SODA Works 2020

The publication encourages transversal readings and can be interpreted as a companion to the work of the SODA year group 2018-2020. During the two year process, the students were invited to critically challenge, reflect and develop their artistic practice.

The publication encourages transversal readings and can be interpreted as a companion to the work of the SODA year group 2018-2020. During the two year process, the students were invited to critically challenge, reflect and develop their artistic practice.


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A<br />

AWARENESS 2 / 10<br />

AGENCY 6 / 8 / 22<br />

ALGORITHM 6 / 8 / 22<br />

AMBIGUITY 17 / 25<br />




18 / 22<br />

B<br />

BODY 10 / 14 / 18 / 26<br />

C<br />

CIRCUS 2 / 18<br />


15 / 20<br />

CODE 6 / 22<br />


/ 9 / 10 / 17 / 20 / 22<br />

/ 26<br />


CONDITION 2 / 15<br />


10 / 26<br />

D<br />


DANCE 2 / 7 / 8 / 12 /<br />

14 / 20<br />

DRIVE 2 / 10<br />

DIARY 20<br />

DICHOTOMY 17 / 25<br />

DISTANCE 2 / 7 / 22<br />

E<br />

EMBODIMENT 2 / 10 /<br />

15 / 18<br />


10 / 28<br />

F<br />

FAMILIARITY 10 / 25<br />



/ 22<br />

FIELD 10 / 15<br />

FLOW 2 / 10<br />

G<br />

GAME 21 / 22<br />

GAP 13 / 16<br />

H<br />

HOSTING 21 / 22<br />

I<br />

IMAGINATION 2 / 18<br />


6 / 12 / 14 / 20 / 22 /<br />

27 / 28<br />


ALCHEMY 26<br />

INTIMACY 2 / 10 / 18<br />

INTUITION 3 / 12 / 14<br />

/ 18<br />

J<br />


10 / 17 / 25<br />

L<br />

LANDSCAPE 2 / 8<br />

LIMINAL 10 / 25 / 26<br />

M<br />

MAGIC 4 / 10<br />

N<br />

NONSENS 2 / 25<br />

O<br />

OPENING 2 / 10 / 15<br />

/ 18<br />

ORDER 15<br />

P<br />


PRESENCE 2 / 12 / 25<br />

PROCESS 6 / 8 / 12<br />

/ 15<br />

PRACTICE 18<br />

R<br />

REAL-TIME 2 / 12<br />


18 / 25<br />

RECOGNITION 12 / 25<br />

REALITY 10<br />

RHYTHM 14<br />

RITUAL 3 / 13 / 14 / 20<br />

S<br />

SCALE 9 / 24<br />

SELF 13 / 18 / 22<br />


SILENCE 16 / 27 / 28<br />

SOLO 2 / 6 / 8 / 12 / 14<br />

/ 22 / 26<br />

SOUND 12 / 20 / 26<br />

/ 27<br />

SPACE 7 / 14 / 26<br />

SPECTRUM 2 / 24<br />

SPECULATION 2 / 22<br />


STATE / STATES 10 /<br />

15 / 24 / 27 / 28<br />


18<br />

SYSTEM 8 / 22<br />

T<br />

TRANS-<br />


TRUST 16 / 21<br />

TUNING 12 / 15<br />

V<br />

VIRTUAL 22<br />

W<br />

WHAT-IS-<br />


/ 9<br />

WRITING 12<br />

Z<br />

ZONE 2<br />

<strong>SODA</strong><br />



“Henceforth the writer [dancer, performer, artist, spectator] is immersed in multilinguism,<br />

which does not mean that he necessarily speaks or writes in different<br />

languages, but that the language and the culture of other languages and cultures,<br />

are always there in their multiple resonances, indispensable, and infusing his own<br />

cultural expression, in one way or another.”<br />

Bernadette Cailler on Édouard Glissant: Journal of French and Francophone Philosophy 19/1, 2011: 145.

This publication comes with a glossary index on its front cover: an unfinished list<br />

and collection of terms and ideas resisting completion - always to be revisited. Some<br />

words might feel familiar, others less so. Either way, during the artistic research and<br />

working processes of Kuba Borkowicz, Bernardo Chatillon, Jorge De Hoyos, Jason<br />

Corff, Ana Lessing Menjibar, Minna Partanen and Rhyannon Styles these words<br />

have gained momentum and been repeatedly identified with increasing specificity<br />

and in this iteration, accompany their final performance presentations for the MA<br />

program. Although the glossary and its alphabetic arrangement might suggest<br />

order, an overview or some kind of proven expertise, much of what it references<br />

lies in between its terms, best experienced fully through physical explorations,<br />

choreographed and improvised movement and embodied experience, focused<br />

theoretical encounters and incommensurable speculations, via small-scale, latent<br />

details of the everyday or strolling the streets together and gathering around food<br />

and drinks. To approach this, the publication encourages transversal readings. It<br />

is more of a companion to the work than a documentation of the two year process<br />

which invites students from diverse backgrounds and disciplines to critically challenge,<br />

reflect and develop their artistic practice. Accompanying those individual<br />

technical and theoretical skills brought into an academic setting, in dialogue with<br />

an international community of peers and teachers.<br />

While the focus of the MA <strong>SODA</strong> program is on the specific, individual<br />

body and movement-based performative practices of all participants, it also<br />

seeks to provide and open up a collective learning and research environment. The<br />

philosopher Édouard Glissant, in conversation with filmmaker Manthia Diawara,<br />

speaks of the necessity to “consent not to be a single being.” 1 His phrase, however,<br />

does not claim consensus and normative imagination, actions, values or rules. It<br />

is not about hasty alignments and quick declarations of sharing and complicity.<br />

Rather, it encourages us – artists, thinkers, audiences and citizens – to question<br />

ever anew what brings and holds our individual bodies together, and what tears<br />

them apart: what defines a body’s singularity while acknowledging its manifold<br />

perceivable and non-perceivable bonds and commitments to the contexts and surroundings<br />

in which it is embedded and in dialogue? The question of how to open<br />

up in our individual dances, performances and writings – which the conversation<br />

at the end of this publication addresses - considers alternative and collective ideas<br />

of agency and responsibility immanently bound to moving, thinking bodies. In<br />

Glissant’s terms, seeking to access a “poetics of relation” 2 , which navigates the<br />

challenge of not reducing other bodies, the body of the other, to existing models<br />

of that which we are ready to recognize.<br />


NOT TO BE A<br />


<strong>SODA</strong> (SOLO/DANCE/<br />



GRADUATES 2019/20<br />

1 Édouard Glissant and<br />

Manthia Diawara: „One<br />

World in Relation,“<br />

trans. by Christopher<br />

Winks. Journal of<br />

Contemporary African<br />

Art (2011, 4-19).<br />

2 Édouard Glissant:<br />

Poetics of Relation,<br />

trans. by Betsy Wing<br />

(Ann Arbor: University<br />

of Michigan Press 1997).<br />

Sandra Noeth for the team of the MA <strong>SODA</strong><br />

Prof. Rhys Martin (program leader), Sophia New, Prof. Dr. Sandra Noeth<br />

https://www.hzt-berlin.de/en/courses/study-courses/ma-soda/<br />





Embodiment does not<br />

have to do with my human<br />

body but with the<br />

relationship between<br />

my body and other bodies,<br />

whichever matter<br />

they are made from.<br />

Imagination and ideas<br />

are embodied when we<br />

give them a shape, that<br />

is what making staged<br />

pieces is about.<br />

The experience of being Bernardo is a fractal. Dance is an intermediate space for<br />

this fractal to emerge. All intermediate spaces are possible spaces to live in, invisible<br />

and visible. My intermediate space is based on what I experience in life. In my<br />

dance there are uncomfortable places; my dance is about paranoia, manipulation,<br />

violence between bodies, sex, fear, complexes, shame, terror, loneliness, panic, a lot<br />

of panic attacks, a lot of food to hide the pain and the crying, despair, my mother, my<br />

father, my grandparents, uncles, cousins, the neighbors around my neighborhood,<br />

the courtyard, heroin, blood, knives, weapons, television at lunch, television at<br />

dinner, television at breakfast, Jean Claude Van Damme, Sylvester Stallone, Arnold<br />

Schwarzenegger, DJ Quicksilver, Freddy Krueger, sad meals, policemen, Brazilian<br />

soap operas and trying hard to be a good skater, trying hard to ride a bike on only<br />

one wheel, trying hard to do sports, trying to be good at something, working, working<br />

to have money at McDonald’s, falling in love, falling in love, falling in love, love<br />

sometimes allowed and forbidden, a lot of fantasies, real danger, moments of death,<br />

some scandals, moments of clearness, inspiration, a lot of strength, motivation, until<br />

now -- this moment, where I believe is the place I project the plays where I make<br />

the future, the plays where I own the narrative, I shape, I own and I create. I am a<br />

consciousness having the experience of being Bernardo.<br />


what happens 24 hours<br />

a day. Improvisation<br />

is always happening<br />

even when we follow<br />

habits and patterns, it<br />

is the breath of fresh<br />

air, the key for us to<br />

become witnesses of<br />

our actions, it gives us<br />

agency. If we notice we<br />

are always improvising<br />

we may understand<br />

that we can change the<br />

course of our actions.<br />

Improvisation is eradicated<br />

by political and<br />

economic structures of<br />

power: the possibility of<br />

citizens realizing they<br />

can change the way<br />

they follow systems<br />

and rules.<br />


Imagine you go to a place where you are asked what is most relevant and important<br />

to you. This is <strong>SODA</strong>. Then you are asked to show answers to these questions and<br />

explain how you found them. This is also <strong>SODA</strong>.<br />

So, how can I access, show and translate an idea and concept that is so ingrained<br />

in layers and layers of habits of speech, thought and movement? How can I dig<br />

through those layers to uncover the answers? In this process of digging I have<br />

revealed a part of me that creates stimuli and generates questions that give me<br />

new options to reflect on what I say or do. These reflections make me critical of my<br />

means of expression. The possibility to have time for self-criticism and -reflection is<br />

a candy, a present, a privilege. What have I done with this? I returned to my origins,<br />

back to my family. To the smile of my grandfather when he did magic tricks for<br />

us. What was this childhood aura that made me feel alive and connected? It was<br />

an environment of magic, and when I said this word I started to think about what<br />

is magic, what is this concept and as it emerged in me I was reminded of the way<br />

in which I entered the dance studio: as if there were two different worlds, one I<br />

inhabited as a child and a new one there in the studio, of rehearsal and practice.<br />

