Fleur Darkin: Madame Jojo's on Sunday night is a great club night - even if it's not the way I'd choose to spend a Sunday evening nowadays.
I grew up in Bristol and there was a lot of that sort of thing there. I used to go to them when I was 16 or so and sometimes I'd bump into my mum. My mum has always loved that kind of thing. She loves dancing.
It took me longer to shed my inhibitions at Madame Jojo's than used to be the case. I never had that inhibition in my teens; I was able to get into the zone without trouble. But since I've studied dance and been running a company my drive has gone elsewhere - into other people, into making them dance. I just don't have the same need to do it anymore. Before, I had to do it, I had to express myself, but not now. Well, nothing like I used to. Dancing like that now, I feel like I'm just making shapes in a room ...
I became aware of Mum's taste for this kind of thing when I was about six, in 1981, on some kind of socialist march, her speaking into a megaphone. So I knew from the start she was an individual. And she's always been a great dancer; I mean, a really good dancer. We had a lot of happy times dancing together. We used to dance at home to Michael Jackson, R&B - soulful pop, I suppose. And it was always fun to see her in the clubs in Bristol.
It wasn't always fun though, when I was growing up. She's very spontaneous and I crave stability and security. For instance, I like to ring her on Sunday evenings but she doesn't like that: she doesn't want to feel she has an "appointment" with me. She wants us to speak ... whenever. It's fine now, but that kind of thing was much harder to deal with when I was 17.
I just accept her for who she is now, but for ages I was really disgruntled because she didn't seem to be how I thought a mother should be. We were very distanced for years. But I really value who she is now.
I think my mum and dad, who separated years ago, exhausted each other. They're horribly similar, actually. They're both kind of rebellious against who they're meant to be. My dad's a yogi in Bristol - very relaxed. My mum distrusts any form of constraint or rules. But it's not a conscious rejection of "being a good girl". Her dream ticket is Glastonbury festival - that freedom.
My suspicion is that she thinks I'm really uptight, and I guess I am compared to her. I suppose she thinks I'm a control freak. But I am. How can I not be? I run a business, I hire dancers, I workshop them, we do schools, I have to make sure dancers are where they're meant to be on tour all over the place.
We went to see the Bolshoi's The Pharaoh's Daughter. Fantastic seats. I think Mum really enjoyed it. I certainly did. A lot of people think the Bolshoi is elitist, but it's not - yeah, you're always aware of the mwah-mwah culture going on, but I can live with it.
I'd have really loved to have taken Mum to see Giselle because it's about female madness and it's really iconic. It's about girlhood, young virgins who die because their love isn't requited. They run around the forest - their torment is the second act - and it's just girlhood: all the masochism and beauty of girlhood; the death of girlhood. Jesus Christ, I wish my mum could have seen that. Now that would have been cathartic.
Damhnait Kelly: It was unbelievable at the ballet. I really didn't know what to expect, but it was incredible. A completely different culture to anything I'd experienced before.
The night before at Madame Jojo's I was really comfortable in my safety zone. But I wasn't sure how I was supposed to relate to [the ballet]. I got the impression there were a lot of people there who had been ballerinas in the past. And there were a lot of women in expensive designer clothes and retired people - I suppose this is how they must live, not worrying about going to work the next day. I really didn't want to say the wrong thing.
I've loved dancing since I was about 12. Since Fleur's been educated on it, I've talked about it a lot with her. I was brought up by nuns, in both Ireland and England, so I was in a very oppressive environment. I've come to realise that dance for me was a way of expressing myself and the only thing I could do to take control of my life. It was where I formed my identity.
I used to run away from school when I was 13 or 14 and go to the RamJam Club in Brixton and the Flamingo up in Wardour Street - anywhere I could get where there was music. When we came to London, I remember lying there at night and hearing the ska coming from the house behind. I remember thinking: "Woah, what is that!" This was 1964. It led me to find that life.
I used to love Top of the Pops every Thursday night. Being stuck at home with the kids, I couldn't get out to the clubs. And, years later, Fleur told me she used to love watching me dance to Top of the Pops. She said to me those were the happiest times in the house. Sounds a bit desperate, doesn't it?
But you see, I'd always wanted to be a dancer. I wanted to be like Fleur is now. So I went to dance classes every night after work in Covent Garden before Fleur was born. And I never had the confidence to continue with it.
I think what Fleur's doing now ... I think she's kind of done it for me. I don't think it's been a conscious thing, but I feel she's taken it a step further where I couldn't. I get so much reward and pleasure from seeing her dance now.
· Fleur and Damhnait went to Madame Jojo's, www.madamejojos.com, 020-7734 3040, and saw the Bolshoi at the Royal Opera House, www.royalopera.org, 020-7240 1200. Fleur Darkin's piece Disgo is part of the Place prize for dance, which is staged September 5-30 at The Place, London. For further information or to book tickets, call 020-7121 1100 or visit www.theplaceprize.com
