Tag: art

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Cathy Waller

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We sat down with Cathy Waller to talk about Cathy Waller Company’s new triptych of live dance, film and visual art, You & Us that asks timely and urgent questions about invisibility, identity and what it truly means to be seen.

You & Us tours to Winchester (24 March), Bradford (10 April), Ipswich (17 April), Liverpool (24 April) London (7 May), and Banbury (13 May).

Tickets are available at www.cathywaller.com/you-and-us 

What inspired you to create You & Us as a triptych blending live dance, film and visual art within Cathy Waller Company?

It was two things really, the first being the artistic challenge. I wanted to step beyond my usual ways of creating dance for stage or outdoor audiences and push myself into something a bit unknown. The idea of building a triptych felt both exciting and daunting, but it felt natural that this work needed to be experienced in multiple ways. 

The second was the story behind the work. I wanted to explore different visual forms so the ideas could reach more people and allow more audiences to see themselves reflected in it. Bringing together dance, film and photography felt like a way to open doors between art forms, inviting photography audiences into dance, and dance audiences into film and visual art. Seeing people’s reactions to seeing dance for the first time has been so joyous. 

How did drawing on the lived experiences of more than 400 collaborators shape the emotional core of You & Us?

Listening to people’s experiences of invisibility was incredibly powerful. The project began with my own reflections of being disabled and that largely being invisible to others, and how that shapes the way I move through the world day to day. But as I began speaking with friends and colleagues, I realised that the feeling of carrying something unseen reaches far beyond my own experience.

We connected with hundreds of adults and young people through workshops, conversations, surveys and informal chats – sometimes over coffee, sometimes across continents. What became clear very quickly was that almost everyone holds something hidden at times: whether it’s masking emotions, hiding parts of ourselves to feel safe, or simply carrying things others can’t see.

As a choreographer with a hidden disability, how does your personal perspective inform the themes of invisibility and identity in this work?

My perspective really sits at the root of the work. Many of the themes come from experiences I recognise – the feeling of being unseen, misunderstood or quietly judged, and the isolation that can sometimes follow. But there are also moments where invisibility can bring a kind of protection or choice, moments of joy and harmony, and that complexity felt important to explore too.

What stayed with me most during the process was how often people spoke about empathy. Again and again, the conversations circled back to the simple reminder that everyone is carrying something. If we could hold onto that – that sense of shared humanity – perhaps there would be less struggle and more understanding. The work has become a reflection of that, a reminder that we are often more alike than we realise.

What did filming You are also Us across National Trust sites in Dorset add to the sense of scale and visibility within the project?

Interestingly, the scale and beauty of the landscapes intensified the themes of invisibility and isolation within the film. Standing in these vast, open spaces makes you feel both connected to the world and incredibly small within it, which mirrored many of the emotions explored in the work.

Working with the National Trust was a real privilege. Their partnership allowed us access to extraordinary locations that brought the film to life in a way we could never have imagined otherwise. One moment I’ll always remember is watching fifteen dancers move together at sunrise near Old Harry Rocks, with the chalk cliffs and waves crashing below. It was breathtaking in all the ways imaginable. 

How does the collaboration with MOBO Award-winning musician Lewis Wright influence the physicality and rhythm of the live performance?

Music sits at the heart of how I create movement, so working with Lewis (who I met 20 years ago when we were both studying at TrinityLaban) has had a huge influence on the physical language of the piece. Almost everything I choreograph begins with the way music makes me feel – something instinctive and human that sparks the desire to move.

Lewis has created a score that carries the audience through a real emotional journey. At times it feels energetic and uplifting, making you want to leap into the movement alongside the dancers. In the next moment it can become incredibly intimate and reflective, drawing you inward. That emotional shift shapes the rhythm of the choreography and allows the dancers to move between strength, vulnerability, and connection. There’s an eclectic mix of driving rhythmic beats, harmonious voices and soothing strings. 

With Unseen | Unmasked by The1Harris completing the triptych, how important is it that audiences encounter multiple perspectives on neurodivergence and being truly seen?

It feels essential, because neurodivergence – like identity itself – is never one size fits all. Each person’s experience is different, and that diversity is something to celebrate rather than simplify. Too often we make assumptions about who someone is or how they experience the world, and those assumptions rarely tell the full story.

Having multiple voices within the triptych allows audiences to encounter different perspectives and ways of seeing. Harris’s work adds another layer to that conversation, expanding the dialogue around visibility, identity and understanding. Ultimately, I hope it encourages people to pause, listen more closely, and approach one another with a little more empathy. If we can remember that everyone is navigating something, perhaps we can be slower to judge and more open to allowing people – and ourselves – the space to simply be who we are.

