In the first year of my renewed artistic practice, I had a powerful vision in which I saw a future version of myself collaborate with a big group of people to realise a major piece of protest art. The work was part of a bigger movement, and was situated in a specific place and time.  I had a strong sense that embodiment and empowerment were a crucial part of the piece, both in terms of the experience of the people taking part and in the striking visual outcome.  Operating somewhere on the edge between a massive act of resistance, a passionate longing for the otherwise and amplifying a shared love of the world. It was exhilarating and compelling, because it felt so near and concrete. Yet after it’s initial impact, I came to the baffling realisation that in fact I had no clue as to the what, when and why of any of it. No matter how hard I tried to focus on it, I couldn’t get a sense of what the work looked like, what it was addressing, nor who I was working with. Disappointed at first, I got excited about the idea that this was a seed for something yet to come and that my work and artistic process would lead me there in it’s own time. The vision has been travelling with me as one of many seeds and along the way. I have felt how it is nurtured while dormant, giving shape to an unknown path unfolding. 

Inspired by my collaboration with Flor I started to play with the idea of ​​developing an interactive/performative work that is partly created through the physical and/or emotional engagement of a larger group of people who interact with it. Building on my current practice in which body, place and material are interwoven with each other. The invitation to participate in the Utopia Art Politics sessions last June amplified the sense that many different seeds were coming together. It felt as if I was on the verge of birthing this new type of work. Yet as the event approached, my expectations and ambitions for the work also grew. At some point it became clear that there was no way for all these expectations to materialise within such a short amount of time. Artistic practice often is like dancing in the dark: between intuiting what can be, while coming to terms with what is, I try to attend to the unexpected.

The moment I was able to accept that the work was not there yet, it became possible to birth the piece I hadn’t seen coming.

On the 4th of July Marijke de Pous performed ‘Choreographies of (be)longing’ live at BAK Utrecht as part of the public event Dreaming in the Dark. The work was performed alongside the first 5 minutes of a beautiful and evocative live music set by Josie Chambers (vocals) and Noor Noor (music).