But they are not separated...<br />

During my time at <strong>SODA</strong>, I went home to see my grandfather<br />

and he asked me what I was doing in Berlin. I told him that I go to the studio and<br />

there I am a kind of scientist looking for ways to speak about the world and my<br />


experiences, ways of relating with people and making dance pieces. For example,<br />

I believe that in the future people will be able to fly so I go to the studio and<br />

I try to fly in the studio. And my grandmother says, “You are crazy just like your<br />

grandfather with all that stuff about magic and tricking people.” But it’s true. I<br />

go to the studio, I stand still and don’t move for an hour and then strange things<br />

start to happen. “See, that’s witchcraft!” “No, but if you stop that fork with food<br />

on the way to your mouth don’t you start feeling things? That’s what I do in the<br />

studio. I wait for it to tell me things.” And my grandfather says, “That’s like when<br />

I am making magic tricks and people are waiting for something to happen and<br />

try to understand what is the trick.” “Yes, but in my case when I go to the studio<br />

I trick myself into waiting for the magic to happen and then I try to repeat these<br />

experiments and show them to the people in school.”<br />

This is what I am doing when I work with concepts of real-time<br />

composition and improvisation in my work: I read the space and the audience so<br />

that I can react and create my tricks on stage. My grandfather knows the tricks he<br />

will do, but he always has to contextualize them, which has to do with reading the<br />

audience and the space. What interests him is to insert dynamics into the space and<br />

to activate it. As if he is orchestrating and modulating the space through his voice<br />

and movements. When I go to the studio I work with movement, words, time and<br />

space of the studio to create my magic trick, my piece. When I explained this to my<br />

grandfather, he asked,“That’s all very good, but how can you be sure that you will<br />

produce in the audience that moment when they get amazed, like when I reveal<br />

that the toothpick they broke isn’t really broken?” “I don’t know yet...”<br />


· Don’t get lost in the map.<br />

· Easy Going Going Easy<br />

· Intuition and free association are the grounds for my process.<br />

· Everything is visible and part of the stage, audience included.<br />

There is no way to exit.<br />

· The project asks for the medium. The content asks for the form.<br />

· Real-time composition is just one possibility.<br />

· Improvisation is a political weapon.<br />

· Giving attention is a process of civilization.<br />

· The aim is always different.<br />

· Studio practice affects the real and the logical.<br />

· Words serve to distract and confuse: use this in your favor to find<br />

what is already there.<br />

· Words serve to focus and clarify: use this in your favor to find<br />

what is already there.<br />

· Seek satisfaction. The satisfaction with yourself, the world, reality.<br />

RITUAL<br />

a practice that disrupts<br />

and dismantles perception.<br />

This rupture grants<br />

access to other ways of<br />

gathering and generating<br />

knowledge of the<br />

world as a complex and<br />

non-linear entity. The<br />

body knows the world is<br />

not as linear as it is portrayed,<br />

so it accumulates<br />

pressure and tensions,<br />

as it faces the conflict<br />

from different perceptions.<br />

Creating artistic<br />

work is a way to develop<br />

rituals that acknowledge<br />

both the world and time<br />

as non-linear paths.<br />


This is the source of all inspiration and the impulse to create.<br />

· Seek dissatisfaction. The dissatisfaction with yourself, the world, reality.<br />

This is the source of all inspiration and the impulse to create.<br />

· All spaces have their mysterious zones. But if we enter spaces as a tourist,<br />

we do not have access to the mysteries of these zones.<br />

· Rituals give structure; structures are endless.<br />

· Technique is what allows me to continue independent from motivation.<br />

· It is time to return to oral tradition.<br />

· No one taught me how to walk, I copied a vertical template.<br />

· No one will teach me how to levitate, I need a levitating template.<br />

· Beware of sleeping and waking up.<br />

· Remember to recall or revisit moments where I have experienced Magic.<br />

· Use suggestion and visualization as generative tools.<br />

· Create a glossary for each creation.<br />

· Work with invisible collectives.<br />

· The topic - the visualization - the experience - the repetition - the frame.<br />

· Choreographic memory is a thermometer to see if we were present<br />

during a research process.<br />

· Waiting is a tool, but it can also be something else.<br />

· Music and objects work when you are not dependent on them to keep<br />

the energy you search for in your dance.<br />

· A solo is a duet that becomes a familiar monologue between generational<br />

layers of the body.<br />

· What do you eat, what do you think, what do you say before and after<br />

you go into research?<br />

· My generation is experiencing an era of perceived and non-perceived crises...<br />

I want to work on a non-perceived crisis. How do I manifest this?<br />

MAGIC<br />

It’syouuuuuuuuuuuuuu<br />

uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu<br />

uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu<br />

uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu<br />

uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu<br />

uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu<br />

uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu<br />

uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu<br />

uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu<br />

uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu<br />

uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu<br />

uuuuuuuuuuu<br />


I am looking for a place with people that believe the world is beyond what we<br />

see and that there is a lot of artistic, political and social work to do between the<br />

visible and the invisible. I want to find this place, so that together we can access<br />

these worlds that are not logical or practical or clear. In order to do this, I am creating<br />

practices through which I can access insights that help me shape and refine<br />

intuitive processes. This is one example, where for three days I sat in my room<br />

