EL TÚNEL: Quantum Physics, Performance and Adidas Y-3, a Conversation With Kianí del Valle
Direction: Kianí del Valle
Original sound score: Kelman Durán:
In Partnership with: Y-3
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Words: Christiaan Pienaar
Photography: Riccardo Contrino
Special Thanks to: Quinto
On November 4th, Berlin pulsed with energy as MERDE arrived at the highly anticipated opening of EL TÚNEL, an avant-garde experience presented by the trailblazing KDV Performance Group.
Staged at the iconic Theater des Westens and led by visionary artist Kianí del Valle, the night attracted a crowd hungry for a performance that would defy boundaries and reimagine dance, art, and movement. After the stunning opening, I had the rare chance to sit down with del Valle following the final dress rehearsals. Our conversation unlocked the inspiration behind this daring project, delved into her boundary-pushing collaboration with Adidas Y-3, and offered a glimpse into the career highlights that shaped her distinctive style.
In quantum physics, particles can exist in multiple states simultaneously. "El Túnel" delves into this concept, exploring the possibilities of parallel worlds and the nature of reality. What inspired you to create a piece centered on this theme?
In 2020, my father passed away, and I embarked on a crazy journey, working on a series of projects for four years. I’ve conducted extensive research on the cyclic nature of life— birth, death, and resurrection—in all its forms. I’ve created pieces that are very scientific in their exploration of life, including one collaboration with my father's neurologist, which focused on the capabilities of the brain and how the brain rewires itself. This provided a very specific approach to understanding death. In other pieces, I’ve been exploring the idea of a fetus and how we can transcend at birth. I’ve really delved into all the capabilities of these themes, and "El Túnel" serves as a way to close this four-year cycle of research, specifically in quantum physics.
My father was very passionate about quantum physics; he came from a deeply religious family but was quite opposed to religion. In a way, quantum physics became his religion, and he approached it with a spiritual perspective. I wanted to work on a piece that was fantastic or like fantasy, while relating it to quantum physics. I’m a big fan of fantasy films from the '80s, like "The Dark Crystal," "Labyrinth" with David Bowie, "The NeverEnding Story," and "The Last Unicorn." I feel like they have a depth similar to "The Little Prince," which is a book for kids but carries such powerful meaning that it resonates with adults. I could read "The Little Prince" now, and it’s still so profound. It reminds me of the works of one of my favorite Uruguayan writers, Eduardo Galeano, whose writing is also rich in meaning.
Eduardo Galeano has a book called The Book of Hugs, and it’s beautiful. It’s one of my favorite books. Each short story is accompanied by a drawing. This book stands out to me because you can see the multidisciplinary approach of the artist, combining writing and drawing. You can really visualize the story through his illustrations. One story in The Book of Hugs is called "Little Death," which explores the idea of death and compares it to birth, orgasm, and something very sacred. Initially, I wanted to call it "Little Death," but I thought it might be too reminiscent of a rapper's name or something.
How did your collaboration with Adidas Y-3 come about?
So, Adidas has been following my work for some time, and I think their cultural department was developing ways to connect with specific artists in Berlin. There were already rumors in the scene that Adidas was going to choose a choreographer, a music producer, and a painter this year.
I thought, "Oh, I hope they choose me." Then I wondered how I could get connected with them. Funny enough, that day, I received an email from Tim at Adidas. He said, "Kiani, I would like to invite you to this Adidas event." I thought it was strange because I had just been talking about Adidas with someone that day. When I attended the event, I met Tim, and he immediately said, "We love your work; we've been following you." He asked if I would be comfortable collaborating with a brand, and I said yes. It started very organically, and they were really open, asking, "What could this collaboration look like? We don’t want to force a specific type onto you."
I've been somewhat frustrated with how the fashion world operates. I've participated in London Fashion Week, Paris Fashion Week, and worked for various designers, but I've long felt that we need to reinvent the format of fashion shows. They’re not exciting anymore and no longer convey meaningful messages. Given the heavy times we live in, we need to digest images and aesthetics differently. We can't keep consuming the same visuals in the same way while the world is changing.
I’m aware that the intersection of performance and fashion isn’t new, so I know I'm not the first to explore this. However, as a choreographer with a specific style, I find myself in a niche even within Berlin’s scene. In ballet and opera, I’m considered too experimental, and in the free scene, I move too much. I believe this collaboration with a brand like Y-3 is fresh and unique, especially for a choreographer like me.
How did your upbringing influence your work?
I was born and raised in the Caribbean in an artistic family. My mom is a writer and a professor, and she was the dean of the University of Puerto Rico. I grew up with a very strict mom and a father who had a great passion for music and philosophy. He was also a drummer but ended up focusing more on business later in his career.
