Hannah Goalstone, intimacy directior

Can you explain what an intimacy director does?

An intimacy director is a movement specialist who has three main areas of focus. The most obvious is that we help to choreograph and stage moments of intimacy. We also work as an advocate for both the performer and the crew’s boundaries, and we work as a liaison between the director, the heads of departments and performers to ensure that we’re all telling the same story in a way that is safe for everybody.

What’s your background?

I moved to the UK from New York and acted for about 25 years, did some directing and a lot of teaching.

Did you grow up in an artistic household?

Not particularly. My parents are very big appreciators of theatre, and so we saw a lot of theatre growing up. 

Did you act at school?

I did some acting in high school years, and a major in biology and theatre at university – Whitman College in Walla Walla, Washington, the onion capital of the world! Then I moved to Chicago and became a professional actor, did my master’s, and moved to New York.

Did you go to drama school?

Drama school is a little different in the US. I have a bachelor’s in theatre, and a master’s of fine arts. Two degrees, seven years of training.

What led you from acting to becoming an intimacy director?

One of my close friends was one of the first intimacy directors in the world. It felt like the right time for the industry to be making the shift. 

At what point do you get involved with the rehearsal process?

Ideally, I’ll get involved at the time of casting to oversee guidelines that assure the performers aren’t being asked to do simulated sexual acts in auditions. When they are being asked to do any level of undress, they should get a 48-hour notification saying we need to see a bare chest, bare legs or skin-tight clothing.

What is your rehearsal process?

I’m normally brought in pre-production to meet the director. Then I talk to each performer individually, discussing my understanding of what the director is wanting and asking them what their boundaries are with nudity. Sometimes they might say, ‘I feel comfortable having someone kiss my skin, but not my mouth’. I once worked with a performer who had a colostomy bag and didn’t want everyone to know about it, and they said ‘I’m fine with a cast member touching my waist, but I don’t want choreographers or directors touching me’.

Then I help liaise with costumes and sit in on any rehearsals involving intimacy. I’m there to specifically choreograph the scene, making acts look nuanced and real, while ensuring the performer’s safety. It’s just like fight directors who are brought in for a fight.

What was your first big break?

Working on season 3 of Bridgerton, and in the opera world, working at Glyndebourne. I’ve also worked on a few West End musicals. For musicals, when it’s a revival I’m working out how we keep the original choreography while giving the actors the opportunity to have small, nuanced changes. I worked on Phantom of the Opera and there’s a scene where the Phantom runs his hand across Christine’s body. That choreography can be maintained and Christine might say, ‘I’m perfectly happy with my collarbone being touched, but nothing too low’. Or maybe we don’t actually make contact with the hands – the fingers stay just slightly above the skin, so that the audience sees touch, but the touch isn’t actually happening.

Is it common to have an intimacy director on a play or an opera? Is it a relatively new idea?

I don’t think that we, intimacy directors, are the first people to do this work. Choreographers, directors and movement directors have been staging scenes of intimacy for the entire existence of live performance. What an intimacy director offers is the break in power dynamic, especially for a performer who’s just starting out their career. There are directors who’ve been in this industry for decades, and they can request to see more of the chest or a longer kiss. It’s really difficult for performers to advocate for themselves if they feel uncomfortable, because they don’t want to be seen as difficult and they want the next job. 

Is it assumed you’re there for the female cast?

People generally assume that I’m there to protect women, and there’s this assumption that men are perfectly comfortable taking off their clothes, and doing sexual acts as part of their professional career. There’s no other career that you’re asked to do intimate things with your colleagues.

What’s been your favourite piece?

For opera I would say Handel’s Semele because of the amazing team I worked with at Glyndebourne a couple of years ago. For film work it would have to be Bridgerton because I’m a historical drama fanatic.

Do you prefer doing straight theatre, opera or film?

I love the grandeur of opera, the costumes and beautiful sets, the stories and the immense talent. I’m not saying that straight actors don’t have this, but opera singers have to have an immense talent that very few other types of people need.

What have been the highlights of your career?

Bridgerton was a highlight of my career but I have also really enjoyed working on some of the smaller productions with performers who really needed the support of an intimacy director.

And the low lights?

Working with a director who’s not embracing intimacy direction yet. It’s understandable because it’s still new to the industry. But it’s probably those types of directors who need an intimacy director the most.

Would you recommend your job to a friend?

Oh, yes, absolutely. It’s a beautiful way of still being involved in the creative storytelling process while supporting actors, their careers and their sustainability in this really difficult career.

This article originally appeared in the Winter 2024 issue of Opera Now. Never miss an issue – subscribe today