working with CA Conrad’s somatic writing exercises.<br />


levanta voo<br />

despega<br />

para matar<br />

Racha<br />

Excalibur<br />

o livro<br />

dentro do<br />

mapa<br />

massa<br />

porco<br />

cabra<br />

o Raio<br />

Vertical<br />

Baixo<br />

Cima<br />

cristal<br />

congela<br />

Chora<br />

corta<br />

retina<br />

cega<br />

rasga<br />

que não há<br />

O gordo nos<br />

folhos<br />

é Júpiter<br />

Arvore de<br />

figos!<br />

rósna<br />

uma linha mais<br />

dura<br />

a luz<br />

nas unhas<br />

na pele<br />

no centro<br />

no meio<br />

o braço<br />

o braço a<br />

meio<br />

Perfume<br />

os dois no mesmo<br />

ar<br />

estão a rodar<br />

susto<br />

um Laço na<br />

espada<br />

Agua<br />

limite lento<br />

(tempo)<br />

aldeia de<br />

zebras<br />

princepe<br />

não há<br />

apenas<br />

olhos<br />

nos teus<br />

olhos<br />

doente<br />

Mordida<br />

queima<br />

incha<br />

na ponta<br />

Fino<br />

calaram-se as<br />

baterias<br />

Tremo<br />

imagens<br />

calaram-se as<br />

baterias<br />

tremo<br />

o frio<br />

água<br />

tremo<br />

a criação<br />

engalinha-se<br />

sou filho de<br />

todas<br />

vi assim<br />

Queimar<br />

ditaram<br />

soltar a<br />

esgrima<br />

pesado<br />

refazer<br />

mãe<br />

as coisas merecem<br />

atenção<br />

As coisas merecem<br />

atenção<br />

eu sou todos menos<br />

esse mesmo<br />

um<br />

dos<br />

vou sentir<br />

memoria<br />

queimo<br />

no inferno<br />

impulso<br />

Sou peso<br />

palavras<br />

figura<br />

mecanica<br />

descender<br />

mais nada<br />

Gritos<br />

fogueira<br />

Acontece o<br />

medo<br />

tempo<br />

contemplar<br />

o segredo<br />

a dança em<br />

mim<br />

cantiga<br />

cinzas<br />

mascara<br />

o que me<br />

deste<br />

Amor<br />

este mundo<br />

inflamavél.<br />

Á imagem do que podias<br />

imaginar<br />

abro a porta<br />

Nada<br />

vou à volta<br />

pela chapa do<br />

sol<br />

o cheiro da cozinha<br />

antiga<br />

visual perdido<br />

a minha lingua<br />

desenrola-se as patas<br />

avanção<br />

assumo a forma<br />

perfeita<br />

acelerado vou ao<br />

encontro<br />

No menu do teu estomago,<br />

ácido<br />

fez-me num<br />

dia<br />

vomitei<br />

a minha cara<br />

consagração<br />

o que esperas ser<br />

espirito<br />

lagarto neste<br />

dia<br />

o tempo<br />

espera-nos<br />

liquido<br />

expilrro<br />

palavras<br />

ácido<br />

Terror<br />

termino<br />

desejo mál<br />

desejo<br />

mesmo<br />

as botas que tu<br />

exibias<br />

a tua cara<br />

mereces<br />

vergonha<br />

entre as narinas uma<br />

chama<br />

grito<br />

livros atrás de<br />

livros<br />

os anos que<br />

perdi<br />

atras de mim<br />

perdi-me<br />

esta vergonha<br />

solta<br />

despe em<br />

cúspo<br />

o teu<br />

aos olhos<br />

a minha avó na cozinha<br />

a prever<br />

o que tu<br />

partiste<br />

queimas-te<br />

matas-te<br />

e mesmo assim<br />

continua-va a<br />

cozinhar<br />

a preparar<br />

sessão<br />

ritual<br />

seja<br />

salvou<br />

louros<br />

do mercado<br />

morre César<br />

descoberto<br />

riso louco<br />

Ela cozinhou<br />

nós todos<br />

comemos<br />

não te<br />

lembras?<br />

Vinha<br />

misturado<br />

Arroz<br />

tomate<br />

coloquial<br />

soletras<br />

o bom nosso de cada<br />

dia<br />

Lagarto<br />

visto<br />

ataco<br />

água<br />

ausencia<br />

complicadas<br />

febres<br />

assaltavam<br />

tudo<br />

de cima a<br />

baixo<br />

estrada<br />

chega<br />

Nosferatos<br />

cortejo<br />

pequenas<br />

cordas<br />

o amor deixa as<br />

marionetes<br />

escamas<br />

resuscito<br />

monto em cavalos e<br />

cascos<br />

apodrece<br />

virulentos<br />

uma côr<br />

(forma)<br />

apoderasse<br />

choro<br />

quimico<br />

arde<br />

Agora que te<br />

sabes<br />

sabes igual<br />

O que te deram<br />

hoje<br />

todas as<br />

refeições<br />

Raspar<br />

esperar<br />

faz-se em ti<br />

confunde<br />

buraco<br />

prontidão<br />

Retaguarda<br />

tempo<br />

só sobras<br />

a morte<br />

nada<br />

espera<br />

perto de voar<br />

desenrola<br />

a bacia<br />

oca<br />

afunda<br />

nada me<br />

deves<br />

avesso<br />

se saíres por onde<br />

entras-te<br />

nunca tivesses<br />

saído.<br />

escrever<br />

incesto<br />

Na maçã as<br />

árvores<br />

ponto<br />

som<br />

rrrrrasgão<br />

morreste<br />

ponto<br />

poema de rua<br />

silencio<br />

ponto<br />

fiquei<br />

escutar<br />

mostra<br />

poema<br />

ponto<br />

incredulo<br />

morrer<br />

mostras-te<br />

quantas vidas<br />

tiveste<br />

ponto<br />

quantas vidas<br />

tive<br />

pensei<br />

quantas vou<br />

ter<br />

até me olhares nos<br />

olhos<br />

agora que me<br />

viste<br />

ponto<br />

que fazer<br />

assisto<br />

o que se sabe<br />

é isto que se<br />

lê<br />

nada se forma<br />

em nada<br />

Partimos<br />

juntos<br />

sem dar as<br />

mãos<br />

sentimos o<br />

cruzar<br />

interno<br />

eterno<br />

um x que se<br />

faz<br />

promete a tua<br />

barriga<br />

promete<br />

partida<br />

naquilo<br />

sou<br />

sei<br />

saio<br />

entro<br />

sempre gostei<br />

entro mais<br />

sou e sei<br />

mais aquilo<br />

mais forte<br />

sempre<br />

gostei<br />

engorda<br />

Mistério<br />

Levanta voo.<br />


JASON<br />

CORFF<br />


A stochastic process, a<br />

system of rules that can<br />

be used as a predictive<br />

technology. One system<br />

that allows its user to<br />

know an outcome or at<br />

least have a semblance<br />

of an outcome before a<br />

process is undertaken.<br />

CODE<br />

Mask for information<br />

to hide importance,<br />

intention and meaning.<br />

A code is its own language,<br />

a way something<br />

understood by one is<br />

communicated to others.<br />

A code’s reader could<br />

decipher meaning different<br />

from what its maker<br />

intended. In this case,<br />

a message could be<br />

skewed or reinterpreted.<br />

It could be broadened; it<br />

could be narrowed.<br />


Excerpt from a transcribed conversation with self while moving.<br />

09.09.19 11:05 N 52˚ 33’ 11.693” E 13˚ 22’ 36.891”<br />

Here. Arrival. Here. Here is a closed system. Here is a location. Here is definitively<br />

different from there. Here can be defined by what it is not. Not far away. Not in<br />

the past. Not in the future. Here. Here can be shown with coordinates. Here. It<br />

can be shown with time. Here. Meaning more than coordinates. Meaning more<br />

than a moment. Because here indicates presence. Here could be shelter. Here<br />

could be food. Here might be what you find or what you need. Here includes you.<br />

Here indicates you have arrived. Here is no longer there.<br />

Arrival. Arrival is a point in space with meaning. Arrival is an<br />

intentional location. You are aware you have arrived when you can say, “I am here.”<br />

Here. Begin. Arrival is not just here. Arrival indicates now. You cannot arrive at a<br />

place unless you intend to be there. You cannot arrive unless you arrive early, late,<br />

or on time. You have arrived. Your destination becomes a point of arrival. Here.<br />

You have arrived when your presence, your awareness, enters a point in space.<br />

At that point and that moment, space becomes place. Place has meaning because<br />

you define it through your presence. That point in space is here. Arrival. Arrival<br />

is a stopping. Arrival is an end. Arrival always involves here. Always.<br />

Because here is a point in space, because here is a point with<br />

meaning, always here becomes place. Here is where intention leads. A point of<br />

arrival. So here is linked to time. Here is the endpoint of a journey. Here is defined<br />

space. Here is a closed system. And here is fleeting. Here cannot stay. When you<br />

step away from here, your understanding of here shifts.<br />

Here. There. Not here.<br />

The difference between here and there: between here and not<br />

here is not here always represents a loss. Not here is never present. Not here is<br />

unattainable. It’s unreachable, forever behind you, and forever in front.<br />

You can never say, “I am not here”, but if you know where it is<br />

that you are not, you will always know you are here, that you have arrived. Here<br />

is the present tense. Here is a moment in time, always now.<br />

A walking score sends you into the landscape. A walking score<br />

prejudges distance. A walking score determines your journey, your expedition,<br />

your there. But a walking score relies on you to recognize when you are here,<br />

when you have arrived. It is your endpoint that has meaning and your endpoint<br />

that you carry at all times. Your sense of here, your sense of now, your sense of a<br />

different closed system.<br />

Arrival. Here. Begin.<br />


We think of distance in<br />

terms of both space and<br />

time. To cross distance<br />

requires a journey, a<br />

measurement, to understand<br />

you have traveled<br />

from here to here. Distance<br />

is a gap that contains<br />

the entirety of this<br />

journey. Distance can be<br />

measured, but it cannot<br />

rightly be predicted<br />

because distance holds<br />

experience yet to be.<br />


Walking Score, No. 2<br />


A survey of the space<br />

before us. Landscape<br />

involves textures,<br />

relations, challenges.<br />

Landscape is a habited<br />

space. Landscape<br />

can be traversed. A<br />

landscape can be<br />

familiar or it can be<br />

alien, but a landscape is<br />

always known to Some.<br />

To others it may need<br />

to be found or experienced,<br />

but to Some it is<br />

always familiar.<br />

What you will need:<br />

1 deck of Tarot cards<br />

1 landscape to explore (e.g., city, plaza, park, orchard, living room, etc.)<br />

1 camera<br />

π= 3.14159265358979323846264…<br />

Steps:<br />

1. Shuffle the Tarot deck thoroughly. As you shuffle, ask yourself “What shall I<br />

focus on as I walk?”, or use a similar phrasing that resonates more strongly<br />

with you.<br />

2. When you have finished shuffling the cards, place them in front of you.<br />

3. Select the top card and turn it over.<br />

4. Focus on the details in the imagery of the card. Rely on either your preexisting<br />

knowledge of Tarot or a guide such as one included with the deck, contained<br />

in A Complete Guide to the Tarot by Eden Gray, on a website, etc. to familiarize<br />

yourself with the meaning of the card.<br />

5. Note the number of the card (e.g., 7 of Wands, card 9 [The Hermit], etc.). For<br />

non-numbered cards, use 11 for a Page, 12 for a Knight, 13 for a Queen, and<br />

14 for a King. This number will become the number of decimal places of π to<br />

use for the next section of this score.<br />

Example: Card 14 [Temperance]- an achievement of mental balance,<br />

adaptation, coordination, modification. Successful combinations.<br />

π is calculated to 14 decimal places at 3.14159265358979<br />

6. Each digit of π will determine how many units you will walk before making<br />

a turn. A turn can range from 0˚-360˚. This choice is yours, either as a firm<br />

decision to make prior to beginning your walk or in the midst of the structure.<br />

Turns will alternate right and left with each successive digit.<br />

7. Decide what will constitute one unit for the walk you are about to begin. One<br />

unit could be one city block, one paving stone, the duration of one song you<br />

listen to on headphones, etc.<br />

8. Begin the walk when you are ready. If the number of the card you selected<br />

was even, begin your walk by turning to the right. If the number was odd,<br />

this first turn is to the left.<br />

9. During the walk, give thought to the meaning of the card you selected.<br />

10. When you finish walking the units prescribed by your calculation of π, pause<br />

and observe your surroundings. Take a photograph of what you see.<br />

Note:<br />

On occasion, you might find you cannot walk the necessary number of units<br />

because of an obstruction or because the path in front of you ends. If this<br />

occurs, ricochet your trajectory off that endpoint and continue to count units<br />

until the next determined turn.<br />


SCALE<br />

A means to define this<br />

as that. Scale creates<br />

proportion to help a<br />

new learner grasp the<br />

iconography of a space<br />

or a place. Scale is<br />

necessary for navigation,<br />

indicating that you<br />

have come this far, this<br />

high. Scale insists what<br />

you see is not what is.<br />

Scale insists there is<br />

more, there is less.<br />

Photos © Effy Grey<br />

Π<br />

3.1415926535897932384<br />

62643383279502884197<br />

16939937510582097494<br />

4592307816406286208<br />

99862803482534211706<br />

79821480865132823066<br />

4709384460955058223<br />

172535940812848111745<br />

02841027019385211055<br />

5964462294895493038<br />

19644288109756659334<br />

46128475648233786783<br />

16527120190914564856<br />

6923460348610454326<br />

64821339360726024914<br />

12737245870066063155<br />

88174881520920962829<br />

25409171536436789259<br />

0360011330530548820<br />

4665213841469519415116<br />

09433057270365759591<br />

9530921861173819326117<br />

93105118548074462379<br />

96274956735188575272<br />

489122793818301194912<br />

9833673362440656643<br />

08602139494639522473<br />

71907021798609437027<br />

705392171762931767523<br />

84674818467669405132<br />

00056812714526356082<br />

778577134275778960917<br />

36371787214684409012<br />

24953430146549585371<br />


JORGE DE<br />

HOYOS<br />


Risk on potato bag #2<br />

by Alessandro Ubirajara<br />



Nothing exists in<br />

isolation to itself. Every<br />

thing has a relationship<br />

to other things and<br />

finds its constitution<br />

through these<br />

relationships.<br />


In terms of performance,<br />

the act of<br />

physically responding<br />

in real-time to internal<br />

and external impulses<br />

and shaping these<br />

responses so as to<br />

share with an audience.<br />

The public space where<br />

intuition gains a body.<br />


A state of existence<br />

where consciousness<br />

intersects with<br />

limitation.<br />


the repeated process<br />

of incorporating an<br />

“other” into a self, and<br />

vice versa. This process<br />

implies an expansion of<br />

one’s understandings of<br />

themselves.<br />

Alessandro and I met at a Berlin sex club where we immediately entered into a<br />

committed boyfriend relationship from the moment we made each other orgasm<br />

until around 8am the next morning—one of the most erotic nights I’ve ever had.<br />