We didn’t have much growing up, but the arts were really part of our family’s DNA. My sisters are actresses, and my uncles are actors, dancers, and musicians, so the arts have been ingrained in me from a very young age.
I initially started with visual art because I wanted to rebel; everyone in my family was a performer or a musician. When I was little, I thought, "I want to do something different." So, I focused on painting and sculpture. But early on, I realized, "Okay, I’m a dancer too." I still see my dance as a form of visual art, and I view my pieces as films or movie paintings. I think they still inform each other.
What sources of inspiration do you draw from?
I'm super inspired by Romeo Castellucci, the Italian theatre director. I tend to pull from two different spectrums: on one hand, I’m inspired by massive theatre directors like Castellucci, and on the other, by artists like Ana Mendieta and performance artists like Joseph Beuys. My inspirations usually range from large-scale works to smaller-scale ones, and I find myself somewhere in the middle. In that space, I also draw from archaeology, anthropology, cartography, and related fields.
Sound, light, and film play crucial roles in the performance. Could you elaborate on this aspect?
I moved from Puerto Rico to New York when I was 19, and then to Montreal when I was 22. In Montreal, I stumbled upon the heart of the music scene. I became friends with Cristobal Urbina and people like Vincent Lemieux, who started the MUTEK Festival, one of the main music festivals now. I was the door girl at clubs. I was very lucky to be surrounded by tastemakers in music from a really early age while working in a club and doing my bachelor's in choreography. I felt so spoiled.
Every semester, we would present choreography, and while others used the same Philip Glass song, I was creating friendships with people at the forefront of music in Montreal. They would create original sound scores for my semester pieces. I think this really stems from my early twenties and my time in Montreal. I was already starting a practice where my friends, who were the main producers, musicians, DJs and key figures in labels, believed in me and provided original sound scores for my school pieces without any payment. Now, almost 20 years into my career, I can say that I always need impeccable music in my work. This period of my life is ingrained in my practice till today.
I've been very lucky to have amazing music producers say, 'Yes, I will do it.' For example, Kelman just worked with Beyoncé on her last album, so he doesn’t need to be here. But he really believes in what I’m doing. The same goes for Tayhana, who recently collaborated with me at Sonar. She just won a Grammy for Rosalía’s last album, and she also doesn’t need to be doing these pieces. However, I think because music, it’s so clearly part of my practice, when a music producer sees what I’m doing, they feel keen to try it.
And it obviously impacts my work a lot. The pieces are completely interconnected. They’re linked with music, and the same goes for light. My point of departure is always to imagine my pieces as films. The only way to create these scenes through light, sound and movement.
Was the wardrobe designed specifically for ‘El Túnel’?
This is the new winter collection, so we are kind of premiering pieces in the work, which is amazing. To be honest, I was very lucky because I wrote the treatment first, and I knew that I wanted pieces with hoods and materials that could camouflage with the environment. Then, all of a sudden, they sent me the collection, and the coat was there—with a hood! I also wanted a character to wear white, and in the whole collection, there was only one white dress. It felt like it was meant to be, you know what I mean?
“I’m aware that the intersection of performance and fashion isn’t new, so I know I’m not the first to explore this. However, as a choreographer with a specific style, I find myself in a niche even within Berlin’s scene. ”
You’ve collaborated with notable artists like Bad Bunny and Billie Eilish. What would you consider a career highlight so far?
Right now, my highlight is El Túnel. But if we think about high-profile collaborations, one of my major highlights was Coachella with Labrinth, Billie Eilish, and Zendaya. It was incredible. I was very lucky because the management of Billie, Labrinth, and even Zendaya wanted to create something like an opera show for a music festival. I think I was the perfect choreographer for that.
It was an amazing experience. I was directing five departments backstage, managing four mic stands. I communicated with Labrinth and Billie through their in-ears, giving them cues for the lights. I directed the cameras from one mic and the choir choreography from another. Oh my God, I was also directing the lights from yet another mic. It was a crazy, almost schizophrenic experience, but it made me realize, “Oh, I actually can direct a big opera if I want to tomorrow." It was fantastic, though a bit stressful as well.
The changeovers at festivals are intense; you have a massive stage that normally takes a week to set up, but you have to build it in just 20 minutes. We had a choir of 20 people and a brass section of musicians inside the structure, so I was really nervous about whether it would be safe for everyone to be on a structure built in such a short time.
Being part of something on such a large scale really shifted my mindset about what's possible. I felt ready to take on big projects.
