Stephanie Laing admits she hasn’t been very kind to her body over the years. “I’ve been an alcoholic, I’ve self-harmed, and just been really horrible to myself,” says the comedian. But Laing has found an unexpected way to mend her relationship with her body, at the age of 39, by becoming a dancer. The Lincolnshire-based comic has been doing standup for 17 years. She previously dipped her toe into comedy-dance in the double act Flip Flop with Louisa Robey, but her new show Rudder is more of a full-body immersion; a crash course in different styles of movement from ballet to belly dancing.
“I feel like dancing has really helped me to take care of my body, and to see it as a tool for making cool stuff,” says Laing. But there is more to it than that. “At the obligatory 45-minute ‘sad point’ in the show, I talk about being sexually assaulted a couple of years ago,” says Laing. “I felt like I had betrayed my body. You kind of think it’s your fault.” Dance has been part of her healing, part of learning to connect with her body again. And she is sharing that newfound confidence on stage.
It’s an exposing thing to do. “I loved dancing when I was drunk,” says Laing. “And then I quit drinking and found I couldn’t dance in front of people any more.” Dancing in her bedroom with Beyoncé on her headphones became “one of my main hobbies”, but it was a private thing. She found herself scared of sexualising her body, as if dancing were asking for attention. “Because of my experiences in the world, I had decided that my sexual self should be very private, because I’m safer that way,” she says. So dancing also became “my deepest, darkest, most private thing that I do alone”.
But now she’s doing it every night at the Edinburgh fringe in a show that mixes her brand of candid, sweetly silly and surprisingly rude standup with live dance. And it’s a reclamation. “This is me being like, ‘I can move my body how I want and it’s not an invitation. It’s not for you to make an assessment of whether or not I’m attractive. It’s just because it’s fun to express that part of myself.’”
The dancing in public part may be terrifying, but in many ways Laing feels most comfortable on stage. She has attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), and as a result, she likes the setup of performance: “It’s a very clear dynamic. I’m not wondering if it’s my turn to talk.” She also talks about how, as a neurodivergent person, dance has helped her connect her body and her emotions. “I think I have the ADHD thing of emotional dysregulation, where you have huge emotions that can feel very unmanageable.” That didn’t suit an upbringing of stereotypically English reserve where “emotions were bad behaviour”. “I have a lot of very strong emotions kept in a tiny little egg in my soul. And I think dancing is a healthy way to start expressing them in a very visceral way,” she says.
In Rudder there are comic dances and serious ones too. She gets the audience to join her in some Merce Cunningham-style “chance” choreography, rolling dice to decide the next move, and possibly skewer a sacred cow or two. Laing loves modern dance pioneer Martha Graham, for example, but says “she’s so earnest, it can’t not be funny”.
Rudder is a show equally for those who love dance, those who are baffled by it and those who have never thought about it. “I feel like dance isn’t always accessible, especially contemporary dance,” says Laing, who has seen plenty of shows she’s been stumped by. “Sometimes I don’t know if I’m watching it right. I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel.” When she watched the film Pina, about legendary choreographer Pina Bausch, she was left wondering if she only found it interesting because she wanted to feel clever. “So I wanted to show an audience that dance can be funny and it can be a celebration, dance can be sexy and also dance can be moving.” She wants the movement itself to be good, too. “I want any dancer in the audience to say, ‘She’s doing that right, that’s correct.’”
What Laing finds most unnerving about dancing on stage is the absence of the instant feedback of standup – you can’t read the audience’s silence. But at least there will be a big burlesque finale where everyone can get vocal. Burlesque may appear to be the most sexualised of dance styles, but for Laing: “It feels like the ultimate reclaiming of my body because it is so fun. And with burlesque it’s the dancer who has the power: you’re dictating how much the audience sees and how they should react to you.” Has she got a glamorous costume, I ask Laing. “Well, I’ve got these weird stripy socks from a clown costume,” she says, like a woman who is definitely doing this on her own terms.
Information and support for anyone affected by rape or sexual abuse issues is available from the following organisations. In the UK, Rape Crisis offers support on 0808 500 2222 in England and Wales, 0808 801 0302 in Scotland, or 0800 0246 991 in Northern Ireland. In the US, Rainn offers support on 800-656-4673. In Australia, support is available at 1800Respect (1800 737 732). Other international helplines can be found at ibiblio.org/rcip/internl.html
