Tales & Tellers Returns: Miu Miu’s Archive Comes Alive in New York

Tales & Tellers, the ever-evolving project initiated by Miuccia Prada and conceived by interdisciplinary artist Goshka Macuga, has returned for its second iteration, this time occupying New York’s Terminal Warehouse. Launched in Paris in 2024, the project merges installation, film and live performance, drawing from the maison’s runway shows and its long-running Women’s Tales film series.

This past weekend, the warehouse was transformed into a surreal nocturnal streetscape, where characters were extracted from films by directors such as Agnès Varda, Mati Diop and Lucrecia Martel and brought to life alongside projections of each film, creating a multi-layered encounter. Screens appeared in unexpected forms – embedded in a skateboard, a makeup compact or constructed into a pair of oversized binoculars – while costumes (Miu Miu designs, of course) were faithfully reconstructed, some for the first time since their runway debut over a decade ago.

In the fragmented landscape, the characters gathered, drifted or paused – custodians of their own small narratives. A girl skateboarded past a woman in a tulle skirt spinning under dim lights. Another stretched before moving into a boxing stance. While each event follows a script, the format remains open and fluid, allowing the audience to move freely between scenes, coming to their own interpretations.

In the following conversation, Macuga and Fabio Cherstich, a theater and opera director who collaborated on the characters’ choreographic movements, discuss the challenges in bringing this vision to life and the boundaries between cinema and city.

Tales & Tellers moved from Paris to New York — two cities with distinct cultural languages. How did the local contexts influence the tone and structure of this second iteration?

Goshka Macuba: We were actually talking about this just in the taxi. This show is much more complete than in Paris, in a way, because of how it connects to the city itself, and partly due to how Fabio’s commentary interacts with that context. The show here takes on the atmosphere of a New York street at night, full of activity and layered meaning. That nighttime setting also makes the projections and films more visible. In Paris, we worked with daylight, which made it much harder to follow the subtleties in the video works due to the brightness.

We also made several gestures that respond directly to the history of this particular site. This used to be a shipping warehouse, and apparently there were quite a few accidents – people were killed by trains or carriages. That’s where the idea of the “West Side Cowboy” came from – a person who would walk ahead of the train with a flag to warn others. We referenced that history in the installation. There’s also a piece originally tied to an Italian folk song, which we reimagined through clapping, rhythm and dance, drawing on the history of the Tunnel nightclub from the ’80s and ’90s. And of course we adapted to the architecture of the space. 

Fabio Cherstich: The Paris space, filled with daylight and formal architecture, felt like a public institution, almost parliamentary. In contrast, the New York venue is darker, more theatrical, like a long corridor, which allows for more layered storytelling possibilities. In Paris, you were always aware of being in the city, so we had to layer in natural audio, like the sound of the sea. But in New York, everything feels more immediate, more real – more grounded, in a way.

Plus, from the beginning Goshka had the intuition to break the traditional cinematic frame, moving beyond the limitations of film by adding a physical, three-dimensional presence through the characters. That was the first of many walls that were broken. A new language emerges. It’s difficult to define what exactly this is. Is it a show, a video installation, a performance, a theater piece, a film set, a cinema, a lounge? It’s all of those things at once. Just like Goshka herself; she encompasses many roles. This project is, in a way, a manifestation of that complexity.

How detailed were your instructions to the performers? Some of the interactions seem very organic. How strictly were they scripted?

FC The script was actually very precise. The performers were given detailed notes. At the same time, we use the presence of the audience to refine the work. Even now, one of my collaborators gives cues in real time, adjusting based on audience reactions. As a director, my role is to be the first spectator – to observe with the perspective of many, even when I’m alone. You constantly have to check if what you’re doing is readable, if it resonates. It’s a live, evolving environment. You only discover what works by opening the doors and seeing how people respond. That’s the beauty of it – it’s alive and organic, so it can adapt.

GM It’s not a screen. Of course, the images are remediated since there’s plenty of documentation online and in the press, but this is something you have to experience in person. And when the show ends, it feels like a loss – like a child leaving home. I don’t have children myself, but it’s that same emotional weight of letting go of something you’ve invested deeply in.

FM That feeling only comes from working with performers. You can do the most incredible show, but there’s a feeling of absence that is only human. Even if you have a beautiful exhibition, there’s melancholy once it’s finished. Humanity is about being together in one space.

Goshka, your work often draws from archives and questions historical authority. How did it feel to use the archive of a fashion house — one rooted in aesthetics and branding — as raw material for critique?

GM It’s interesting, because this really is an archive, one built over the last 14 years. I think that it looks very different in a way, but the challenge is very similar: how do you collect, categorize and recontextualize this information? It’s what I usually do, just on a much bigger scale. I also never saw these clothes on the runway. I only know them through the narratives and “Tales” they’re part of, many of which are tied to specific geographies and often carry political undertones. That global, societal lens is what I’m usually drawn to.

How do you approach the idea of femininity when it’s both personal and historically constructed – especially across disciplines like fashion, cinema and art?

GM It’s a complex and evolving topic, especially today. I’m deeply interested in the history of feminism – the struggle, the turning points when women began to resist oppression, and how that movement has transformed over time. That history informs how we approached femininity in this project. We didn’t invent a new framework; we’re using language that exists and we’re adding bits and pieces to show the transformations and shifts within this notion of femininity. Parts of the narrative include representations of people who identify themselves as women. 

At its core we want to empower women. One of the key ideas we explored – something Fabio really brought to the forefront – is how the individual woman becomes part of a group, and then part of a larger society. This was expressed through choreography, with women coming together in collective movement.

FC The project is especially meaningful because Miu Miu is a brand by and for women. I completely understand why Mrs. Prada invited Goshka to lead it. At its heart, this entire project is shaped by a female perspective.

GM She wants to empower women not just through fashion, but by providing a platform to create and share work – across Miu Miu, Prada and Fondazione Prada’s wide range of cultural initiatives.

FM There’s also the idea of being readable – of inviting interpretation through different gazes and sensibilities – which I think is central to the brand and to Mrs. Prada. She could just make clothes. But she’s full of constant curiosity, reinterpreting and reimagining. And because of that, clothes become much more than just clothes.