How I create… with dance artist and performer Anna Seymour

Born in Lismore, Australia and now based in London, Anna Seymour began her artistic journey as a dancer, but has since added several other strings to her impressive creative bow, including choreographer, teacher, actor, producer and consultant.

As a dancer she has worked with leading choreographers in Australia and the UK, and in 2012 Seymour, who is profoundly Deaf, co-founded The Delta Project, a dance collective of Deaf and hearing performers based in Melbourne. Since 2020 she has been a part of Candoco Dance Company – an international dance company of disabled and non-disabled dancers – with whom she has performed across Europe, America and the UAE.

Seymour’s work as an actor has seen her perform with Deafferent Theatre; on ABC television’s Get Krack!n;in the lead role of Deafinitely Theatre’s The Promise, which toured venues across England; and most recently in the thriller RETREAT, a film with an all Deaf cast directed by Ted Evans. As a choreographer she won a Melbourne Fringe Award in 2018 for the participatory dance performance SPIN, and in 2025 created a number of dance works in partnership with Wellcome Collection.

In February 2026 Seymour brought her immersive dance performance turned interactive rave experience, Mini SPIN to our Imagine festival. Adapted from her award-winning SPIN, especially for children and families, Mini SPIN blends the spirit of club culture with playful performance-making. And ahead of its arrival at the Southbank Centre, Seymour kindly gave us this insight into her creative process.

When and where do you find yourself at your most creative?

When I’m in the studio with other dancers. I love it when a dance rehearsal has a lot of momentum and flow. Also, when I’m in nature. A long walk is my time for processing and dreaming.

Starting the day with a morning dance class and getting warm and sweaty helps me to feel more creative for rehearsals. If I attend to my mind and breath, it allows my body intelligence and intuition to open up. That’s where you would get me at my best.

How do you know when an idea is worth developing into something more?

It’s the concoction of intuition, an inner spark, alchemy and a shared vision with my collaborators, and the time and conditions are ideal to explore. Sometimes it’s urgent; other times it’s a quiet idea that sits with me for years before I tend to it, and follow the flow.

Which tools are key to your creative process?

A dance studio with lots of natural light. Good coffee! A notebook for jotting down thoughts and to document the creative process. A lot of physical movement – I think and create better when I’m moving and have had a either vigorous, sweaty workout or a lush somatics warm up. Plants, trees, green spaces. A warmed up body. Great dance colleagues.

Who are you creating your work for, and how free are you to create the work you want to create?

I’m dancing for myself. Dance is urgency, healing, and empowerment for me. Other times, I do it for my late grandmother, Nea. She was a skilled pianist and was invited to the Sydney Conservatorium of Music when she was 17. She fell pregnant and that whole promising music career went down the toilet. She was kicked out of the home, shamed, and sent out far west in New South Wales, Australia and had to marry. I wouldn’t be here if she wasn’t forced into that life path so sometimes I do it for her. Nea and I are the only artists in our family and she understood and supported my chosen path as an artist. I won’t forget her sacrifices. 

I simultaneously have much freedom and yet many constraints and barriers. Dancers work so hard for little money. Working with Candoco is so luxurious as all I needed to do was turn up at work and just dance all day and go home. No admin, no funding applications. It’s a privilege to have that extra headspace to be creative and free. As a freelancer, it’s nice to choose your work hours sometimes, but when there is a lull and many unknowns in front of you, you have to go into survival mode thinking about how you will pay for rent.

I’m often the only Deaf person in professional dance spaces and the only professional Deaf dancer in Deaf community spaces. There are not many professional Deaf contemporary dancers and I often feel like I’m in uncharted territory and creating a new path for myself. My recent works for London’s Wellcome Collection pay homage to the Deaf community, and our Deaf ancestors.

How do you stay disciplined, and dedicated to your work?

I get so much joy from dancing so it doesn’t feel like hard work to be disciplined. My version of discipline may also look different to other dancers. There is much more awareness over what discipline looks like for different bodies, and minds. There is more awareness of incorporating rest and life balance in the dance industry and I think that’s great. 

Tours and performances are incredibly exciting seasons, connection is heightened, then there’s the comedown afterwards where you return home and you’re on your own again. It’s easy to crash and burn. I tend to lean into grounding activities such as cooking, walks, yoga and reaching out to friends which in return allows me to keep working. What a privilege this work is, and I don’t want to waste it.

What do you do when you hit a wall: when you feel unmotivated and uninspired? How do you overcome this?

I go for a long walk. Or I clean the flat and do some decluttering. Maybe that’s why my flat is always so clean!

Who do you look to for feedback?

Usually, I ask my artist colleagues. Recently, a dance choreographer I work with introduced me to three feedback questions and they are genius. Firstly, what worked? Secondly, what associations or images came up? And thirdly, any tips or tricks? These questions help people buy into the work and the artist and frame the critiques in a practical way.

How different is your creative process now to when you first began as an artist?

My work is more interdisciplinary. I started as a ‘dancer’, and it’s still my one true love. My career has expanded to acting for theatre and screen as well as teaching, mentoring, writing and choreography/movement consultation work. 

The industry has changed so much since I started. Dance had a very certain (limited) set of principles of who could be a dancer, so many people were excluded (such as Deaf; disabled; Black; older people; and those from lower socio-economic backgrounds). 

I didn’t have any sign language interpreters at all when I first started out. I just hid at the back of the class and did my best to follow the teacher. A lot of progress has been made in the last five years alone – there’s more diversity in dance and also a push back against the relentless work schedules that dancers have been doing and the lack of job security.

What does success feel like?

Success feels like freedom. To be able to dance as a living. To create, to connect, to travel, to meet people and be exposed to their stories. To look at my life and think ‘this view isn’t too bad’ and to feel proud of choosing the artist path even when it has been very hard and lonely at times. Success is when I imagine my ten year old self looking at me with such admiration saying ‘I want to be you!’

Is there a piece of advice you’ve received that you often find yourself returning to?

‘Just keep dancing’ is what someone told me after I didn’t get an audition I really wanted.

What’s the most recent thing you learned about yourself through your work?

That I’m brave and resilient. To embark on this path in life, especially as a Deaf person, takes a lot of guts and faith when there are a lot of barriers, especially while balancing the precarious nature of being a freelance artist. 

How do you know when you’re done?

Structure helps me, such as when rehearsals are over and we move onto performing. In terms of the work itself, some pieces usually stay with me. They carry on as memories and sensations in my body and serve as life lessons and strategies.

A choreographer once said not to get too bogged down with details, just make a decision and keep moving. That advice has helped me when I worry if I’m making the right creative choices. You are never done, but sometimes you need to make a decision and move on to continue to evolve.