After this 11-hour, polyamorous partnership, we didn’t see each other until riding<br />

on the S-Bahn a year later. We didn’t become regular friends until even months<br />

after that. Now, having grown very close, Alessandro mentioned how a deep,<br />

inner-guidance insisted that he must get to know me that night. I remember our<br />

attraction…not just sexual but some-cosmic-thing else that leaves a distinct impression,<br />

the feeling of which is specifically easy for me to recall. It feels like the<br />

bitter taste of semen and carbonated beer being washed away and swallowed by<br />

a soothing, ravenous tongue. It feels like recognizing.<br />

As my visual arts collaborator, I asked him to contribute an image<br />

that reflects and gives insight into my ongoing research on presence: how can I be<br />

more deeply grounded in my body so as to improvise dance performance at my<br />

fullest capacities—to not overthink so as to allow my intuition to lead the dancing?<br />

The work demands releasing control of rational decision-making procedures so as<br />

to allow whatever is inside of me or wanting to come through me to gain physical<br />

expression into legible form.<br />

I was explaining, “In general, but also specifically for the final<br />

presentation, I want to be dancing so open and full of vitality so that my spirit can<br />

be free and I can embody and satisfy all the passions and desires. You know, like<br />

Billy Elliot who later becomes the beautiful Swan...” With a knowing look he said,<br />

“I have something that is you. I will send.”<br />

There is an inherent violence in expanding beyond borders, in<br />

entering territories defined in relationship to oneself as “other”. This process<br />

entails confrontation, a struggle for dominion. In the context of becoming more<br />

grounded as a dancer to perform at an expanded capacity, this struggle takes place<br />

in the realm of the self and is largely a matter of recognition. Recognition is here<br />

understood by the fact that borders demarcating a sense of oneself as separate<br />

from an “other” are always changing and that, through a continuous tug-of-war,<br />

processes of incorporation and growth occur as one side eventually cannibalizes<br />

the other. The “other” becomes the self, and vice versa. Recognition, therefore, is<br />

a repeated process of incorporation. It means to expand one’s definitions of what<br />

constitutes one’s self to include otherness. The violence inherent in this process<br />

emerges from the precondition of ongoing struggle, and the violence intensifies<br />

and gains sharp teeth when this process is resisted.<br />

I initially resisted Alessandro’s painting—a screaming figure masturbating<br />

as a demonic shadow looks on. I feared to recognize it as the accurate<br />

and insightful reflection of my research that I now consider it to be. Upon first<br />

encounter, my stomach clenched as if trying to stabilize an internal breach, as if<br />

clenching could prevent something personal and valued from cracking. Yes, the<br />


image could relate to the human-to-swan transformation story with which I was<br />

initially identifying, but it was the nightmarish, “other” black swan version that had<br />

manifested like an intruder. I felt momentarily seized in suspension between my<br />

resistance and an impending sense of destabilization. The violence in this uncanny<br />

confrontation felt like the instinct to defend myself or seek refuge. Have I been<br />

understanding myself and my research in an entirely wrong way, foolish and even<br />

immoral? Have I naively opened myself up too much, leaving me susceptible to<br />

a demonic takeover or an eternal hell of serving relentlessly throbbing passions?<br />

At stake was a sense of personal power…am I now lost?<br />

Of all the fears I experience while dance improvising in front<br />

of others, getting lost is the strongest and the most recurring. It happens when<br />

I worry: Am I really present? Will I look ridiculous if I follow that feeling? Am I<br />

being interesting enough? Such thoughts create a mind-body split, and in this gap<br />

between intuitive impulse and physical action, time goes missing. I become confused<br />

and fearful and lose orientation leaving me vulnerable to the rampage of internal<br />

voices. What results is that my spirit, for fear of demise, seems to evacuate my<br />

body while my physical remains proceed to operate along habitually programmed<br />

movement pathways, like a machine on autopilot—unresponsive. Dancing like this<br />

feels from the inside like a waking rigor mortis. A body somehow survives but at<br />

the cost of the quality of life.<br />

Grounding my energy has become my main area of inquiry and<br />

practice to keep re-finding myself in my body and, in the process, to revitalize<br />

it. Breathing deeply, for example, is one of the everyday tools I use to dissolve<br />

stiffness—stiffness as in freezing into pre-defined patterns, as in becoming slave<br />

to the tyrannical penis-passions depicted in the painting, as in not moving freely.<br />

Breathing, a main way of grounding, helps me dissolve internalized obstructions<br />

so as to cultivate my intuition.<br />

Confronting Alessandro’s painting, I breathe deeply to dissolve<br />

my resistance to recognizing how something so true and revealing about me--my<br />

desires, dreams and questions--stands naked, reflected and immaculately transparent<br />

to my perception.<br />

As the spiritual teacher Caroline Myss explains: “Every time you<br />

learn something that is more accurate, more authentic, or true than what you<br />

were just believing, you crack open a little bit. In that moment of cracking open,<br />

you become very vulnerable because you know that the world you were just living<br />

in is gone. It evaporates in front of your eye. Just like that” (Myss 2019).<br />

Billy Elliot. Directed by Stephen Daldry. Universal City, CA: Universal Studios, 2001.<br />

Myss, Caroline. (2019). Understanding Your Own Power – Enchantment 2018. [YouTube Lecture]<br />

Available at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zeY_SmJafSQ&t=203s [Accessed 14 Sep. 2019]<br />

Ubirajara, Alessandro. Risk on potato bag #2. 2015, Berlin.<br />

SELF<br />

a conglomerate of different<br />

entities constantly<br />

vying for dominion over<br />

a physical body. A constant<br />

process of seeking<br />

harmony between the<br />

voices in the mind.<br />




Having a background in flamenco dance,<br />

design and visual arts, in my studies at<br />

<strong>SODA</strong> I started to investigate the limits of<br />

the genre of flamenco, exploring its transformative<br />

potential within contemporary<br />

performance practice; looking specifically<br />

at its dramaturgical structure; interrelated<br />

rhythms; emotional and energetic<br />

states and movement qualities.<br />

Experimenting with a cultural legacy<br />

archived within my body.<br />

True to Joseph Beuys’ motto “Show your<br />

wound,” flamenco for me is an artform<br />

based on a collective agreement to listen<br />

to a single body’s wound. You merge with<br />

the other, you become the other. “Sensing<br />

is sharing” (Arno Böhler 2019). This collective<br />

agreement about sharing and sensing<br />

transforms pain into energy, empowerment<br />

and even joy. The performance<br />

as a collective emotional and energetic<br />

journey, or perhaps even a ritual?<br />

Between the ecstatic and formal<br />

investigation I open this archive to<br />

reveal a series of states, creatures and<br />

concepts of spaces. This collective<br />

journey includes: a digital and<br />

energetic feedback loop, a vulnerable<br />

dialogue of inner and outer bodily<br />

sounds and rhythms in a hybrid space<br />

somewhere between installation and<br />

the black box theatre.<br />


is polyhedral, - morph,<br />

- metric. A process of<br />

shaping, sculpting and<br />

deformation.<br />

Different styles exist in flamenco, and<br />

each has a specific topic and structure.<br />

Some are dedicated to joy, playfulness or<br />

sorrow. These styles are built on a shared<br />

knowledge of structure, fragments, rules<br />

and signs that form a language of communication<br />

for improvisation. This collective<br />

knowledge has been transmitted<br />

over generations from one body to another.<br />

I am interested in analysing one<br />

such structure and its fragments. With<br />

their interrelated meanings, functions,<br />

rhythms and physicalities, I can create my<br />

own interpretation of the form.<br />

A methodology to isolate a vocabulary.<br />

The first step of my research was to analyse<br />

a flamenco structure by asking: How<br />

is it composed? Why is it constructed like<br />

Transition from something personal to<br />

something collective.<br />

Methods & Strategies.<br />

Body, space and sound.<br />

Poly­<br />

hedral.<br />

morph.<br />

Decomposition<br />

metric.<br />

goes beyond the limits of the<br />

flamenco genre.<br />

Plasticity.<br />

Observation.<br />

Translation.<br />


Exploration.<br />

Transformation.<br />

Formal investigation.<br />

Embodied knowledge.<br />

Order and disorder.<br />

this? What does it provoke in the body?<br />

I conducted this research from the perspective<br />

of a moving body, as I wanted a<br />

better understanding of the choreographic<br />

decision-making processes behind it.<br />

This investigation made me aware of the<br />

strategies and methods of composition and<br />

made me recognize and articulate procedures<br />

and processes that have so far run<br />

rather unconsciously through my body. I<br />

divided the traditional structure into acts<br />

or fragments and formulated my own titles<br />

and interpretations derived from their primary<br />

functions within the whole.<br />

ORDER<br />

is the fraternal,<br />

conjoined, disowned,<br />

orphaned twin of chaos.<br />

There exists no order<br />

without chaos.<br />

To open a collective field.<br />

Being in the moment.<br />

The vulnerable body.<br />

Empowered body, calling for change.<br />

Body as a source and holder of sound<br />

and rhythm.<br />

Technical transfer of the involved<br />

body.<br />

Inner meets outer world.<br />

Share your wound.<br />

Meta text.<br />

Receiving, reading and processing.<br />

Sonic, energetic and emotional circuit<br />

as an impulse generator.<br />

Bringing into being.<br />

Friction.<br />

Storytelling. Juxtaposition.<br />

Tech-body.<br />

Introduccion<br />

Opening a door, to step in is about a<br />

body that tunes into a space and an emotional<br />

state. Coming together. The act of<br />

merging, of immersion.<br />

Llamada<br />

The call serves to draw attention, to raise<br />

the pace and intensity with the intention<br />

to provoke a change, in order to conclude<br />

and begin a new part of the choreography.<br />

All the tension and energy the body<br />

has absorbed erupts and spreads into the<br />

space, saying, “Here I am!”<br />

Letra<br />

Fight and Poesis. The body as a polymorphic<br />

space & the space as a polymorphic<br />

field. This fragment is an emotional<br />

and poetic part where the body tunes<br />

into a collective agreement to channel,<br />

discharge and transform energy and express<br />

emotions in the form of a dialogue.<br />

An emotional, energetic and rhythmic<br />

feedback loop. The body has the responsibility<br />

to listen, to hold, to stimulate the<br />

Digital manipulation and multiplier of field and to react to provocation through<br />