Sam Butler (R)

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Sam Butler

Published on by Ke MengLeave a comment

Experimental cross-arts company Fevered Sleep will make its Barbican debut with public art intervention This Grief Thing. Entering a uniquely themed pop-up shop, visitors in the foyers will discover a space to connect, share loss and find hope while normalising conversations around grief. This event is part of Scene Change, a series of transformative performances and gatherings in unexpected places programmed by the Barbican. Runs Sun 15—Sat 21 Feb 2026 – for more info, please visit here.

How has the project evolved since 2018 in response to hundreds of meaningful encounters in different cities, and what can visitors in London expect from their experience?

Even before the project officially opened, its shape was formed by the many conversations we had with hundreds of participants who either gathered with us to talk about their experiences of grief and grieving, or encountered us in everyday spaces – market stalls, buses, the underground – and responded to the simple invitation to talk about grief. I’d say the project hasn’t changed as such, it retains its original form. We as the artist/shop keepers, however, can’t fail to evolve through the very personal interactions we have with each person who steps over the threshold.

This Grief Thing replaces performance with presence and conversation through gatherings and a pop-up shop. What did stepping into the role of shopkeepers reveal about how people want to encounter art around grief?

We started this project with the question, how can we encourage people to talk about, and normalise conversations around grief? Creating a dance piece or an installation, of course makes grief more visible to those happy or used to more formal spaces dedicated to art. A shop, on the other hand, is a space most people are comfortable to enter; a shopkeeper, and a ‘transaction’ in a shared public space is an everyday occurrence. We’re intentionally demystifying the notion of the artist, who is very often invisible or at a distance to audiences or spectators and placing ourselves right in the midst of it. Most visitors don’t know that we’re the artists, and we’re pretty certain that a visitor in a shopping centre in Middlesbrough for instance, really doesn’t care!

Grief can often be private or even stigmatsied in Western culture. What responsibility do artists and institutions have in creating shared rituals and spaces for something so universal?

 Western culture has done a pretty poor job at helping people to process and understand death and grief. Churches and other religious spaces are the main gatekeepers of grief, and for those who don’t relate to those kinds of practices, once a funeral is over, they are often cast adrift. As a company making lots of work with and for children, we feel strongly that including death and grief in educational settings would go a long way to tackling this stigma.  Artists will of course always make work around such a significant subject, but if we as a society can’t even talk to our children about it, how can we expect artists to even scratch the surface?

How do you hold ethical boundaries when working with such intimate and often raw experiences, while still keeping the space open and porous to the public?

This question comes up often, and I think it partly relates to the previous question. The stigma around grief, talking about death, revealing deep personal emotions holds lots of fear for us as a society. There’s a concern that giving permission for open conversation might lead to participants experiencing feelings that are somehow unmanageable, that harm may be caused to them or us or others. So, whilst pushing back at the question, we of course acknowledge our duty of care; we have distress protocols in place, and we have at hand organisations we can signpost people to if we feel they need further support. We’re also clear that in conversations, we can choose to talk from our very personal experiences of grief, or more in the abstract.

This year marks Fevered Sleep’s 30th anniversary. Looking back, what feels most essential about the way your broader practice has evolved, and how does This Grief Thing sit within that journey? Has listening to strangers talk about loss reshaped your understanding of care as an artist?

30 years of running a company has given us the confidence to say we feel happiest sitting in uncertainty! Some time ago we began to invite participants and collaborators in at the very inception of an idea, at that moment we’re stumbling around without an endpoint, at our most vulnerable. Our work is heavily reliant on the generosity of strangers willing to talk and think with us. This Grief Thing is a product of all the people who came to tell us how grief revealed itself to them, of their vulnerability over cups of tea, sat on chairs in circles, not asking our endpoint. Years back we placed care at the forefront of our practice, and we continue to be guided by the people who we encounter across our work. 

REVIEW: The Guardians of Living Matter

Published on by Lucy CLeave a comment

Rating: 5 out of 5.

An immersive exhibition that brings together art, climate thinking and technology in a way that feels calm, hopeful and interesting

Lowry’s Developed With programme supports another artist’s ambitious new work to develop The Guardians of Living Matter. Created by multidisciplinary artists John Paul Brown and Sophy King, the exhibition brings together art, climate research and technology in a way that feels open and easy to engage with. Giving an alternative to a lecture about the environment, it offers a clear and thoughtful idea of what the future might look like if we chose to work differently.

