Contrasts and Inspiration – An Artist Reflection
Text by Ugnė Irena Laurinavičiūtė
I arrived in Lublin with a bit of a rush and a bit of a blush – straight from an overnight bus, slightly dizzy but curious. My first encounter was, fittingly, with a Lithuanian artist, Greta Grinevičiūtė. I confidently entered her workshop room, ready to greet my VAP group, only to realise after a few minutes that I had joined the wrong crowd entirely. It was an appropriately chaotic start to what became a rather colourful experience.
I’ll admit, when I first heard ‘Lublin’, I thought I was being invited to Ljubljana (geography was actually my strong suit in school, I swear). The confusion cleared quickly when I remembered that Lublin is the city where Poland and Lithuania once signed the union that joined our nations. That historical echo made the trip feel strangely significant – like a small full-circle moment in the most unexpected way.
The festival – Międzynarodowe Spotkania Teatrów Tańca, which literally translates to “International Dance Theatre Meetings” – offered an insight into the Polish contemporary dance scene and its technicalities, peculiarities and warmth. The programme was international, yet it carried those unmistakable Central (or Eastern?) European nuances that I both recognised and weirdly appreciated. A lot of people from the region have grown to despise the term ‘Eastern European’ – What does it even mean? Is it post-soviet mentality? Aesthetic traces of communism? Or a DIY spirit where you make something out of nothing?
What stood out to me was that mix of idealism and pragmatism, and the sense of community that forms precisely because resources are limited. No tea, no shade – that’s just the reality.
I saw six performances in three days, ranging from the wonderfully absurd to the deeply moving. Some works were confusing, others hilariously self-serious, but all of them contributed to a sense of shared artistic ground across Europe, a reminder of how much we have in common, and how much we still don’t understand about each other.
The VAP group itself was small but diverse – artists from Poland, Ukraine, North Macedonia and Lithuania (me!). It was refreshing to share perspectives with others who understand the peculiar reality of working as independent artists in this part of Europe. We also met festival organisers and visited possible residency spaces in Lublin: one cosy and slightly rough around the edges, another sleek and shiny, tucked away in a quiet residential area. Both, in their own way, reflected the contrasts of the local cultural landscape.
The pitching session was another highlight, a moment to share our artistic interests, practise talking about our work, and listen to what others are exploring. It reminded me that these encounters are less about immediate results and more about nurturing curiosity, honesty and long-term dialogue.
Overall, my experience in Lublin was full of contrasts: historical and contemporary, polished and raw, planned and improvised. Maybe that’s precisely what made it so real. I left with a few new contacts, a few good laughs, and a renewed sense that artistic exchange doesn’t always have to be grand to be meaningful. Sometimes, it’s enough to just show up, listen and find inspiration in unexpected places.