Antón Reixa turns his poetry into dance: “Thanks to dancing, I overcame the after-effects of the accident”
Antón Reixa (Vigo, 1957) is preparing to cross the Atlantic. The artist, poet and performer will travel to Buenos Aires this September to take to the stage at the prestigious International Performing Arts Festival (FIBA) with Cicatriz. Directed and choreographed by Kirenia Martínez Acosta, the show represents an unprecedented physical and artistic challenge for the creator: turning the more than 700 verses of his own poem into dance. Following the performances in Argentina, the piece will arrive at the Teatro Rosalía de Castro in A Coruña in December as part of the TRC Danza programme.
—When are you leaving for Argentina?
—Are you looking forward to it?
—It is a beautiful story. The piece premiered in 2025 and before this I knew absolutely nothing about dance, but it was Kirenia Martínez who invited me. She had already worked with some of my poems on previous occasions. This time, we chose Cicatriz, a poem of more than 700 verses that begin with the words “I want”, offering an ongoing reflection on desire. The surprise came when we started preparing everything and Kirenia suggested that I dance, because I had assumed my role would be the usual one of reciting my own poems, but that was not the case.
—Although you had never danced before, you did have experience on stage.
—I did have stage experience, but you also have to bear in mind that in 2025 it had been barely nine years since I suffered a very serious road accident. I was completely immobile, then in a wheelchair, later on crutches and, when I began rehearsing the piece, I was still walking with a cane. So there was a real recovery of my body. The piece is therefore always presented as an inclusive show that integrates physical disabilities, and there is also an anti-ageist dimension: starting to dance at almost 70 is not common, especially considering that I am asthmatic and did not even do physical education at school.
—And how do you feel now when you dance?
—Now I feel very comfortable, but at first the panic was great, and Kirenia’s patience was even greater. I am the sort of person who is incapable of going to a gym just to exercise for the sake of being healthy, but rehearsals are different: you are exercising in preparation for a performance in front of an audience, and you gradually start to enjoy it. It was very important because my body gradually recovered and, at the same time, I discovered that contemporary dance is not acrobatics, but rather an emotion expressed through gestures and the body. It brought new nuances to my verses thanks to Kirenia’s very intense choreographic work, which is then confronted with the audience’s perception, something that is very interesting for a poet. For me, it was completely new territory.
—Did it take much to convince you?
—The truth is that throughout my life I have tended to do very different things; I have a tendency to dare to try things for the first time. This was unusual for me because it required physical effort, but I would like to emphasise that these kinds of exercises, aside from their artistic value, are very beneficial for the body. I now know my body better, I move better, and I have overcome my injuries and the after-effects of the accident in the best possible way. It was an unexpected adventure that I am very proud of. We are very pleased that the piece was selected for the International Performing Arts Festival. We will be going not only to present the work on stage and the book, but also to learn from the festival programme, which brings together artists from different countries.
—After Argentina, the performance in A Coruña will follow, in the area where you live. Are you looking forward to performing there in front of people you know?
—Yes, it is a very important date, especially because in dance there is a lack of more frequent performances; it is not common for contemporary dance to be programmed continuously in theatres, so every opportunity has to be taken. We have had quite a few performances in Galicia, such as at the Carballo dance festival, and last year we toured several parts of Spain and even Germany. For the rest of this year, we have Argentina and A Coruña, and we will begin next year at a festival in Valencia.
—As well as watching you dance, we will hear your poems. What are they about?
—They are texts written from an instinctive impulse to express different aspects of desire. They follow my usual practice of writing free verse, without stanzaic structure, metre or rhyme, but with the discipline of always beginning with the words “I want” and discovering new things along the way. The poem already existed and I had used it in recitals, but with the choreography it takes on a different dimension that allows the audience to perceive the obsessive repetition of desire in a more physical way. I think that if we had no desires and were not capable of developing a sense of will, life would be very different. When I was a child, it was common to be scolded with the phrase, “you don’t even know what you want.” So, as life goes on, it is important to gradually understand what you want, or at least what you do not want.