In conversation with Lewis Walker

“‘Bornsick’ is basically the experience of being a queer child, born into a society where your existence is othered and can be condemned or confused.”

 - Lewis Walker

Lewis Walker. Photo by Paul Scala.

Lewis Walker is a London-born queer, non-binary movement artist. A former Great Britain gymnast and Acrobatic Gymnastics World Champion, they trained from age 6 to 21 before earning a degree in Contemporary Dance. Their work spans theatre, film, fashion, music, and the commercial sector. Walker continues to choreograph gymnastics competition routines for the Great Britain, Italian and French national teams. Their creative vision and dynamic movement style have led to collaborations with Tim Walker, Yorgos Lanthimos, ANOHNI, Tirzah, BULLYACHE, Burberry, UNTITLAB, and the Institute of Contemporary Arts (ICA).

Beyond performance, Walker is dedicated to teaching movement as a tool for accessing deeper states of consciousness and developing a deeper understanding of consensual touch. Their Connecting to Improv workshop explores dance improvisation as a ritual of shared energy and expression, while MOVE HYPNO, a collaboration with hypnotherapist Michele Occelli, blends movement and hypnotherapy for personal transformation.

Walker is currently a Studio Wayne McGregor RESIDENT 6 artist-in-residence.

We had a chat with them ahead of the premiere of Bornsick—their latest commission as part of the Serpentine Galleries’ live programme—which opens at The Round Chapel, Clapton on 21 & 22 May, before heading to the Edinburgh Art Festival on 23 August 2025.

You have had an extraordinary journey from world champion gymnast to acclaimed movement artist. What drew you to transition from competitive sport into the world of dance and performance?

From the age of 6 I had been completely hooked on acrobatic gymnastics, the history, culture, community and the training, it was my first love. I think the beginning of the end was when an internal dialogue regarding my queerness started getting louder, and in consequence a desire to gain knowledge and expansion outside of gymnastics. You train 6 days a week, and your life outside of the gym is usually doing things which supplement or safeguard the training. I started getting quite anxious towards the end of my career, bit fearful of the dangers of the sport and the responsibility I had with the gymnast I was training with, but in hindsight I think the lack of identity outside of gymnastics was diminishing my self-esteem. I had an ex-partner at the time who completely opened my eyes to world politics, queerness, race, colonisation, capitalism and in a very beautiful and needed way, a rude awakening. This separation from such a controlled and focused lifestyle enabled me to discover queer communities and friendships, where people literally liberated my mind and shifted how I saw the world. Dance was also part of that, because I was able to reconnect with movement where I wasn’t being scored or corrected, and I could learn to enjoy moving for pleasure with no outcome. 

Your movement style carries the precision of gymnastics but feels instinctive and emotive. How do you balance discipline with vulnerability in your physical language?

I think after 15 years of gymnastics, it is quite hard to shake the training and also the discipline. Being vulnerable within a show is performing something I am yet to feel liberated about. For example, choosing to perform nude because of insecurities in my body, or performing in stereotypically effeminate styles or attires because I hadn’t accepted parts of my gender expression. I think crossing these emotional barriers alongside a long-term and comfortable physical training helps balance the shows and also the audience experience.

Lewis Walker, Bornsick, 2025. Co-commissioned by Serpentine and EAF (Edinburgh Art Festival). Poster photography by: YISKID. Courtesy the artist, Serpentine and EAF.

Your latest commission, Bornsick, will premiere at The Round Chapel in May. How did the piece come together — from the initial idea to working with Serpentine and building a work of this scale?

