A conversation on the script as starting point, space as axis, and dance as narrative language in the musical.
Career showreel. Video provided by Gillian Bruce.
The choreographer manages to sink their fingertips into the soil where there are no names for anything.
Dance: Between Autonomy and Storytelling
From ancient rituals to Broadway, dance has traveled a long cultural journey as one of the oldest forms of nonverbal communication. Through body, rhythm, gesture, space, and time, it conveys meanings words cannot reach.
But what happens when this language stops being autonomous and becomes an extension of a story?
That tension —between autonomy and narrative— is precisely where Gillian Bruce operates. A British choreographer based in Italy and Spain, she has shaped productions such as Newsies, Dirty Dancing, and Mary Poppins. For her, dance in a musical is no embellishment; it is a central cog in the dramaturgical machinery: “If you’re not telling a story, it’s just remembering steps,” she explains.
In musical theatre, dance is part of a multi-directional dialogue alongside music, lyrics, and script. For Bruce, the decisive element in this genre is the script: it’s what makes her accept or decline a project, and it sets the parameters for choreography:
I always start from the script. For me, storytelling is the most important thing, even in choreography. Dance becomes part of the show when dancers are also actors, and transmitting emotions to the audience is essential in a musical.
Choreography by Gillian Bruce for The Phantom of the Opera (Madrid production). Photo: LETSGO.
It’s clear that choreography in musicals serves the story. Still, thinking of dance itself as a powerful language is far from naïve. As H. Scott McMillin wrote in The Musical as Drama (2006):
Words are not fundamental in musical theatre. It’s fine to have them, the words, the dialogue, a plot taking shape through the book, but dance creates an immediacy of action that words can obstruct. (…) Balanchine once told Robbins that the choreographer manages to sink their fingertips into the soil where there are no names for anything. He was describing the essence of dance, which requires no words, only music and the dancing body. Dance may draw on words, but it does not need them.
Here it’s useful to distinguish between dance as expression in itself and choreography as conceived within musical theatre. The first implies movement that can be free, individual, ritual, or artistic, able to convey emotion without narrative. The second organizes those movements around a script and staging, developing a structured language with dramaturgy, characters, and narrative goals. Bruce’s work lies above all in turning dance into choreography, that is, into a more physical form of storytelling.
Choreography by Gillian Bruce for Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (Madrid production). Photo: LETSGO.
In musicals, dance inhabits a hybrid terrain: on one side, it can exist as an autonomous language; on the other, it merges with script, music, and lyrics to tell the story more immediately and viscerally. Bruce both understands and practices this. In Cabaret, for example, the interaction of bodies in the immersive staging lets audiences experience the decadence and danger of the club more deeply than the book itself describes, creating a bodily narrative that complements and amplifies the story.
Balancing the potential of dance, as McMillin points out, with the demands of the script is one of Bruce’s many challenges. In the end, musicals do not subordinate dance or words but allow them to coexist —reinforcing one another in a dialogue that is at once collective, visual, and emotional.
Space as Axis
Once harmony between script and dance is found, another decisive element comes into play: space. On how space alters choreography, Bruce explains:
It makes a huge difference. I’ve worked on big stages, on smaller ones —I like them all— but obviously you have to find a different language for each. It’s very important to understand the types of movement you can do in every space.
Choreography by Gillian Bruce for The Phantom of the Opera (Madrid production). Photo: LETSGO.
About her experience with Cabaret, she adds:
This version we’re doing, I want to thank Iñaki [Fernández, CEO of LETSGO] for the opportunity, because it’s the first time in my life I’ve worked with the immersive format. When I first saw the set, I thought: ‘Oh my god, this is difficult—how are we going to do it?’ But I’m having so much fun because it’s so stimulating, totally different. I always like to put myself in the audience’s perspective. Here, with such a crazy space in the middle, it’s very complicated, but I think I can make it work. It’s an incredible project, I love it and I’m enjoying it a lot.
New Musical, New Physical Language
Once script and space are understood, the time comes to adapt those elements to the personality of each show. For Bruce, Cabaret and Houdini present completely different challenges, each requiring its own choreographic language:
They’re both very big projects, but very different. I have a ‘way of making choreography,’ but I don’t like to repeat myself; I always try to find something new and challenge myself to step out of my comfort zone. I love working in Spain for this reason: people are very open-minded, they have no problem with physical contact in dance, which in Cabaret is very important, for example. But I did tell them: ‘I want you to feel free, but without being vulgar.’ They got it right away and for me that’s fantastic.
In Cabaret, choreography must embody decadence, sensuality, and danger—integrating with both the audience and the story. Every movement of the dancer-actors extends the narrative, reinforcing immersion. There is no single front-facing auditorium; part of the audience sits onstage, and it is specific people who receive interaction from the performers. As Bruce explains:
In rehearsals we tried to watch Cabaret from different perspectives. We have part of the set there and we sat in different places—you see a different show every time. The spectator isn’t just watching; they’re inside the story. Cabaret isn’t just fun, it’s like a punch to the heart. You live the whole drama with the cast. It’s incredible how this show feels so current it’s scary. We never learn from our mistakes.
Houdini, on the other hand, poses a different kind of challenge: illusionism and dance must coexist without one eclipsing the other. Here, choreography is subordinated to the protagonist and the world of magic, but it still serves the story—helping to create atmospheres and convey the tragedy and challenges of the main character:
It’s a period when there was Can Can, Charleston, tap… all of them are part of the show Houdini is doing, so choreography has to take a step back.
Everything relies on precise timing, as demanded by both dance and magical effects:
If the dancers do something out of sync with what Houdini is doing, they take away the magic of the act. The choreography is always supporting and enhancing what he does.
Choreography by Gillian Bruce for Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (Madrid production). Photo: LETSGO.
Looking Ahead
Beyond the stage, Bruce has another vocation: training the next generation of dancers and choreographers. For her, teaching and passing on knowledge is another way of extending dance’s narrative capacity:
When I have time, I also teach. I love working with young talent. There’s a very important academy in Italy, the Bernstein School of Musical Theater, and I teach there often.
Tap is another of her passions. She founded I Tappers in Italy and sees it not only as a style, but as a vehicle of creativity and cultural fusion:
I love tap, I specialize in it. I have many students; in fact, one became world champion. I love teaching tap because it has evolved a lot—it’s no longer just Fred Astaire—so I love fusing it with more modern styles like hoofing. Whenever I come to Madrid I go see flamenco; I think a show that fused tap and flamenco would be very interesting.
For those considering a career in musical theatre through dance or choreography, Bruce emphasizes training and discipline. It’s not enough to be a good dancer, actor, or singer; one must master all three to create high-level musicals:
They need to study. A lot of young people don’t take the time to study everything that’s necessary. Before becoming a choreographer, I studied a lot, and today I am who I am because of that learning. The foundation comes from study, and real growth happens on stage.
Finally, her gaze turns to the future of the genre: dance will continue evolving within musicals, especially in immersive formats that bring new experiences to audiences—but always respecting script and period:
I think the immersive format will become very popular because it gives audiences something extra. I don’t like shows that completely change the script; you can make it fresher and younger, but the story and the period always have to be respected.
If there is one thing we know for certain, it’s that musical theatre evolves and formats change; yet for Gillian Bruce, the essence remains: choreography will always move hand in hand with story.
By the LETSGO Pen, Claudia Pérez Carbonell, on September 9th, 2025