energetic outbursts.<br />

STATE<br />

is a condition in a<br />

specific time and place.<br />

State is a condition<br />

without awareness of<br />

any specific time and<br />

place.<br />


Remate<br />

Provocation. A stimulation where the<br />

body pushes the energy level up to produce<br />

a climax. Leadership that guides the<br />

group toward an explosive moment. It is<br />

the body’s decision as to which curve of<br />

energetic development is produced. The<br />

body is in full control and simultaneously<br />

in an explosive state. The others follow<br />

the body. This increase ends in a collective<br />

final point. A closure. A discharge<br />

followed by silence.<br />

digitally reproduced and<br />

organic sounds.<br />

Insistent and uncanny.<br />

Intimacy and show.<br />

Tenderness and brutality.<br />

Noise. Deep bass tones.<br />

Interruption and Eruption.<br />


I know when it starts<br />

but I don’t know when<br />

it ends. An interregnum.<br />

A past event disappears<br />

with a new one not yet<br />

in sight. It is the space<br />

between events in relation<br />

to time. A space for<br />

decision-making.<br />

Un silencio. Pero no el silencio.<br />

Silence. A collective silence is a moment<br />

like a crossroad, and you don‘t know<br />

where you are going or who is going next.<br />

This moment is full of tension and suspense.<br />

It gives space for a decision-making<br />

process.<br />

Falseta<br />

Reconnection. A space for a softer, more<br />

permeable body, moving without resistance<br />

or fight. Here, the body can give<br />

attention to detail and subtlety. It is a<br />

sensitive and fragile body.<br />

Gap.<br />

Interregnum.<br />

Vibration and feedback.<br />

Dreamlike state.<br />

Juxtaposition. Distortion.<br />

The unknown.<br />

Escobilla<br />

Ecstasy. Increase. Deceleration. Interruption.<br />

It is an ecstatic part, where the<br />

body is in full control of the situation and<br />

plays with its own power. It is primarily<br />

a rhythmical part, involving a power play<br />

between devotion and restraint. Energy<br />

is released and gained through suspension,<br />

outburst and physical force.<br />

Salida<br />

Resolution. A collective closure. This<br />

part often celebrates life in a joyful, sometimes<br />

even grotesque way. It can also be<br />

a return to a state of calm connection,<br />

and togetherness after having shared a<br />

collective journey.<br />

Materials as collaborators.<br />

Metall. Foam. Cloth.<br />

Moving image.<br />

Trigger.<br />

Dionysian creature.<br />

Repetition. Duration.<br />

Physical power. Exhaustion.<br />

Grotesque. Dynamic. Rhythmic clashes.<br />

Feeding and receiving.<br />

Polymetric rhythm.<br />


Body is rhythmically tuned. Rhythm is the main element from which<br />

Heartbeat. everything is built. Emotional and energetic<br />

Craniosacral.<br />

states emerge from an autopoietic<br />

Trust your tides. feedback loop through rhythm, movement,<br />

music or voice.<br />

Breath in. Silence. Breath out.<br />

Language. Loop.<br />

Power relationships between body,<br />

voice and instrument shift within different<br />

parts of the structure and create<br />

different spaces for decision-making.<br />

Collaboration.<br />

Visual, sonoric, emotional, rational<br />

exploration<br />

The in-between space of movement and<br />

tonality, the silence, the stillness, are the<br />

predominant factors that grant tension<br />

and organize the structure.<br />

Score & Improvisation.<br />

Dichotomy.<br />

of the body<br />

with the body<br />

by the body.<br />

Flamenco is based on a dialectic of the<br />

Apollonian and Dionysian principle: a<br />

principle of beauty, joy and fragility on<br />

one side and that of catharsis, rawness,<br />

pain and ugliness on the other. These are<br />

juxtapositioned in rhythm, physicalities<br />

and the structure itself. Always looking<br />

Intimacy and exposure.<br />

Dramatic and formalistic.<br />

for the unexpected. Different states of<br />

tension and release, energy build-up, interruption<br />

and eruption that create and<br />

increase energetic states.<br />

A hybrid between installation and<br />

black box.<br />

Translation into space.<br />

Relation to space.<br />

Spatial transfer.<br />

How can I translate the original dramaturgical<br />

structure or its fragments -<br />

the roles that body, sound and rhythm<br />

play in it - into my own world? What<br />

happens if I change and deconstruct<br />

these fragments? How can I use these<br />

strategies and methods in other fields of<br />

A Ritual. performance art?<br />


Position means the fact<br />

of being able to define<br />

and position something,<br />

to bring it into relational<br />

order. Order stands in<br />

contrast to ambivalence,<br />

ambiguity or something<br />

indefinable. The relation<br />

is the field of tension.<br />

‘Everything in the world has its own<br />

spirit which can be released by setting<br />

it into vibration.’<br />

Oscar Fishinger<br />


KUBA<br />





a process where two<br />

or more people work<br />

together to achieve a<br />

shared goal.<br />

DIARY<br />

an object containing inscriptions<br />

of memories.<br />

There was a ritual in my primary school involving diaries that children gave to<br />

each other, where they could do whatever they wanted on one of the pages. It<br />

was a space to consciously focus on the other person and your relationship with<br />

them, and you had to find a way to express that in the form of text, drawing, or<br />

manipulation of the surface of the paper. This creative outburst was also framed<br />

as a collection of similar entries from other people, and it automatically became<br />

a collective gift as everyone ended up with a book filled with pages inscribed with<br />

the memories of all their classmates.<br />

My first tattoo is an intimate duet ritual that I began developing<br />

in 2016 in my gallery, Oficyna. It emerged out of the feeling of strange loneliness<br />

caused by spending short periods of time with a lot of different people. I was<br />

looking for new ways of relating to the people who were close to me. Tattooing<br />

is by its nature a collaborative and creative process. I started inviting my friends<br />

and people who inspire me to consider the surface of my skin as a canvas for their<br />

creative input. In exchange, I teach them how to make a tattoo. The process usually<br />

enables me to create a space for an intimate conversation. With almost one hundred<br />

people I talked about this ritual through the lens of empathy, trust, fear, faith,<br />

spirituality, creativity, culture, language, permanence, death, prayer, meditation,<br />

improvisation, body, touch, dance, poetry, art, drawing, memory, friendship, diary,<br />

collection, archive, symbol, semiotics, representation, reincarnation, pain, torture,<br />

penetration, masochism, sin, dreams, magic, borders, and many others.<br />

The drawings inscribe traces of moments in time and space where<br />

the meetings took place. They often reflect something about the person who made<br />

it, their image of me, or an idea that resonated between us. Most of the people try<br />

to make their first tattoo meaningful. When I look at my tattoos they recall the<br />

specific memories and stories behind them.<br />

If a person that I invite has already done some tattoos in the past,<br />

we try to figure out a way to make the action a new experience for both of us. In<br />

this way I have received tattoos made with a foot, a left hand, blindfolded, using<br />

a drone and a spear.<br />

Drawing is an interesting exercise because it teaches you something<br />

about the thing you draw. You have to look at your subject in a different way. You<br />

can draw what you see if you are observing light, shapes, and colors. You can draw<br />

from your emotions if you focus on how you feel and try to put it on paper. You<br />

can draw from your memories - your home, your grandma, your favorite cartoon.<br />

You can draw from your imagination if you close your eyes, silence your mind<br />

and let the images appear.<br />

From some of the participants in My First Tattoo I have collected<br />

choreography, dance moves and positions that I’m trying to embody which are now the<br />

material for my movement research. In an attempt to stage this ritual as a Solo/Dance/<br />

Authorship graduation performance I will try to perform this eclectic dance.<br />


List of collaborators:<br />

Adrian Kolarczyk<br />

Adrianna Orłowska<br />

Akemi Nagao<br />

Aleksander Błażkiewicz<br />

Aleksandra Kołodziej<br />

Amin Lahrichi<br />

Ana Lessing Menjibar<br />

Anastazja Pataridze<br />

Andrew Champlin<br />

Andrzej Pakuła<br />

Anni Taskua<br />

Bartosz Zaskórski<br />

Bernardo Chatillon<br />

Borys Wrzeszcz<br />

Christoph Thun<br />

Claire Scarlet<br />

Claudia Grande<br />

Claudius Hausl<br />

Dawid Misiorny<br />

Diego Agullo<br />

Egon Fietke<br />

Eloy Arribas<br />

Evgenia Chetvertkova<br />

Ewelina Cichocka<br />

Floris de Groot<br />

Frédéric Gies<br />

Freya Edmondes<br />

Garazi Peio<br />

George Upton<br />

Gosia Bartosik<br />

Iman Deeper<br />

Irmina Rusicka<br />

Izabella Gustowska<br />

Jakub Bolewski<br />

Jakub Gliński<br />

Jakub Jasiukiewicz<br />

Jan Piechota<br />

Jason Corff<br />

Jean Steeg<br />

Jędrzej Suchy<br />

Jianan Qu<br />

Joanna Filipiak<br />

John Klein<br />

Judith Förster<br />

Karol Komorowski<br />

Katarzyna Borelowska<br />

Kelly Dochy<br />

Kike Garcia<br />

Kiril Kogan<br />

Lidia Gąszewska<br />

Lucas Jezak<br />

Łukasz Richter<br />

Maciej Klim<br />

Maciej Rudzin<br />

Maciej Thiem<br />

Marek Rachwalik<br />

Mariana Vieira<br />

Mario Gomez<br />

Marko Markvic<br />

Mateusz Urban<br />

Michał Knychaus<br />

Michiyasu Furutani<br />

Mikołaj Szymkowiak<br />

Ni’Ja Whitson<br />

Nicola van Straaten<br />

Noriaki,<br />

Oteth Slayer<br />

Partyk Wejnert<br />

Paulina Bill Jaksim<br />

Paweł Mikołajczyk<br />

Piotr Kurka<br />

Raman Tratsiuk<br />

Rhyannon Styles<br />

Robert Łuksza<br />

Sara Abed<br />

Sonia Dubois,<br />

Stachu Szumski<br />

Thomas Scheele<br />

Ula Lucińska<br />

Ula Szkudlarek<br />

Wojtek Didkowski<br />

Żaneta Masiak<br />

Zuza Koszuta<br />

GAME<br />

a form of structuring an<br />

activity by specifying<br />

the rules, roles, available<br />

objects, and space.<br />


organizing a platform<br />

with the possibility of<br />

inviting others.<br />

TRUST<br />

readiness to rely on<br />

other people.<br />


MINNA<br />


Self<br />

consciousness<br />

dialogue<br />

fiction<br />

optimization<br />

perception<br />

performance<br />

promotion<br />

reflection<br />

CODE<br />

an enclosed system<br />

that has its own logic<br />

and follows a set of<br />

rules, impossible to<br />

access from outside<br />

without understanding<br />

the parameters,<br />

can also be used as a<br />

strategy to generate<br />

material or as a tool for<br />

decision-making.<br />



autobiographical<br />

material that is treated<br />

through a process<br />

of distancing (e.g.<br />

using an algorithm),<br />

or claiming found<br />

text as a biographical<br />

material, can also apply<br />

to self-dialogue with an<br />

alter ego.<br />

During <strong>SODA</strong> I have moved through identity politics, crashed into questions of<br />

agency, thought of self as material for performance by reflecting on psychological<br />

theories and finally arrived to consider different articulations of self in the body.<br />

