Carlson, I felt that that was what I wanted to do.

What was it about the Accademia that disappointed you so much?  It wasn’t just that it was hard. Capanna:    No—because actually, I like to work hard.  I’m happy when somebody pushes me to improve myself.  But what made me disappointed was that they were not trying to create artists and to develop human beings, but they were trying, kind of, to make a clone of a stereotype kind of ballerina.  So if you were not that kind of dancer person that they like, you didn’t have any hope over there.  I remember when I was 12 years old, they made me lose more than 10 kilos [22 pounds] because I was supposed to be skinnier.  But that was at a time when I was growing up, and getting taller, and that made me so weak that I hurt my back because I didn’t have any more strength in it to do the work.  But to lose weight was the only way to have the approval of the teacher.  And when you are a kid, you’ll just die to have the approval of your teacher.  For me, it was a bad environment.  They weren’t severe, but at the same time they treated the kids badly.  And they’re still doing it.  Saying things like, “your legs are like pig’s legs” and “oh my gosh, you are so ugly, how can you think of becoming a dancer”.  When I speak with people who are studying over there, who are doing the teacher training, they say that nothing has changed.  And some of the dancers that they treated well, they treated too well.  Even if they were good, as soon as they went out form the Academy, at the first audition where somebody would say, “sorry, you are not the right type”, they just lost their minds and became anorexic, or a lawyer.

Anorexic, or a lawyer? Capanna:    [laughs] And actually, I discovered that, of [all the students in] my course, I’m the only person that is still dancing.  The others got married or housekeepers or clerks or…[silence] Let’s back up.  You’re 18, you’re doing projects, you’ve taken class with different people… Capanna:    Yes, after the diploma at school, I had a moment of depression.  But once I had a dream.  I was on a stage, and I was kind of naked, and I wanted to dance, but I had these invisible chains around me.  It was kind of a movie, but I couldn’t get up and dance.  So when I woke up, I started to dance again.  A friend of mine told me there was a good modern dance teacher.  I went there, and she did a good class, so I started to study with her.  She’s actually an American.  Her name is Roberta Garrison.  She really helped me to refocus on my dance.  Then, after that, I went on scholarship to the Laban Centre in London during the summer to see how it was and to see if I really wanted to be in London.  But then an Italian choreographer, Patrizia Cerroni, asked me to start working with her, and so I started.

Was that your first professional work? Capanna:    Yes.

So, then you were working.  That must have helped your self-esteem. Capanna:    Yes, even though, I have always had inside me a lot of insecurity.  I will never be like someone who’s, like, “ha! I’m doing great!”  I always feel like it’s never enough.  I’m never really satisfied.  So, after her, I had another job in Naples, at the Teatro Bellini.  And so, from there, the choreographer that was doing that piece, he called me to work with him in his company.

And this was all modern. Capanna:    Yes, but the work in the Teatro Bellini was more like dance theater.  It was “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”, a theater piece, but in the woods part, the more magical part was performed by a dancer.  I was dancing, but there were the voices of Titania and Oberon, recorded— and all amplified and deformed a little.  So I was dancing but kind of acting and, [laughs] playing too.  It was challenging.  I was kind of young, and it was a big responsibility.  I had fun.

And it had a long run. Capanna:    Yes, we toured for two years.

Did you go to other countries with it? Capanna:    We went just to Switzerland.  But, the choreographer of “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”, Aurelio Gatti, had a company in Rome, and so after we finished touring, he called me to work in his company.  And with him, we traveled a lot. [Part II of the interview follows next month.]

Mind-Body Techniques: Dance and Yoga The Benedetta Capanna Interview, Part II This is the second part of a two-part interview I conducted with visiting Italian dancer and yoga teacher Benedetta Capanna, on the occasion of a recent visit here in order to learn a new solo from Buffalo’s Elaine Gardner.  She and Capanna originally met when Capanna took classes from Gardner during a week-long intensive for professional dancers in Modena, Italy.  Capanna’s story about her experiences growing up in Italy, and her discovery of yoga—and rebirth as a dancer—have much to tell us here in America about common issues facing budding artists everywhere. I know you’re concentrating on yoga now.  How did that start?  Many dancers don’t start doing yoga until they’re too old to dance anymore. Capanna:    For me it started the first time I went to New York.  I went to take class at Tricia Brown’s studio, and one of the teachers that was giving class, Kevin Korton, was a yoga teacher as well.  In his class, he used a lot of yoga.  I was feeling good when I was doing that kind of movement.  I was so curious, I tried to do a real yoga class with him.  It was the most beautiful thing I had experienced in years.  In Rome I had done a little bit of tai chi, but even though I thought it was a very interesting discipline, I didn’t have the same reaction that I did when I did yoga.  I mean, in my first class, I just cried.  It was like something was opening inside me, like there was a curtain in front of my eyes that suddenly opened up.  It was an internal experience.  I had never felt that I fit into anything: in the Academy, my body wasn’t right, I was too skinny or too fat—I’ve always had a problem to fit into something.  When I was a kid, I was always feeling the weakest part of my body.  Nobody was trying to let me see the beauty my body or my mind or personality could have.  Instead, when I took my first yoga class, the teacher said, it doesn’t matter who you are, how your body is, don’t be competitive, just be yourself.  It just made me feel so good.  It was the first time I was working with my body and not against my body.

