Reflections from Berlin’s Visiting Artist Programme
Maria Solei Järvet, one of the participants in the VAP encounter hosted by Tanz im August (Berlin), gives us a glimpse into the experience…
The Visiting Artist Programme offered an immersive introduction to Berlin’s contemporary dance scene. From the first day, I was struck by the richness of the schedule, combining performances, a workshop, and venue visits.
What resonated with me most about this carefully woven programme was how it revealed the true honest ecosystem of the festival: how venues operate, how artistic ideas are represented and how the chosen artist works for this year are highlighting collaboration that crosses borders and disciplines. For me, as someone beginning to create more of my own work now, it was invaluable to see the interplay of artistic process, cultural politics as well as the troubles that come with it, and the logistical realities of bringing work to audiences in Berlin. Even though the time was short, the connections I formed with fellow visiting artists and venue teams have already been valuable, and I’m certain they will continue to be. I look forward to returning to these people, and following their artistic journeys. It truly gave me a glimpse of hope in this crazy world we live in.
The festival began for me on Wednesday with “Trailer Park” by Moritz Ostruschnjak, a piece that transformed internet sourced gestures into intense stage choreography, showing how digital culture reshapes our bodies and how weird but impressive connections emerge. Thursday began with a welcome and sharing session among fellow artists from the programme, where we exchanged insights about our practices and reflected on the current state of the dance scene in our respective countries. In the evening, Lia Rodrigues’s “Borda” unfolded, revealing borders and thresholds not as divisions, but as fertile in-between spaces brimming with possibility.
On Friday, while some opted to attend Étape Danse in Potsdam, a European residency platform where new works-in-progress by Dalila Belaza, Stefania Tansini, and Yotam Peled & Nitzan Moshe were shared, I chose instead to join J Neve Harrington’s workshop, which left a strong and lasting impression on me and later echoed in her performance “Screensaver Series: Sleeper Softwares”, an installation of symmetry, senses, movement, and care that felt like inhabiting a living carefully human knitted screensaver. The same evening, I also experienced Jeremy Nedd’s “From Rock to Rock… aka How Magnolia Was Taken for Granite” which deconstructed the Milly Rock to reveal its poetry and ask urgent questions about cultural ownership and profit.
Saturday led us deeper into Berlin’s independent scene. A visit to Tanzfabrik & Uferstudios, a collaborative hub where research and creation merge, and then to Sophiensæle, with its strong and interesting history and tradition of supporting new independent voices. Performances that day included “Fandango Reloaded” by Inka Romaní, reviving the forgotten Fandango de Ayora by merging folk traditions with breaking, house, and contemporary dance, and “Some Thing Folk” by Cullberg in collaboration with Ligia Lewis, which imagined with an amazing visual scenography belonging beyond national borders while navigating alienation and utopian longing. The final day concluded with the festival’s closing party at WAU, a vibrant community gathering at the heart of Tanz im August
Workshop Reflection
On a gloomy Berlin morning, I walked with two fellow artists from the Visiting Artist Programme to J Neve Harrington’s workshop with no expectations. I had seen a photo of the performance and read its description, yet the experience far exceeded my anticipation. From the start, I appreciated the focus and intention to share behind-the-scenes elements of the piece and felt grateful to glimpse the dance scientist behind it. Knowing I would see the performance later that evening made the experience even richer.
Arriving at St. Elizabeth Church, I was struck by the space: modest, humble, yet sacred, filled with large, colourful, textured pillows. My first instinct was to take off my shoes and settle onto a pillow, and I was not alone, as people around me joined in. A subtle soundtrack filled the room, and I experimented with different pillows, each with its own personality. Lying there, I felt calm, present and curious. The metal structures in the space felt alive, symmetrical yet organic, as if the room itself were moving.
We gathered in a circle to introduce ourselves. Some had seen the show the previous night, others had encountered it in past years, and many of us were excited for the evening performance. Neve’s soft, attentive guidance offered direction while giving us choices: step out to observe, explore a puzzle on the table, or participate fully. I appreciated these options, they reminded me how even a short, careful engagement can shift one’s experience entirely. Watching others navigate the practice, I noticed the beauty of listening, noticing, and choosing what serves one the best rather than following what might be correct or proper.
The first exercise we explored with pillows. Questions arose naturally: Can I rest here? Should I try something new? The dialogue between body, pillow, floor and gravity shaped a unique landscape. I was surprised by how the line between shaping the pillows and being shaped by them blurred. Slowly opening our eyes, we noticed visual information, shared the space with others, and became increasingly aware of touch, weight and subtle feedback. This part felt sacred: a reminder of the importance of revisiting rest – passive or active.
Next, we moved to drawing. A bag of colourful markers and sheets of paper awaited us, and I paused, wondering when I last allowed myself the spontaneous joy of drawing? Neve guided us in symmetrical drawing, using both hands simultaneously with different colours. Picture drawing with two hands at once: one colour arcs out from the left top point, the other answers from the right, and together they close into a circle like two separate impulses weaving a single shape. We shared in a group that some felt shy at first, but gradually playfulness took over, creating creatures I had never imagined, exploring mirrored letters, and breaking linear habits. Symmetry can be everywhere! Yet we almost never pause to notice it when it reveals itself. Here, it became a liberation, not a prison of perfection as in my early ballet training, but a compass pointing toward new doors. The very limits of the task opened secret corridors in my movement language, revealing possibilities I didn’t know were there.
We then applied symmetry to body and space, guided by imagery of air, land and sea: for example, sliding fingers along thighs to knees (land), tracing symmetrical waves on the floor (sea), and drawing above and in the space (air). Later, pairing with others, we explored symmetrical movement together. There was an open invitation to listen, offer and respond. One person sat ahead, their back turned while the other stayed close behind. My partner and I experimented with weight sharing and contact, supporting and gently challenging one another, while remaining present and curious. This process reminded me how connection can grow organically when given trust, space, and playful structure.
By the time the workshop concluded, I felt calm, rested, yet surprisingly awake. Experiencing the Screensaver Series performance later that evening was mesmerising as my body recognised the movement and wished to join in – the workshop enriching the experience immeasurably.