Simultaneously, I find myself moving about in the world in the age of surveillance<br />

capitalism and heightened self performance with an uncanny feeling of what it<br />

means to be a human. How do different technologies infiltrate my body? What<br />

kind of knowledge am I able to produce within this discourse by looking for information<br />

in the body?<br />

We long to both cling to and escape our bodies, we want to use technologies while<br />

we rail against its misuse, but bodies must be the starting point for any discussion<br />

of technology. They shape-shift and dance into other forms with technologies, but<br />

remain our refer to the world. For now. (Parker-Starbuck 2014: 93)<br />

I grew interested in articulations, echoes of characters or alter<br />

egos, inscribed in my body. I wanted to know how I could access them on stage.<br />

My body contains potential for numerous second selves that can be invoked and<br />

activated through different means and technologies. How do these articulations<br />

(mediated, synthetic, theatrical, fictional) of the self or the body form, fall apart<br />

and merge with each other? How can moving between them create an experience<br />

or notion of authenticity or artificiality?<br />

I wanted to gain insight into the mechanics of authenticity and<br />

artificiality in relation to representations of the self. For me, the question of second<br />

selves does not stop on stage. As new technologies provide spaces to fabricate new<br />

formulations of self, what then is considered artificial and what is authentic? I<br />

wanted to approach this question with a hypothesis: What if something artificial<br />

could produce authenticity and vice versa?<br />

I first started working with generating text through an algorithm<br />

using old personal written conversations as a source material in order to create<br />

fictional autobiographical material. Something that sounded and looked familiar<br />


Cut yourself an analog filter today!<br />


SCALE<br />

temperatures of<br />

recognition relating to<br />

sense-making and nonsense,<br />

presence and<br />

absence, authenticity<br />

and artificiality, familiar<br />

and alien, a performative<br />

rendition loosely<br />

referring to the concept<br />

of uncanny valley.<br />

STATE<br />

qualities and modes<br />

of presence in the<br />

body evoking different<br />

articulations of the self<br />

by using performative<br />

technologies, connects<br />

to questions and experiences<br />

of autonomy<br />

and agency, whose<br />

body is it?<br />


ut that was not, exactly. By receiving this data, I saw patterns, a network or a<br />

library of my subconscious, just differently organized. The multitude of versions<br />

had different temperatures depending on how well they managed to mimic the<br />

original source. This brought me to questions of sense-making, as in, where and<br />

when does sense-making happen? How do we move from nonsense to something<br />

that we recognize?<br />

“Recognition” seems to me to be a much deeper element of theatrical performance<br />

than that [the structural turning point of drama]: even in the most non-narrative,<br />

post-dramatic performance, the communication between audience and performer<br />

relies on the mutual recognition of readable human action. (Dorsen, n.d.)<br />

Secondly, how does sense-making manifest in the modes or quality<br />

of presence in the body? I wanted to bring a living body to the equation. I have built<br />

internal strategies that keep me busy and connect me with my body. Blinking was<br />

one way to hijack an involuntary action. Blinking synchronizes with the breath<br />

and activates the parasympathetic nervous system. However, the question for me<br />

is: What kind of presence does it produce on stage? How can a seemingly easy<br />

task fade out the persona and make space for the body itself? Are there different<br />

temperatures for presence?<br />

Quite early in the process, I noticed the materials were neither<br />

obstacles to authenticity on stage nor revelators of it. All of the materials had a<br />

potential to move anywhere on the scale between familiar and alien. I have started<br />

to work with a dramaturgical principle to move on this scale: In and out of qualities<br />

that might produce notions and experiences of authenticity or artificiality. Whether<br />

it is in the level of the material itself or in the delivery of it, I am interested in the<br />

ambiguous in-between, liminal space of those experiences where we do not yet<br />

quite recognize where we are being taken.<br />

Maybe we could question whether the juxtaposition between<br />

authenticity and artificiality is even useful. Maybe it is not a catastrophe if we<br />

discover machine-like qualities and even the pure fiction about ourselves and<br />

accept that we are all somewhat an artificial mix. What if it has something to do<br />

with freedom that we become more aware of our own algorithms, our behavioral<br />

patterns? Or if we know what systems are at play in ourselves? To become aware<br />

of our situatedness and overcome it?<br />

In search of the authentic self, I would like to quote Arno Böhler<br />

who quoted Judith Butler and Jacques Derrida by saying that “self is a quotation”<br />

(Böhler, 2019). I am becoming me through the encounters I have. This also includes<br />

the thought that the other, instead of being outside of the self, is incorporated in<br />

the self. In itself, it is a process of unfolding and in-folding.<br />

The more dreadfully disquieting thing is not the other or an alien; it is, rather,<br />

yourself in oldest familiarity with the other, for example, it could be the Double<br />

in which you recognize yourself outside of yourself. (Ronell, 1989: 69)<br />


moving between two<br />

ends of a dichotomy in<br />

order to create ambiguity,<br />

focusing on the<br />

in-between space as<br />

a potentiality, working<br />

with blending qualities<br />

together in order to<br />

research their relation.<br />

Bibliography:<br />

Etcetera, (n.d.). Algorithm,<br />

composition and<br />

metaphor (interview with<br />

Annie Dorsen). Retrieved<br />

September 13, 2019<br />

from https://e-tcetera.<br />

be/algorithm-composition-and-metaphor/<br />

Parker-Starbuck,<br />

Jennifer (2014). Cyborg<br />

Theatre - Corporeal/<br />

Technological Intersections<br />

in Multimedia Performance,<br />

UK: Palgrave<br />

Macmillan.<br />

Ronell, Avital (1989). The<br />

Telephone Book: Technology,<br />

Schizophrenia,<br />

Electric Speech. Lincoln:<br />

University of Nebraska<br />

Press.<br />

Illustrations © Cedric Flazinski<br />



STYLES<br />


I<br />

listen,<br />

give permission.<br />

Embrace silence<br />

absorb<br />

wave<br />

undulate, create states.<br />

Drop in, fall out, shake it all about.<br />

Hum<br />

rattle<br />

fold.<br />

Sounds like<br />

I’m out of tune, or is that time? Please don’t turn it up, it Hz this frequency of<br />

mine.<br />

I’m<br />

hanging on a single string, a wire, a thread,<br />

I’m improvising again,<br />

it fills me with<br />

dread.<br />

Dive towards what you don’t know,<br />

ride the acoustic swell.<br />

A<br />

composition emerges that is neither here or there, a fragment of an experience<br />

that we all just shared. I’m looping the loop - number 49, trying to remember<br />

my last line.<br />

I<br />

arrive by listening to my internal drive.<br />

A beat<br />

A breath<br />

A pirouette.<br />

Linger with one finger pressed against a rosewood neck.<br />

Traverse spatial boundaries,<br />

move up a fret.<br />

Sound is my stage,<br />

my intention is set.<br />

I’m sure I will lose it. I can’t find the step.<br />

Relax<br />

don’t fight it,<br />

penetrate the cracks.<br />

Scratch below the surface,<br />

feed the feedback.<br />



The presence of silence<br />

within a performance is<br />

a recurring entry point,<br />

moving the physical<br />

body towards its next<br />

expression.<br />

STATES<br />

A multi-dimensional<br />

experience which is an<br />

immersive, transitional<br />

phenomenon,<br />

locating performer and<br />

spectator beyond the<br />

parameters of spatial<br />

boundaries.<br />


(IMPROV)<br />

A medium of performance<br />

that is dependent<br />

on accessing an<br />

internal landscape to<br />

find ways of achieving<br />

readiness, where both<br />

body and mind work<br />

collaboratively to instigate<br />

the next moves.<br />


is invisible to the naked<br />

eye. It surrounds all<br />

living beings and feeds<br />

energy into the soul<br />

from which all human<br />

beings unconsciously<br />

benefit.<br />


fr<br />

model of guitar that was produced in Japan in the late 1960s. Its distinctive features include a narrow neck, short scale and light body, making it ideal for the beginner’s market. In the UK it retailed for £40 and was considered a cheap alternative to other guitar manufactures like Fender and Gibson. I bought mine<br />

aThe Satellite 65/T is<br />

ficult to create a quality sound without running it through several effects (FX) pedals. But, based solely on its pristine condition and vintage appeal, I was willing to take the risk. I fi ind it interesting then, that in 2019, with risk being a key element in my practice, that the Satellite 65/T is at the centre of my research, as a companion and a collaborator.<br />

om the Cash Converters in Hackney, East London in 2014. I can’t remember exactly how much I paid for it, but I do remember haggling. I suspect it was under £50. If truth be told, at the time this was an unnecessary purchase, especially since a quick internet search informed me that these guitars were unreliable live, and that it was di<br />

Photos © Evgenia Chetvertkova<br />


A<br />

CONVER-<br />

SATION.<br />

Berlin, September 2019<br />

Kuba Borkowicz,<br />

Bernardo Chatillon,<br />

Jason Corff,<br />

Jorge De Hoyos,<br />

Ana Lessing Menjibar,<br />

Minna Partanen<br />

and Rhyannon Styles<br />

with Sandra Noeth<br />

Sandra Noeth (SN) We are sitting together, preparing this publication,<br />

and actually writing, framing and researching have been a continuous<br />

element throughout the studies. I am curious to know where they sit within your<br />

artistic practices?<br />

Ana Lessing Menjibar (ALM) When starting to think about the<br />

publication, I came to realize the different states involved in writing: it is a kind of<br />

transcription of what is happening in the body into words, that then again influences<br />

what happens performatively later. Somehow this publication is a performance<br />

from the past, the presence and the future. I really like how writing actually became<br />

a part of a process of awareness, a dialogue between thought and body.<br />

Bernardo Chatillon (BC) When reflecting on this, there is a difference<br />

between tools that we use for certain things, like a screwdriver or a hammer.<br />

Tools that execute a precise and practical function, and tools in the context of<br />

artistic work that have a completely different meaning. For example, my question<br />

is, how can I be writing with the same bodily presence that I am applying when<br />