Set in the year 2076, The Guardians of Living Matter imagines a world where humans work alongside non human intelligence rather than trying to control it. The central anchor of the exhibition is a large scale living sculpture made from mycelium, housing artificial intelligence. A unique and attention grabbing piece that draws your eyes. It introduces the exhibition’s main ideas around connection, shared systems and repair, while also setting the tone for everything that follows.

One of the exhibition’s biggest strengths is how immersive it feels without ever becoming too much. The spaces reference imagined research labs and future environments, but they remain simple to move through. You are not pushed along a set route or expected to absorb everything at once. Instead, the experience feels flexible. You can stop to read, sit with certain ideas, or just move through the space and absorb the atmosphere. That freedom makes the exhibition feel like your own journey to experience it’s creators’ vision.

The use of mycelium works particularly well. Both visually and conceptually, it becomes a thread running through the exhibition. As underground fungal networks that support and connect plant life, mycelium acts as a clear metaphor for integrated systems of care. The idea is never over explained. It sits in the background, gently reinforcing the message that survival depends on cooperation.

Artificial intelligence is approached with the same level of care. Rather than leaning into fear based narratives, AI is presented as something that could support regeneration if developed responsibly. This feels refreshing, especially at a time when conversations around technology are often framed as environmentally disastrous. Here, AI exists alongside natural systems, suggesting balance rather than conflict.

Personally, I found The Guardians of Living Matter exciting and genuinely different from many other climate focused exhibitions. It avoids guilt and doom, choosing instead to optimistically focus on possibility. That shift matters. Rather than feeling drained or lectured, I left feeling energised and open to the ideas being explored. It is the kind of exhibition that sparks conversation without pushing a specific conclusion.

What works especially well is the balance between big ideas and warmth. Climate crisis, artificial intelligence and non human intelligence are complex subjects, but Brown and King present them in a way that feels clear and approachable. The result is an exhibition that feels thoughtful without being inaccessible, and hopeful without tipping into naivety.

The Guardians of Living Matter is a strong addition to Lowry’s contemporary programme. It is a reminder of how powerful art can be when it draws on research and imagination while staying grounded. For anyone interested in contemporary work, environmental thinking, or simply seeing something that feels fresh and considered, this exhibition is well worth spending time with. It offers a vision of the future that feels calm, collaborative and reassuring, which feels especially welcome right now.

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Himadri Madan

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We sat down for an exclusive interview with Himadri Madan, who is behind  The Gaze – you, me, us, and them, a new interactive installation-exhibition with live performances. This production will premiere at Glasgow Tramway on 22 Nov – tickets here.

By blending the traditional form Kathak, and contemporary movement, with spoken word, Himadri explores how, as an Indian woman and classical dancer, she collides and colludes with the structures of patriarchy, expectations of physical perfection, and the ideas of modesty and shame. 

What first inspired you to create The Gaze – you, me, us, and them, and how did the concept evolve from its initial idea to the final performance?
The Gaze – you, me, us and them actually grew out of an earlier project of mine called Inside/Out, which I developed during my MFA in Choreography at Trinity Laban in London. That work was about deconstructing the structural boundaries of Indian classical dance and looking at how I both collide and collude with them. At the time, I was engaging with Spivak’s theory of marginalisation, which really influenced how I approached the research.

Later, during the R&D phase of another project (Maiden | Mother | Whore), I came across Mahasweta Devi’s story Draupadi, and that was quite a turning point. It expanded the focus from just my experience as an Indian classical dancer to a broader reflection on what it means to live in a female body. I started thinking a lot about shame, how it’s used as a weapon and a form of control. And that exploration naturally evolved into The Gaze. The production looks at how all of us, in different ways, experience being under society’s gaze.

How does the interactive installation element influence the audience’s understanding of your lived experiences and the themes of the piece?
The interactive installation invites the audience to walk through a path with simple activities they can take part in. For me, it reflects how we all make choices to either conform or resist within a society. The path creates a small space that mirrors a social structure, where participants are given instructions that represent the pressures and expectations of belonging to that society.

The installation also weaves in elements from the life of Draupadi, the character through whose perspective the stories are told. It includes films that offer insight into her life and her experience of existing within the female body.

You draw inspiration from Mahasweta Devi’s Draupadi. How did this literary work inform your approach to representing violence, shame, and resistance through dance?
Mahashweta Devi’s Draupadi is a retelling of the story from Mahabharata set in a contemporary context. In the epics, Draupadi is saved from assault, but in this version she isn’t. Instead, she walks in front of her abusers, forcing them to confront what they’ve done and refusing to cover herself, which leaves them even more afraid.

That story began my exploration of how shame is weaponised, shame about our choices, our bodies, and our identities. It also deeply influenced the live performance element of the show, where I look at how our position in the world shapes the way we experience it.