So was it then that you decided to pursue yoga? Capanna:    It was in 1996 when I decided to try and stay in New York. So from there I started to study yoga.  At the beginning, in and out.  Sometimes I was so focused.  Other times, I didn’t have the money to take class, or couldn’t go because of my very full schedule.  But every time I was feeling that I was really getting lost, there was the yoga that would bring me right up.

So your interest in yoga isn’t just because it helps your dancing? Capanna:    No—but it helps my dance too.  I feel younger as a dancer than I did when I was 20.  When I first started to do yoga, I was always having a lot of injuries.  My back and vertebrae were compressed, because when I was weak from losing too much weight, I was doing entrelacé [a dance step].  But now I feel much stronger.  I’ve always been flexible, but now I know how to use my flexibility much more.  I’m more aware when I dance because, when you have high arms and legs, sometimes it’s difficult to get compact, and to be aware of everything.  And yoga was a big tool for me to be compact.  Also, artistically, with yoga you have to go much more inside, to be more aware of your thoughts, of your sensations, even to be more honest with yourself.  And that, when you perform or you want to create art, I think is just important.

By going inside, what do you mean?  Do you mean becoming more aware of yourself? Capanna:    Yes, more aware of myself, of my thoughts, my sensations even to be more honest with myself.  I know at the end what I really feel, what I really want.

Does it help with performing onstage, aside from dancing in the studio?  Those can be two very different experiences. Capanna:    Yes, I think it does, because it helps you with the breathing, makes you feel calmer.  Sometimes, onstage you’re afraid you won’t be able to do something.  Yoga helps you be much more in the present moment.  Sometimes also, when there is a big technical or mental aspect of the performance, it helps you bring the dance out at a more spiritual level, helping the body mind and spirit work together.  For me, the spirituality in art is very important.  I find this often in the Asian expressions of art: Japanese theater, Butoh, Indian dance.  When you go to dance, people can see it.

But how does yoga itself help you with that, I mean beyond the dance aspect? Capanna:    Because it’s the principle of yoga.  I try to dance when I do yoga, and to do yoga when I dance.  Personally, for me, it was the way I rediscovered the joy to dance, the honesty of this joy.  And when you go to perform, not to think just like a shape that you are doing, but really, what you feel when you dance.

Is there anything you’d like to share about the type of yoga you do? Capanna:    In general, I think the type of yoga that’s best for you has to do with your personality.  The diversity of yoga is beautiful.  I studied at the Integral Yoga Institute in New York.  What I like about Integral Yoga is that it’s a talented combination between physical movement and more mental work like meditation, breathing exercises.  It’s an easy way to bring yoga into everyday life.  I did the basic training, and then the Extra Gentle teacher training.  That’s for teaching older people and others with physical limitations.  Now I’m studying in Rome in an Institute that is affiliated to an ashram in India that follows the same tradition as Integral Yoga.  The Integral Yoga institute comes from Swami Satchidananda.  He was a disciple of Sri Sivananda.  The school I’m attending now comes from the Sivananda tradition.

People often wonder when they are contemplating studying yoga, what is the best type of yoga to go with.  I mean, should it be Hatha, Iyengar, Kundalini? Capanna:    I think there are differences between the types; like Asthanga maybe is for younger people, Kundalini for others…but the important thing is to try different teachers and see what type is the best.  But always go to a teacher that did training.  Sometimes people say, I’m a teacher, when they don’t know anything.  I notice that, when I teach yoga, I can have a powerful effect on the mind.  What you say or what you do can really influence their lives.  To keep my practice alive is a big responsibility, when I’m there in front of a lot of people, to say, do this, do that, breathe here, breathe there.  You can even hurt those people if you let them do a wrong asana [yoga position] in a wrong way, or if you let them do too much breathing when they’re not ready to do it.  Instead of good, it can be bad.  Each kind of yoga is beautiful, so if you like one kind more, that doesn’t mean you can’t do others.  It’s like dance.  For example, I know that I like one kind of dance, but sometimes I know that it’s good for me to take some other kind of dance class, to get maybe stronger, or just to challenge myself.  I think it’s a little bit the same in yoga, because it’s so wide—the yoga tradition.  The more you study, the more you know how ignorant you are.  The best thing is to take class, know other teachers, and try to learn something every time.  [laughs]

What are you doing now?  Where are you headed? Capanna:    Right now, in Rome, I’m very happy about my yoga teaching.  I’m teaching in the Istituto di Yoga Universale, the same institute where I’m studying towards another certification.  I’m also teaching in a nice center every Monday, where they do tai chi, bioenergetics, holistic disciplines.  There it’s very beautiful, because a percussionist plays Tibetan bells every time I teach class—it’s very relaxing.  Every Tuesday, I teach two classes at a therapy institute for people with injuries.

