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JOHN GRANT

The artist brings his linguistic dexterity to a new balletic adaptation of Christopher Isherwood’s A Single Man

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Interview by Matteo Pini and Nell WhittakerPortrait by Hörður Sveinsson

MP What were your previous encounters, if any, with Isherwood’s work?

JG I’d only seen the 2009 film adaptation of A Single Man, but now I’ve read a couple of his books. I want to read Goodbye to Berlin next. I was blown away by A Single Man, and I couldn’t believe I made it through my life without it.

NW What made you feel that way?

JG I’m not sure if I could put my finger on it exactly; he uses different registers, but they all move together. Sometimes he uses a highly formal register, yet it’s always very human. What I love about it is that it gives you a sense of what it’s like to exist as a human throughout a single day. That resonates with me, because I see my songs as little snapshots of the everyday.

NW The score is being composed by someone else, so I imagine you’re even more focused on words than normal, and working from the text itself. How does the language transform as you attend to it?

JG I didn’t start with a plan for how I would interpret the text, and I wasn’t sure to what extent I could use direct quotation, though that’s what people want you to do. I had to read through the book a couple of times. Right now, for example, I’m working on a song called “Good Morning”, about Isherwood’s perception of the American system. There are lots of parallels between the US then and the US now. The book is about being a human in general, but specifically in an American way, with all the guns and violence and selfishness. All of that gets interwoven into the music.

MP You speak several languages, which you’ve learnt as an adult. Is there any similarity in adapting the text to translating a language?

JG I get the same type of joy. Working with language, especially grammar, feels natural to me. You hear me talking a lot about different registers, becauase I think all registers of language belong together. That’s what you’re faced with everyday. You don’t really get one thing or the other; you get it all mixed together. I am interested in how art brings different worlds together.

NW It’s interesting that the musical Cabaret is an adaptation of Goodbye to Berlin. What do you think is in Isherwood’s work that makes it possible for a musical or a ballet to be produced from a novel? Why does his work transcend those disciplinary borders so readily? Your work, too,  is resistant to genre.

JG I think the key to what you’re talking about is curiosity, and that’s what makes an artist’s work really compelling – when they are clearly interested in everything, all the myriad possibilities that are available. That’s what makes something jump off the page, not limiting oneself when it comes to register and word choice. He also gives air to thoughts that, in a time of heavy censorship, would’ve been dangerous to say.

NW What is it in the novel that’s also in the air today, politically?

JG The hypocrisy of the people who say that they are standing for family values – though that’s been going on for a long time, since Reagan – and the people who try to ban certain groups or types of music. Frank Zappa spoke in the 1980s about how the Christian right was trying to install a fascist theocracy, and you see that in the book. At one point, the protagonist is looking at his neighbour, a Mrs Strunk: “Your exorcism has failed, dear Mrs Strunk, says George, squatting on the toilet and peeping forth from his lair to watch her emptying the dust bag of her vacuum cleaner into the trash can – the unspeakable is still here, right in your very midst.” George also talks about how patriotic he feels, driving on the highway successfully and navigating the crazy traffic in LA – but that’s all in the context that you would be banned from the American good life by being other or queer or a member of a different minority. Ostensibly, it’s a book about a man mourning the death of his lover, but I was delighted to see him actually talking about what it felt like in those days when it wasn’t acceptable to be queer, as once again, it’s not acceptable. You have a lot of gays that support the right as well, though, which takes things into really confusing territory for me – you have gays who are fans of Trump, for example. The way I explain that to myself is that there are a lot of sick people in every group.

MP The thrust of the book is about day-to-day survival. Do you read that as a kind of protest?

JG I suppose one wants to thrive, not just survive, and that seems to me what the protagonist is doing. He is processing the truth about life in the US in that particular period, but he’s also able to recognise all of these opportunities that are presented to a human being over an ordinary day – these miracles, if you will, the colours and and sounds and people and and feelings, the whole of the human experience. Reading it, it feels like somebody experiencing joy in spite of this particular type of death, which you have had no way to prepare for.

NW As you said earlier, you and Isherwood are similar in that you’re interested in lots of things. What are you currently interested in, outside of this project?

JG I’m always working on my languages. Right now, I’m spending a lot of time looking at Spanish grammar.

NW How many languages is that now?

JG I would say I have German, Russian, Icelandic and Spanish. I studied at a German university, so that’s the one I’m best at. I’m really into Icelandic as well, especially the grammar. It’s getting harder to keep track of them all as I age. I always consider myself a student, and want to do a language course here in Iceland, but life gets in the way and I haven’t had enough time. Other than that, I’ve been looking at trees. The highlight of my trip to Australia was going to a eucalyptus forest outside of Melbourne. The trees were ancient and enormous, 300 feet tall. I also collect movies. When I’ve finished with the Royal Ballet, I will graduate to Goodbye to Berlin. I’m looking forward to that, because Cabaret is one of the greatest musicals ever made. .

A Single Man runs at Manchester International Festival between 2-6 July, and the Linbury Theatre at the Royal Opera House between 8-20 September.