“I didn’t want people to see only suffering” – Marc Brew interview for the Leverkusener Anzeiger

May 7, 2026

Next week, Introdans brings a dance evening to Leverkusen exploring gravity, vulnerability and human relationships. At the centre are three works by Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui, including the new duet Residence with Marc Brew. Today, he is considered one of the leading voices in inclusive contemporary dance. After a serious car accident in 1997, he suddenly found himself using a wheelchair and began to approach dance in a completely new way. In conversation with the Leverkusener Anzeiger, he speaks about exclusion, connection and why, despite everything, he never stopped seeing himself as a dancer.

Many people in Leverkusen will be seeing your work for the first time. How would you describe yourself as an artist?
I am the artistic director of the “Marc Brew Company”, a choreographer and performer. I am disabled and queer, and I work with disabled and non-disabled, queer and neurodiverse artists. For me, it is about bringing different voices together in a creative process and making work that says something about the world we live in today.

You grew up in Australia. How did your relationship with dance begin?
I come from Jerilderie, a small town in rural New South Wales. I often say I was the outback version of “Billy Elliot”. I actually only started dancing because my best friend was taking dance classes. But as soon as I began dancing, I felt that freedom. I was quite shy, but dance allowed me to come out of myself. I felt alive.

At the same time, you were the only boy dancing there.
Yes, and because of that I was bullied. In that town, everything revolved around sport. Dance was not considered something for boys. For a while, I even stopped dancing because of it. Later, I received a scholarship to the Victorian College of the Arts Secondary School, an arts school in Melbourne. For the first time, I felt like I truly belonged.

In 1997, a serious car accident radically changed your life. What went through your mind when doctors told you that you would never walk or dance again?
I remember it incredibly clearly. At the time, I was dancing in South Africa. A drunk driver crashed head-on into our car. Three of my friends were killed in the accident. When I woke up in hospital, I was told that I was paralysed from the neck down and would never walk or dance again. When you are in your twenties, you think you are invincible. And suddenly everything changes in a single second.

How does a moment like that change the way you see your own body?
Before that, I had been classically trained as a dancer. Everything revolved around perfect lines, control, strength, the “ideal” body. And suddenly I thought: my body no longer fits that image. I had to change my understanding of what a dancer looks like and what dance itself can be.

How did you find this new approach to dance?
When I started training again after the accident, I could barely look at myself in the mirror because I kept seeing the body I used to have. At some point, I began thinking differently. I stopped asking: what does this movement look like? And instead asked: what does it feel like? That changed everything. I stopped seeing my body as something broken and started seeing it as the starting point for new possibilities.

What did that mean in practical terms for your work as a choreographer?
I began exploring how my body moves now. How does partnering work? How do I move across the floor? How does a wheelchair change movement? What new possibilities does that create? Suddenly, an entire world opened up to me that I had never seen before. That is where my choreographic work began.

You have said that audiences have also changed over the past decades.
Yes, but it has been a long journey. After my accident, I simply wanted to be part of a dance company again. But many people did not know what to do with me. At that time, there were hardly any disabled dancers on major stages. No role models. No visibility. Today, that is slowly beginning to change.

Is that why working with Introdans means so much to you?
Absolutely. What we are doing now with Introdans is something I wished for nearly thirty years ago. It is not about creating a “special production”. It is a major contemporary dance company that naturally integrates diversity into its work. The fact that disabled bodies are part of a programme like this is incredibly important.

In Leverkusen you will present the new duet Residence. What is it about?
It is about two people trying to create a home for one another. Two people from different backgrounds who have to learn how to carry and support each other. The piece is very emotional and deeply human.

What was it like working with Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui?
We began working together in 2021, initially on my autobiographical piece. Residence is now our second collaboration. Larbi is deeply interested in human relationships, vulnerability and transformation. That is why I think we share a similar artistic language.

What do you hope for the audience in Leverkusen?
I hope people come with an open mind. That they are willing to be moved. And perhaps also that afterwards they will think differently about what a body on stage can be.