I am researching in the studio or when I am improvising? How can I capture the<br />

velocity of my associations? One way is to think and speak at the same time, and<br />

like now, using my arms, making gestures. I think this brings thoughts to the fore<br />

that are maybe hidden, it’s a somatic way of producing writing.<br />

Rhyannon Styles (RS) This makes me think about the tools I use. I<br />

didn’t have a physical practice for a very long time, and recently this shifted due to<br />

the frame of <strong>SODA</strong>. It’s an interesting exercise to write about a specific idea, several<br />

times on different occasions. I have noticed that the state that I am in, in terms of<br />

how I feel or what I just experienced, and also my position in space, and the kind<br />

of tools that I am using for writing also influence the text. You can see what is going<br />

on between these instances when you address the same idea in variations.<br />

Jason Corff (JC) I think writing is almost a centring way to put my<br />

ideas into a different mode. When ideas are generated through movement, this<br />

prompts me to identify in a specific way what it is that I am doing. However, the<br />

writing can exist in its own space, and I can see where connections continue, even<br />

if I didn’t sense them in the beginning, so the writing is a kind of evidence.<br />


Minna Partanen (MP) In general, we talk a lot about reframing in<br />

the program, and writing is a very powerful tool for this. I think about how many<br />

times I wrote about the same thing over these two years, it’s quite a few... When I<br />

read my past texts, I am actually saying the same but there are these nuances that<br />

are all the time becoming more and more detailed and I am understanding why<br />

am I choosing this word over that word. I like that I become more specific and<br />

more careful every time I try. I guess that’s how all of the artistic research should<br />

be, but with the words, the result stays.<br />

SN Writing seems to be many things: a way of looking back but also<br />

opening up in a very physical, almost performative sense.<br />

MP But also, I found it a relief that it is a part of the knowledge production,<br />

that I can call part of my artistic research. To realise that the writing is an<br />

extension of my body - I feel like it gives liberty. I can treat things by different methods.<br />

ALM When you, Sandra, introduced writing as a physical act, it<br />

changed my relation to writing a lot. This idea to open my senses in the moment<br />

much more and somehow stop to produce this continuous censoring. To make<br />

writing itself more like a sensory experience. But writing is also a practice. If<br />

you go to the studio and you move, you are not going to use all the movement in<br />

your performance, but you create a vocabulary. So, writing is a physical exercise<br />

and you are not going to use every single word, but in the moment, you generate<br />

material, it becomes dense, exact.<br />

JDH Maybe what’s been nicest when there’s been deadlines of<br />

either the essays or text for publicity, because then all the writing or all the thinking<br />

has to somehow get formed into a digestible format. I appreciate that there’s a<br />

specific form, a specific way to give a quick hello to people out in the world.<br />

RS There’s so much also about finding your voice. I suppose, because<br />

I’ve got previous experience being a writer, I know what my voice is when<br />

I’m writing a magazine article for example. The time at <strong>SODA</strong> has also been about<br />

finding a different voice to articulate my practice. That’s a very new thing to be able<br />

to reflect, analyse and talk about. It’s like a muscle you have to keep training.<br />

Kuba Borkowicz (KB) You’re creating a body.<br />

SN You are all bringing different disciplines and backgrounds into<br />

the program: sound, visual arts, curating, dancing, choreography but also meditation,<br />

tattooing, healing, flamenco, geography, maths... I could go on. What are the specific<br />

challenges that this might create in your own work?<br />

Jorge De Hoyos (JDH) I studied cultural anthropology and I was<br />

always very interested in referencing: where did a thought or an influence come<br />

from, who said what? And this is an endless work of contextualising. At the same<br />

time, being a freelance performer, dancer and choreographer, there are so many<br />


A<br />

CONVER-<br />

SATION.<br />

influences that make up the hybrid of my practice. It’s really an art of framing,<br />

of what I highlight: my meditation practice? My yoga practice? It’s a challenge to<br />

be specific.<br />

MP I immediately start to see it more through collaboration, that’s<br />

where clashes most easily show. If I think about working processes, maybe you<br />

are collaborating with someone who works with other materials that simply take<br />

time to develop. Whereas when I look for information and make decisions in<br />

my body, they can react to changes quite rapidly. Or if it comes to programming<br />

digital interfaces, a lot of hours of work can go into something and you might<br />

need to know in advance certain parameters and not only become aware of them<br />

during the process. I think that’s where the transdisciplinary work sometimes<br />

gets complicated.<br />

JC In addition to that, it’s also this idea of distancing that comes<br />

in if you have different disciplines that influence the work. For instance, some of<br />

the things I focus on seem very unrelated to each other. For example, if you’re<br />

looking at the intersection of cartography and choreography and at the same<br />

time thinking about predictive technologies like calculus and four-dimensional<br />

geometry, the challenge that I continue to navigate through is looking at multiple<br />

approaches to space, to place or time, even if they aren’t initially related to each<br />

other. It’s about finding the distance between them so that suddenly something<br />

comes into clarity. Then of course the challenge is, is it just clear to me, or how<br />

to find that proper amount of exposure to also make it clear for someone looking<br />

from a different perspective. How do you articulate that distancing that becomes<br />

more pronounced in collaboration, to somebody who is working in a different<br />

discipline altogether?<br />

ALM This brings a tension. Having had a background for a long<br />

time in flamenco, there is a negotiation between an embodied, kind of unconscious<br />

knowledge, and the wish to decompose this embodied knowledge, to understand<br />

what it is, to become aware of the body and the movement and of my artistic<br />

language. This tension is beautiful and at the same time it can feel like a conflict<br />

for myself.<br />

SN Is this tension also about the claims that come with different<br />

practices, claims related to a specific knowledge?<br />

KB Yes, definitely. This experience of clashing my practice in the<br />

context of academic research was concentrated on the question of how to make<br />

my practice accessible for other people and actually interesting to watch or to<br />

even engage with it. Working with meditation or tattooing as a performance made<br />

me look at these activities from many different perspectives. To decompose and<br />

find the specific things that makes this interesting for me and to somehow try to<br />

share them.<br />


RS It’s about making the personal public. Because not all of us<br />

makers and artists choose to use our personal identity or personal interest in our<br />

work. But for me, that’s always been something I’ve wanted to do. Take my guitar<br />

practice for example, it has never really had a platform in the public before, so<br />

it’s really interesting for me to explore that, to be able to see its potential as a kind<br />

of artistic future for myself.<br />

MP In the beginning of the course, I was really busy with the question<br />

of what does the facilitator-me and the artist-me have to do with each other.<br />

I feel as soon as I let go of these definitions, the embodied knowledge inscribed in<br />

me gets to come out. As long as I don’t problematize it too much in my head, they<br />

actually work quite well together.<br />

SN In the <strong>SODA</strong> program, there is this insistence on your own artistic<br />

practices but there is also a collective, collaborative environment. I am interested in<br />

how you perceive this relation.<br />

JDH My research is dance improvisation where I’m trying to allow<br />

myself to move with the feeling or the intuition first, rather than having prethoughts<br />

or a decision made already. I’m trying to put the analyser brain way in<br />

the back. This is very much sort of me dancing and my collaborators are there<br />

to support me. It’s also very collective though, because I’m trying to get my ego<br />

mind out of the way, to allow the expression to just come through and consenting<br />

to serve myself but also everybody else, so it’s an interesting shared space.<br />

BC This relates to the ideas of solo, dance and authorship; ideas<br />

that are all the time shifting. The one that strikes me most in the title of the program<br />

is ‘authorship.’ However, it changes completely with the word ‘dance’ that comes<br />

in between ‘solo’ and ‘authorship’. This movement in between these two words is<br />

opening and shaping things in an invisible way: it makes it impossible to think of<br />

dance as something individual.<br />

ALM Solo, for me, is also something which doesn’t necessarily<br />

exist. What I’m most interested in, is the communication, my movement and what<br />

I want to share, shaping, moulding the space between the audience and me.<br />

KB From my experience I would like to challenge the idea of solo,<br />

because during the process of going through the program, there is a lot of attention<br />

put on being open and sharing and trying out and having feedback. Indeed, it is a<br />

very collaborative process of refining your stuff, going back to it, but also bouncing<br />

it off different people and our group internally.<br />

RS And even last semester you were collaborating with plants…<br />

KB Yes, that was an experiment of reaching out to non-human<br />

beings. My question was if these are actually collaborators as well, if solo can be<br />

translated to plants, to materials, to objects, to space.<br />

RS I had that exact experience in the studio the other day with my<br />


A<br />

CONVER-<br />

SATION.<br />

mentor and my new sound collaborator, who has made a sound board for me. It’s a<br />

whole new piece of technology to get my head around, but at the same time that piece<br />

of technology is my new collaborator. It has its own methodology that I can’t control.<br />

JC Also, from experiencing the program, there is this underlying<br />

idea of a body in space, but that body is never alone. And I think that’s been a<br />

valuable lesson along the way that there are many things that start to influence<br />

what a body can do: whether it be collaborators, mentors, opinions that we refine<br />

or find reflected in things that we read, or just casual conversations.<br />

SN You also decided to collaborate outside of the program as the<br />

Mineralwasser collective that you founded. Could you talk more about it?<br />

RS The first thing we did as Mineralwasser was the sangria bar<br />

that we set up during the presentations of the 2nd year students, right?<br />

JDH I think there has been an interest and a willingness from all<br />

of us to somehow work together, to not be in isolation, to build a support network.<br />

Hosting a bar was a good way because we could have fun together, get to know<br />

each other, not just artistically, but also administratively and logistically and performatively,<br />

in an easy setting. The collective is maybe also a response to the big<br />

word solo and I was excited to grow deeper this time, really wanting to invest in a<br />

group especially having been a freelancer, where the longest I might be with any<br />

group of people might be three months or the time of a project.<br />

BC What is nice is that there is a balance with my own authorship,<br />

my own research. I have room to be independent, to call my own shots, to direct<br />

my space. But, I’m not alone, and we can give each other feedback from a very<br />

different perspective. That’s quite a rich environment.<br />

KB I believe it really arrived from an urge for a deeper connection.<br />

I think we all sort of realised that it’s a group of interesting people who share some<br />

common interests, all using the body as an artistic material. I think we say that we<br />

could learn from each other.<br />

MP I’ve been thinking about what you, Bernardo, said in one of<br />

our last meetings, when you talked about the collective being as strategy, a strategy<br />

for us to stay together, to invest in each other, to commit.<br />

BC Yes, to fight this rivalry between us that could have been there.<br />

JC And, I think it’s an exploration of performativity, but also an<br />

exploration of connectivity. And going deeper into that, really understanding what<br />

the collective might mean for a group of people, that might, on the surface, not<br />

easily identify commonalities, but rather find them through experience and time.<br />

