"The performance presents gentleness and vulnerability as a space for alternative possibilities."
Interview with Lorena Spindler about her piece "I'll be there for you (for me)".
Lorena Spindler is a multidisciplinary artist on the Brussels scene, drawing much of her inspiration from current sociological phenomena. I’ll be there for you (for me) is being presented this season at atelier210, in partnership with Varia. Interview by Sophie Thomine.
"Playfulness and humour are my favourite ways of communicating; I like it when we have a laugh"
Can you explain why you chose this title?
‘I’ll be there for you (for me)’ sums up the spirit of the show. It’s a playful way of expressing the desire to be there for someone else, provided that person is there for us... More broadly, the title refers to the show’s central question: the complexity of finding common ground when everything pushes us towards individualism.
Is your work a quest for gentleness and an ode to vulnerability in the face of the capitalist world we currently live in?
Ideally, yes; we would be in a world where coexistence worked differently. The show invites gentleness and vulnerability as a space of alternative possibility. Unfortunately, the show also takes into account current reality and its brutality. I also question the violence of care, the hyper-vulnerabilisation of the capitalist system, the reappropriation and instrumentalisation of empathy...
There’s also a lot of humour; you draw on the conventions of social media and certain video games that many of us use – is this an invitation to self-criticism?
Playfulness and humour are my favourite ways of communicating; I like it when we have fun, both the audience and the performers. The most mainstream virtual spaces belong to oppressive structures, and yet forms of resistance, communities and counter-cultures still manage to emerge within them. The show is constructed in the same way, from within the system, where we all are, in very different places depending on our situation in the world. We’ll see whether, collectively, we continue to be users or not.
What are your choreographic influences?
In terms of the stage space, I’m inspired by the mundane things I see around me in the city, such as the hostile architecture we live in, shopping centres, sports halls... and all the acts of resistance that infiltrate them, like a hopscotch court drawn in chalk on a pavement. Choreographically, I’m also quite influenced by photography, adverts and music videos that I grew up with.
"The whole process is based on listening and mutual understanding."
How do you translate our inner ambiguities and conflicts with the system we live in into the language of dance?
A movement imbued with a thought – like a surge of affection, fear or anger – is visible, I think. The dancers ‘perform’ their dance and address it to one another to tell a story. It is a search for connection, a fragile one, that passes through the body and also through the gaze. The whole piece works through mechanisms of listening and complicity. And then, narratively, they have creative and technical tools such as video, dialogue, set design and lighting to convey breaks in the narrative and drive the story forward.
Can you understand this show if you’re not on Instagram or TikTok?
I don’t think there’s any cause for concern on that front; I’m not a young person—I’m 30—and I use almost old-fashioned aesthetics from an internet and video culture that’s more about MSN, Skyblog and VHS. On the other hand, the show aims to overstimulate by giving too much information so that people come back (but that’s a marketing strategy).