Mahashweta Devi’s Draupadi is also a story of an indigenous woman in India and since I don’t have the lived experience of that community, I explore the themes from the text with being very careful that I don’t appropriate the experiences of a community that is not my lived experience.

As a performer trained in Bharatanatyam, Kathak, and Bollywood, how do you blend classical Indian movement vocabularies with contemporary and political storytelling?
Storytelling is a huge part of Indian classical dance, and these stories have always reflected the society and political landscape of their time. I use that element of the form to tell stories that resonate with our current political moment. I also merge it with pedestrian movement drawn from my contemporary choreography training, making the work more accessible to audiences who may not be familiar with Indian classical forms.

Collaboration seems integral to The Gaze. How did working with artists like Ankna Arockiam and Jaïrus Obayomi shape the emotional and narrative layers of the piece?
Working with both of them brought so much more depth to the performance. Ankna is the music composer and performer for the production, and Jaïrus is the dramaturg. Both deeply resonated with the themes of the project, and in their own practices they also engage critically with similar ideas.

Ankna’s contribution to the film soundscapes was essential. She blended elements of Indian classical music with spoken word and poetry to create layers of sound that reflect the project’s themes.

Both of them also collaborated closely with me on the script for the live performance. That section is primarily a spoken word performance. It’s a conversation between Draupadi, a dance artist and her friend, a musician played by Ankna, as they navigate the politics of what is seen on stage.

Our collaboration, which began in 2023, involved many rounds of writing and revising, ensuring we told these stories with both care and impact.

What conversations do you hope audiences will continue after experiencing The Gaze, and how do you envision its impact beyond the theatre space?
One of the important parts of the show is that the audience sees words written on my body. These words come from the things I’ve internalized over time, through my own experiences of colliding and sometimes colluding with the structures of society. The audience is also invited to share what they feel society has left on their own bodies and minds by writing it on a mirror in the installation.

For me, this is a way to open a conversation about how we see ourselves and each other in the world. How have we internalized shame, if we have? And how do our different positions in society shape the way we experience it?

Arches London Bridge Gianni Versace retrospective.

REVIEW: Gianni Versace Retrospective

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Rating: 5 out of 5.

This exhibition is bound to dazzle and inspire fashionistas and fashion outsiders alike.

On the 28th anniversary of his death, the Gianni Versace Retrospective exhibition at The Arches London Bridge opens its doors to the public. With over 450 original vintage pieces designed by Versace himself, this exhibition is bound to dazzle and inspire fashionistas and fashion outsiders alike.

Twenty eight years after his untimely death at the age of fifty, Gianni Versace’s brand is instantly recognisable even to those who don’t follow fashion closely. His bold, opulent designs—characterised by striking patterns, vibrant colours, and iconic motifs like the Medusa head—have become cultural symbols that transcend the runway. The Gianni Versace Retrospective exhibition offers a compelling and intimate exploration of the legendary designer’s life, revealing how his origins and diverse experiences shaped his groundbreaking work. From the moment visitors step into the exhibit, it’s clear that Versace’s roots in Reggio Calabria, a small Italian town with a rich cultural history, played a pivotal role in shaping his artistic vision.

The exhibition thoughtfully traces his early years, showcasing photographs, sketches, and personal artefacts that highlight how his humble beginnings instilled in him a fierce drive to push boundaries and express individuality through fashion. One of the most captivating aspects of the exhibition is how it illustrates Versace’s deep connection to the different places he called “home.” His Italian roots, combined with his subsequent experiences in Milan, the UK and ultimately America, infused his designs with a blend of traditional Italian craftsmanship and a cosmopolitan edge. The comprehensive showcase of his masterful designs from all stages of his career and his life, helps us board the train of his artistic journey and, as the exhibition progresses, we discover more and more aspects of Versace’s personality and creative hunger. Versace’s ability to draw from these varied “homes” allowed him to craft collections that were both rooted in Italian heritage and globally relevant, blending classic elegance with daring innovation. Beyond fashion, the exhibition sheds light on Versace’s involvement in other art forms, notably interior design. Visitors can admire sketches and photographs of his lavish interiors, which mirror his flair for dramatic, luxurious aesthetics. These spaces, like his clothing, reflect his love for boldness and excess, yet also demonstrate his meticulous attention to detail.                  

Perhaps most striking is the exhibition’s emphasis on Versace’s bravery as a designer. Constantly striving for more, Versace was unafraid to challenge conventions. Even after receiving world-wide recognition for his avant-garde designs, he was not afraid to strip it all back and experiment with simpler, more classical lines, particularly towards the end of the millennium. This courage to step away from his established style, speaks to his artistic integrity and desire to grow. It underscores a key aspect of his legacy: that true innovation requires risk-taking and a willingness to embrace change.