And then articulate them in whatever way they choose.<br />


SN In many of your writings and statements the word responsibility<br />

occurs. When we speak about working in a group and individually, how does this<br />

idea find articulation?<br />

JDH I’m thinking about an intensive with Arno Böhler and a<br />

working definition of the capacity to be in the body, but at the same time always<br />

be outside of it. Because we’re always connected, and open to the world, to the<br />

environment. In response, entangled with each other. So, responsiveness, being<br />

able to respond, being able to be in the world.<br />

BC Collectivity already brings a lot of invisible responsibilities:<br />

not only the responsibility of being a father or a mother or a teacher in relation to<br />

my work, but also the responsibility to think about deadlines, an audience, about<br />

how they read and can enter my work, about why am I doing this. So, I believe my<br />

responsibility is connected with this deep emotional level of sharing something<br />

and with working in the direction of something that is calling me. Calling into place<br />

a collective already creates a sense of responsibility, as well. We are all going to<br />

care about each other.<br />

KB Yes, definitely. In my experience responsibility is totally different<br />

when it comes to solo or collective work. In my solo practice, I am mostly focused<br />

on experimenting and trying out new things. If in the end it doesn’t really work,<br />

it’s fine, I learn something from it. But with the collective I feel the responsibility<br />

differently. If we try to work together and something goes wrong, then actually<br />

our relations and the integrity of the group are in danger.<br />

ALM I have a very concrete example from flamenco for this experience.<br />

In flamenco, if I’m not responsible for the whole team, it doesn’t work. But<br />

also, if I don’t take the moment for my solo inside the collective, there is no flamenco.<br />

So that reminds me of what you, Sandra, were talking about, using dramaturgy as<br />

a mobile, holding different elements and ideas together. It’s the same, each part of<br />

our collective is a part of the whole dramaturgy, if one changes, the whole system<br />

needs to change. Somehow these two words – responsibility and ‘dis-responsibility’<br />

- are deeply connected, and what is important is the space between them.<br />

JC I think this creative term, ‘dis-responsibility’ got developed<br />

when it came to decision making in our work. Focusing, understanding and contextualizing<br />

what our decisions are. But also to create an awareness of what we<br />

are choosing against, when we are choosing to not contextualise, and be able to<br />

identify those moments.<br />

MP Of course the word responsibility can come with heaviness,<br />

as well, with having to carry out a project, and be the one that stands behind it.<br />

But at the same time, I try to use it as a strategy, to think what my responsibility<br />

is to the work. To think that the work is bigger than me, and actually that my task<br />

is to show up and do it.<br />


BIO-<br />


KUBA BORKOWICZ is a performer, visual artist and curator working between Berlin and Poznan. In 2017,<br />

he graduated from the University of Fine Arts in Poznan (MA Visual Communication). Borkowicz’s research<br />

framework investigates the affinity between play and ritual through compositional strategies utilized by religion<br />

to design a set of practices to connect, worship, and learn from plants. Across different media such as<br />

performance, painting, installations, video, photography and tattoos, his artistic practice focuses on meditative<br />

qualities of the creative process and their potential to create a shared experience. As a curator, Borkowicz<br />

develops platforms for collaboration between human and non-human beings. In 2014 he established the 9/10<br />

Gallery in Poznan with a program focusing on relational pairings of artists.<br />

BERNARDO CHATILLON was born in Rebelva, Portugal under Aquarius. He trained at Centro Em Movimento<br />

(CEM) and completed a degree in theatre at the Higher School of Theatre and Cinema (ESTC) in Lisbon. From<br />

2012-15, he was a company member of the National Theater D. Maria II in Lisbon. Based in Berlin since 2016,<br />

Chatillon has collaborated as a performing artist on multiple projects with Stephanie Maher at Ponderosa<br />

Movement & Discovery. In his own work, Chatillon uses elements of real-time composition to question creative<br />

agency as he navigates the link between belief systems and free association.<br />

JASON CORFF relocated to Berlin from New York City where he has been a dancer with a+s works as well<br />

as a frequent collaborator with videographer Effy Grey and multimedia design house Paradox Vested Relics.<br />

His solo practice is focused on the pairing of cartographic principles with choreography to recontextualize<br />

the body in space. Trained in dance at Oberlin College, Corff was a company member of 277 Dance Project<br />

and worked with Laboratory Theater, theARTcorps, Gushue Moving Arts, and Craig Hoke Zarah. He has performed<br />

at various locations in New York City including Triskelion Arts, Dixon Place, The Performing Garage,<br />

and Bryant Park. One of his dance works for film premiered at Mills Gallery at the Boston Center for the Arts<br />

in Massachusetts, and several others can be found online.<br />

JORGE DE HOYOS is a U.S. American dancer and choreographer based in Berlin since 2012. He studied Cultural<br />

Anthropology and Theater Arts at the University of California at Santa Cruz. Collectivity and community<br />

have been a major aspect of his artistic and spiritual development throughout his trajectory: organizing DIY<br />

public art actions, hosting sexual-spiritual and performance events in homes and non-institutional spaces,<br />

and being a core member of performance projects like Turbulence (a dance about the economy) with Keith<br />

Hennessy and Tanzkongress 2019. As a dancer/performer he has regularly collaborated with Meg Stuart/<br />

Damaged Goods and Sara Shelton Mann, among others. He has presented his own work in San Francisco and<br />

Berlin, and published articles and interviews with In Dance by Dancers’ Group (2008-2014), Dance Theatre<br />

Journal (2011) and Contemporary HUM (2018). www.jorgedehoyos.com<br />

ANA LESSING MENJIBAR is a German-Spanish visual artist, performer and dancer born and based in<br />

Berlin. Her work is an investigation and conceptual interpretation of contemporary flamenco, stretching the<br />

genre and movement vocabulary to locate transformative potential within the context of performance. The<br />

body is also addressed as a unique source of sound and rhythm, extending the ability of sound to act as a<br />

performer in space. Lessing Menjibar’s interdisciplinary practice explores notions of the performative though<br />

media such as photography, video, and installation. She has performed or exhibited in Berlin at Sophiensaele,<br />

Komische Oper Berlin, tanzhaus nrw, NGORONGORO, NGBK, and the Kammermusiksaal der Berliner Philharmonie.<br />

She also has appeared at Villa Romana (Italy), Bienal - Miradas de Mujeres (Spain), and 29. Festival<br />

Les Instants Vidéo (France and Argentina). Lessing Menjibar received her Diplom in Visual Communication at<br />

Universität der Künste Berlin, and also works as an art director and publisher in the field of culture and arts.<br />

www.analessingmenjibar.com<br />

MINNA PARTANEN is a performer, director, and drama educator hailing from Finland and holds a BA in<br />

Performing Arts from Helsinki Metropolia. She has a background in devised work, socially engaged art, and<br />

applied theatre in non-traditional performance spaces and has worked as an applied theatre facilitator in<br />

contexts such as social work, innovation and organizational development. She was part of a research group<br />


for arts-based initiatives in development processes at Lappeenranta-Lahti University of Technology LUT.<br />

Currently, Partanen works as a Drama Educator at English Theatre Berlin | International Performing Arts<br />

Center leading the theatre’s partnership with Theater und Schule (TUSCH). She has taught Drama in English<br />

extensively in schools around Berlin and co-founded International People’s Theatre Berlin, an applied theatre<br />

project. Partanen premiered her solo work Next Time in Berlin in 2015 at Expat Expo festival in collaboration<br />

with Joseph Wegmann.<br />

RHYANNON STYLES is a British-born performer, writer and public speaker. In her solo work, Styles uses<br />

resonance and timbre through spatial explorations to create sonic compositions and improvised choreography.<br />

She has performed at various locations in London including Barbican Centre, Tate, V&A Museum and Soho<br />

Theatre. Styles has presented work at both the Edinburgh and Adelaide Fringe Festivals in addition to the<br />

Guggenheim Museum in New York City. In June 2017, Styles released her memoir The New Girl - A Trans Girl Tells<br />

It like It Is through Headline Publishing. As a journalist she regularly contributes to UK publications, and was a<br />

columnist for ELLE magazine from 2015-2017. Her next book Help! I’m Addicted - A Trans Girl’s Self-Discovery<br />

& Recovery will be published in 2021. As a public speaker, Styles uses her media profile to raise awareness for<br />

transgender issues across a variety of platforms. In 2016 she appeared in The Body Shop’s Stand Up Stand<br />

Out campaign, and will feature in the upcoming campaign Work It for Sainsbury’s TU clothing brand. www.<br />

rhyannonstyles.com<br />


Publisher: HZT Hochschulübergreifendes Zentrum Tanz Berlin (HZT), Uferstraße 23, 13357 Berlin / Concept<br />

and Authors: Kuba Borkowicz, Bernardo Chatillon, Jason Corff, Jorge De Hoyos, Ana Lessing Menjibar, Minna<br />

Partanen, Rhyannon Styles and Sandra Noeth / Texts and pictures: all rights with the authors if not otherwise<br />

mentioned / Graphic Design: milchhof.net / Interview transcription: Zoe Martin / Printing Company: Laserline<br />

©HZT Berlin 2019 / Hochschulübergreifendes Zentrum Tanz Berlin / www.hzt-berlin.de / office@hzt-berlin.de<br />

MA <strong>SODA</strong> Staff: Prof. Rhys Martin, Prof. Dr. Sandra Noeth, Sophia New<br />

Web links are provided for informational purposes only.<br />

HZT bears no responsibility for the accuracy, legality or content of external sites or for that of subsequent links.<br />

The HZT Berlin is the joint responsibility of the Berlin University of the Arts (UdK) and the Hochschule für Schauspielkunst<br />

Ernst Busch (HfS) in cooperation with TanzRaumBerlin, a network of the professional dance scene.





JASON<br />

CORFF 6<br />

JORGE<br />

DE HOYOS 10<br />


MENJIBAR 14<br />

KUBA<br />

BORKOWICZ 18<br />

MINNA<br />

PARTANEN 22<br />


STYLES 26<br />



IMPRINT U3<br />




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