Kostas, the Serpentine curator for the live performance commission came to watch my last show Compete for Me at the Resolution festival at The Place. I had a lot of people question me whether I would tour, extend and let the work continue, but I felt I needed a break from creating and to focus on my teaching practice. Kostas however approached me 7 months later and offered to commission a new work. I didn’t have a concept for a show in the pipeline, so I began figuring out what felt important to me at that moment. I had been getting quite obsessed with the conspiracy theory that shapeshifting reptilian aliens were controlling the Earth. Bear with me, I have always been very fascinated and scared of reptiles, and felt a natural embodiment of them in my movement language as an improviser. I don't believe that I am a reptilian alien, but it highlighted my experience as a queer person and the constant shapeshifting of character and expression depending on time and environment. Bornsick is basically the experience of being a queer child, born into a society where your existence is othered and can be condemned or confused. When things like your gender or sexuality do not fit into the status quo, how do we as a community use references and sub-communities of queerness to form identities. I started with the intention of having quite a scaled back work, nothing to elaborate and something sustainable to tour a lot, however as the work has grown, it’s become more ambitious, complicated and on a scale I haven’t worked at before. I love the challenge and the excitement of all the collaborators, I just hope that the work can live on in many countries and iterations while my body can perform it. 

You are staging it in the round on a full gymnastics sprung floor — which is a statement in itself. What does that kind of space allow you to do that a traditional stage does not?

The floor is made up of planks of wood, springs and a thick spongy carpet top. This creates the capacity to complete gymnastics elements, like somersaults, tumbles and falls which I cannot do on a conventional dance floor. My home is at this stage, competing globally in my childhood and early 20’s. I think the bravest moments in my life have been on this type of stage, packed out stadiums, rows of judges, and having to perform routines which I know if done perfect, could guarantee World Champion status. The margins for errors are so fine, so you can imagine waiting to mount the floor is a complex mindset of delusional confidence, excitement, fear and pressure. The history of years and years of mounting the mat, showing up, falling, winning, crying, injuring, falling over, getting up and most importantly performing, lives in me, and taking this to theatre or art contexts is a perfect way to showcase the physical extremes of competitive landscapes.

You have described your work as navigating inherited systems. What systems are you trying to break down or reimagine in Bornsick?

Many. Systems of oppression—including straight, heteronormative, and cisnormative systems—particularly within the UK and Eurocentric ideals, which perpetuate the binary of two genders. This rigidity creates unattainable expectations around how to live and live freely. The gender binary doesn’t just affect queer people, who actively push its boundaries; it affects everyone inside it, everyone playing roles, limiting the human experience to the expectations set by gender assigned at birth.

From birth, we—including myself—project a life determined by sex. I have a baby nephew, and when I imagine a life where he might be queer—perhaps gay, trans, or asexual—it feels almost like imagining a mystical existence for him, one where the world itself is at odds with who he could be. Perhaps that’s how I truly feel: that my queerness isn’t made for this world, or at least not for the frequency that Earth is currently vibrating on.

You have moved between elite sport, fashion, music, and experimental performance. Is there a space you have not stepped into yet that you are curious to disrupt?

Yes - I would love to choreograph for film, my movement has become increasingly more distorted and abstract, and choreographing for a zombie apocalyptic sci-fi alien moment would be right up my street. Simultaneously I have wanted to create a documentary art film covering the movement workshops I teach. My mum, nearly 70, and lots of non trained dancers, professional dancers and artists join for 3 hours of dancing and connecting in. It’s where I have found my purpose, and a place where I can witness and experience pure joy, liberation, and a very visceral shedding of stagnant energy.

Lewis Walker, Bornsick, 2025, trailer, still. Film by Leah Walker. Courtesy the artists, Serpentine and EAF.

The [Quick] #FLODown:

Best life advice?

Meditate 

Last song you listened to?

Save Your Tears - The Weeknd + Arianna Grande

Last book you read?

The Artist Way by Julia Cameron

Can't live without…?

My Partner Courtney 

What should the art world be more of and less of? 
More support for neurodivergent and disabled artists 
Less money from business that invest in weapons

Bornsick premieres at The Round Chapel, Clapton on 21 & 22 May and will then run at Edinburgh Art Festival on 23 August 2025.

Website: lewiswalker.uk
Instagram: @lewiswalker_x