How about dance? Capanna:    In Rome right now, it’s pretty frustrating.  I’m not really working with anybody.  The environment is very closed right now.  Since I came back from New York, I just did a few works for other choreographers.  In Italy, it was well recognized, but it didn’t have quality at all.  So, now I’m more concentrated on my own work, my own solos, a couple of duets.  To try to keep my dance alive.  It’s important because I feel that there is still time—that I’m not ready to quit dance.

This trip to Buffalo [to work with Elaine Gardner] was part of that, right? Capanna:    Yeah, I’m very happy about that. [laughs]

prove di

prove di “Danze Rotte”, foto di Daniela De Angelis


Di Loredana Oliva

Gioia 2000

Grinta, Coraggio, fantasia. Così quattro giovani hanno vinto la loro sfida: conquistarsi “un posto al sole” nella Grande Mela.

Meno di trent’anni, meno di duemila dollari al mese. Camera e cucina a Brooklyn o al Village, un posto di lavoro precario a Midtown, nella City, e tanta voglia di affermarsi. Con la consapevolezza di essere italiani a New York vuol dire avere una marcia in più. Non sono tanti i connazionali “in carriera” nella Big Apple, ma la loro presenza, nelle aziende, nelle università, nei quartieri dove vivono, non sembra passare inosservata. Arrivano negli States per un lavoro stagionale, che qui definiscono “internship”, o uno stage nelle aziende americane o una summer session alla Columbia University o alla New York University e cominciano a guardarsi intorno. Dopo una settimana si sentono già padroni della città: ne puoi incontrare a decine passeggiando nel rettangolo di Manhattan, o in una delle infinite stazioni della metropolitana, Uptown, Midtown, Downtown… Nella share hour, l’ora di punta, si mischiano ai newyorkesi doc per le strade della City, nei bar o sui bus. Poi, la sera, si trasferiscono nei quartieri più di tendenza della città, per bere una cosa, incontrare gente, andare a un party. A Soho, a Tribeca, nel Meatpacking District, nell’East Village: qui la geometricità di Midtown si spezza nelle stradine irregolari dove l’atmosfera è tutta da scoprire, con pub, piccoli ristoranti e bistrot, che si alternano a eleganti case di foggia inglese. “Questa città ci fa sentire importanti” sostengono i giovani italiani in trasferta newyorkese. Perché? Lo spiegano a Gioia queste quattro testimonianze di “conquista” della Grande Mela. Danzando sotto le stelle (e le strisce)

Benedetta Capanna, coreografa e poetessa.Sono arrivata a New York a passo di danza”. Esordisce così Benedetta, 28 anni, che studia ballo classico e danza moderna da quando ne aveva sei. Il suo sogno americano si chiama Alvin Aiely: “Volevo conoscerlo, per seguire la sua scuola di coreografia”. E’ a New York da tre anni… “Non conoscevo nessuno, avevo con me solo una lista di indirizzi di scuole di danza”. Inizia subito a frequentare l’ambiente delle dance school, degli spettacoli e dei gruppi indipendenti. “Ho cominciato insegnando danza, lavorando nel teatro di ricerca. Ma la cosa più importante è che mi sono sentita completamente libera, anche se guadagnavo poco e mi mantenevo a stento.” A Brooklyn ha lavorato con artisti di mezzo mondo e in produzioni italiane, spagnole, americane: Matthew J.Garrison, il Kairos Italy Theatre e il Vertical Player Repertory di Judith Barnes. “E pensare che c’era un’insegnante dell’Accademia che mi diceva: cosa vieni a fare a lezione? Tanto non ballerai mai1”. Benedetta rammenta di essere stata salvata da un sogno: “Stavo su un palco e volevo ballare. Ero nuda e legata con delle catene invisibili, non riuscivo a spezzarle. Quando mi sono svegliata, ho detto a me stessa: devi ricominciare da capo.”… A New York ha iniziato a scrivere poesie e ad interpretarle danzando. Così, la scorsa estate, ha debuttato all’Henry Street Settlement con una coreografia: Parallel Lives, theatrical, poetic dance experience, ovvero un esperimento teatrale di poesia e danza. La sua performance ha avute buone recensioni sui giornali di Manhattan e pagine intere su America Oggi, uno dei quotidiani degli Italiani negli Usa. “E’ stato incredibile: danzavo da sola sul palcoscenico interpretando una mia poesia e il pubblico applaudiva.” Adesso il suo piccolo regno si trova a Brooklyn, dove vive e lavora “Ma non voglio raccontare una favola” conclude Benedetta “questi anni sono stati molto faticosi, fatti di impegno, di studio, di forza di volontà, disciplina per mantenermi in forma. Certo, sono contenta, adesso ho nuove proposte di lavoro, ma soprattutto tanti progetti da realizzare.”