PIA is a live dance and music experience by choreographer Katya Bourvis, in collaboration with creative producer Tala Lee-Turton, with score by Hannah Peel.
A seventeen-piece brass band performs Peel’s critically acclaimed record Mary Casio: Journey To Cassiopeia, exploring the ephemeral nature of human existence, memory and imagination.
Blurring the boundaries between time and space, we meet Barnsley woman, Pia, across three generations of her life, as her mind journeys between the closed collieries of her hometown and increasingly vivid dreams of space travel.
We caught up with Katya Bourvis to learn more.
PIA traces one woman across three distinct generations of her life. How did you approach translating the shifting passage of time and memory into physical movement?
I was interested in the idea that time isn't necessarily linear in our minds. Memories can appear suddenly, overlap, distort or become more vivid than the present. The three Pias have distinct movement languages, but gestures, physical details and relationships pass between them, sometimes subtly, sometimes in more recognisable ways. At moments, all three exist simultaneously, as though different versions of ourselves are always present within us. I hope for the audience to experience the shifting passage of time through Pia's perspective, rather than follow a conventional, linear narrative.
The narrative bridges two vastly different worlds—the grounded reality of Barnsley’s closed collieries and the weightlessness of space travel. How do these themes inform the dynamic quality and texture of your choreography?
I was drawn to the contrast between these two worlds, but also their similarities. Both mining and space exploration involve journeys into the unknown, one descending beneath the earth, the other travelling out into the cosmos. There's something poetic about these opposing directions of exploration.
I was fascinated by the sensory experience of these environments, the darkness, confinement, heat and physical resistance of the mines, contrasted with the vastness, silence and apparent weightlessness of space. We spent time watching archive footage of miners and astronauts, drawing on their physical movements and gestures to develop choreographic material. I explored qualities of weight, resistance, repetition and suspension, but also the ways these physical worlds might overlap.
Dance often expresses what words cannot. In capturing a mind navigating memory loss, ageing and imagination, how did you craft movement to reflect Pia's internal world?
I was curious to explore the extraordinary complexity and richness of a live lived. I was interested in the idea of the mind as a labyrinth, where memories appear in fragments, repeat, distort and sometimes collide. Choreographically, this led me to explore recurring gestures and movement motifs that pass between the three Pias, often returning in altered forms. The ensemble also becomes an extension of Pia's imagination, shifting between recognisable characters, memories and more abstract forms.
Working with a multigenerational cast has been particularly meaningful. Each performer brings a different physical history and quality of movement, allowing us to explore how the body carries memory and experience across a lifetime.
Importantly, I wanted to find humour, tenderness and absurdity within this world. Pia's imagination is a place of extraordinary freedom, and I wanted to celebrate that rather than define her through age.
Hannah Peel’s Mary Casio: Journey To Cassiopeia combines electronic synthesizers with a live 17-piece brass band. How did working with this rich acoustic and electronic landscape shape your choreographic rhythm?
Hannah's music has an extraordinary sense of scale. It can feel intimate and fragile one moment, and then completely expansive and overwhelming the next. I was particularly drawn to the contrast between the warmth and physicality of the brass and the more otherworldly, electronic textures.
Choreographically, I'm interested in working both with and against the musical structure. Sometimes the movement follows the momentum and rhythm of the brass, while at other moments a very small, intimate gesture sits against an enormous swell of sound.
The electronic textures also lend themselves beautifully to the shifting landscapes of Pia's imagination. There's something both nostalgic and futuristic about the score, which echoes the way Pia moves between different periods of her life, memory and imagined worlds.
A 17-piece brass band carries a massive physical and auditory presence on stage. How do the dancers interact with or navigate around the physical space occupied by the musicians?
The band will be positioned on a balcony above the dancers, forming a kind of constellation within the space. I wanted the musicians to feel integral to Pia's imagined universe, rather than simply accompanying the movement.
This positioning creates two distinct but connected worlds, with the dancers inhabiting the space below and the musicians forming part of the visual landscape above.
There are also moments of stillness in the choreography, allowing the audience to focus entirely on the musicians and the extraordinary physical act of making music, the breath, effort and collective energy of 17 performers.
Brass music carries deep historical ties to Northern mining communities like Barnsley. How did that cultural heritage influence how you listened to and movement-mapped the score?
The connection between brass music and Northern mining communities gives Hannah's score another layer of meaning. There's something deeply moving about the collective nature of brass music and its relationship to community, identity and shared history.
There's a tension throughout the work between the individual and the group, between belonging and being an outsider. Pia is very much part of this community, but her imagination also sets her apart. I think the brass music holds both of these worlds beautifully, something rooted in a location and history, yet capable of transporting us somewhere entirely otherworldly.
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| Katya Bourvis. |
Collaborating with creative producer Tala Lee-Turton and composer Hannah Peel brings together distinct artistic voices. What did that collaborative development process look like from early concept to stage?
The project began quite unexpectedly. I'd just come out of my first silent retreat, and the first piece of music I listened to stepping off the train was Hannah's Goodbye Earth, which was completely unknown to me at the time. There was something about it that felt universal.
I was also at a point in my career where I hadn't completely made the transition into choreography and really wanted to give myself the space to create. I had a week of research during a residency, exploring Hannah's album through movement, which culminated in a short film.
I reached out to Hannah because I wanted to share the film on Instagram. I'd also been working with Tala on another project and invited her to join us. Really, that's where it all began. It was also the beginning of Red Robin Productions.
From there, we began developing the concept, drawing on Hannah's music and research, our visits to Barnsley and conversations with local people. Tala brought her experience in creative producing, while I developed the choreographic and theatrical language through research and experimentation in the studio.
My choreographic assistant, the dancers and the designer have also played an enormous part in bringing the production to life, contributing their own creativity and perspectives throughout the process.
It's been a very serendipitous journey, from a personal creative impulse to a much larger production involving so many wonderful artists.
As a choreographer, what was the most challenging—and ultimately most rewarding—aspect of bringing this multi-layered, live music and dance experience to life?
I think the greatest challenge is finding the essential. I love generating material, but arriving at a humble place of honesty is a challenge. There's a constant dialogue with doubt, with not knowing and not always having immediate answers. I've wanted to retain a sense of mystery without losing the audience's emotional connection to Pia. Finding that balance between abstraction and storytelling has been an ongoing exploration.
One of the most rewarding aspects has been the collaboration. Finding a shared understanding, a sense of connection, generosity and joy in the studio. Each performer brings their own physical intelligence, experience and individuality to the work. I'm incredibly grateful for my wonderful collaborators, who bring their own perspectives and creativity, and support me through those moments of uncertainty. Ultimately, it's that sense of shared discovery and connection that makes the process so rewarding.
What do you hope audiences in Barnsley and beyond take away from Pia’s journey between her earthly roots and cosmic dreams?
I hope audiences find something of themselves in Pia. Although her story is rooted in Barnsley and its history, the work explores experiences that are deeply human, love, grief, belonging, ageing and our capacity to imagine other worlds. I hope it reminds us of our enormous capacity for strength, wonder and awe.
PIA premieres at the Barbican in London on Friday 23rd October at 7.30pm. For tickets and more information, visit https://www.barbican.org.uk/whats-on/2026/event/pia-by-katya-bourvis-with-tala-lee-turton-hannah-peel
You can find out more about Katya by visiting her website: https://www.katyabourvis.co.uk/
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