Overall, the exhibition offers a nuanced portrait of Gianni Versace—not just as a fashion icon, but as a multifaceted artist whose roots and experiences continually fuelled his inventive spirit. It’s a celebration of his fearless creativity and the enduring influence of his origins on his art, inspiring visitors to appreciate the depth and complexity behind the glamour.

FEATURE: OUTER WAVES, Liverpool

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OUTER WAVES is a new alternative arts festival designed to fill a cultural gap in Liverpool’s existing festival landscape. 

Inspired by the city’s rich underground music and art history, our aim is to celebrate and strengthen Liverpool’s grassroots creative communities while inviting international artists and audiences to participate.  By blending live music, visual arts, interactive performances, and educational initiatives, OUTER WAVES will not only provide an unforgettable festival experience but will also foster long-term cultural and community development. 

Debuting at Make Liverpool & Invisible Wind Factory, Outer Waves will transform Liverpool’s iconic North Docks into a two-day celebration of alternative music and experimental arts showcasing cutting-edge performances and innovative collaborations, offering audiences an immersive experience unlike anything in the city.

Line up so far:

ABSTRACT CONCRETE, AJA IRELAND, ALGERNON CORNELIUS, COUGHIN VICARS, EUROPEAN TAXIS, EX-EASTER ISLAND HEAD, FAT CONCUBINE, GONG, HYPERDAWN, LIMINAL PROJECT, MANDY, INDIANA, NIL00, SILVERWINGKILLER, SLY & THE FAMILY DRONE, SMOTE, THOSE HOLY and THRAA

OUTER WAVES runs 24th and 25th May. Tickets are available here.

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Kat Joyce

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Kat Joyce is the Co-Artistic Director of Tangled Feet, who are opening Rave New World in Luton on Friday 21st March.

Rave New World delves into the history of Luton’s rave culture and infamous Exodus Collective, and is performed outside a building that the collective occupied and later turned into a community centre. Through the story of two women from Luton from different generations, the story connects Luton’s history of activism, steeped in rave culture, with the local and global challenges faced by young people today.

What drew you to this particular story, and why do you think it resonates so strongly today?

There’s two parts to that answer. One is about why we are currently returning to rave and rave culture – and I think that’s because it came out of a really really tough political decade, very similar to the one we’ve been suffering under. People then needed a place to release and to connect, a place where the divisive politics of the time ceased to exist and where having a really really good time was also happening inside frameworks which were ground-up, fair, free, welcoming spaces. 

The Exodus story is next level – what they achieved together, how powerful they demonstrated people could be when they stood together – how they managed to broker peace through partying – it’s really really inspirational, a really important bit of British history that’s happened right here in Luton. It’s been a real honour to meet and get to know Glenn and his crew. 

Basically it all resonates today because people are desperately in need of the same things; community, solidarity, a feeling of people able to stand together in the face of a politically really frightening time – and to have a good time while they are doing it. 


The show brings together two generations—Zia, a social media star, and Clara, who lived through the 90s rave movement. How do their perspectives clash and connect, and what do they reveal about youth culture then and now?

That’s a great question. Zia’s character has been built from all the young, creative, talented people we’ve got to know in Luton over the past few years. Often they feel really disconnected, like it’s really hard to shape up the next few steps of their life and make things happen. Isolation – apart from through phones – is another big thing. Everyone feels like they are facing the world solo. And younger people also feel overwhelmed at the scale of the world’s problems, which they are getting streamed non-stop through their feeds but sometimes feel powerless to address. 

The challenge of joining that up to Clara’s generation is that it can feel like those older people just lived in a different time, and it’s really hard not to let nostalgia take over when we are talking about the great moments from the 80s and 90s. Clara’s generation lived phone-free; they lived in a very different reality. But unless each generation can pass the baton to the next, the job never gets done, and we all just end up feeling overwhelmed by the individual challenges we’re facing. Making the show and the feedback sessions with local people have led to such interesting and deep conversations about our generational responsibilities and how we honour our differences but also find the connections in order to find our collective power. 


The production is performed outside a building once occupied by the Exodus Collective. How does the site-specific setting influence the storytelling and the audience’s experience?

It’s huge! The writing is absolutely bedded into the site and its history – the site contains not just the Marsh Farm building, but the source of the River Lea which flows down to London, and Waulud’s bank which is an ancient site of importance. People have been meeting, connecting and partying here for hundreds and thousands of years and that’s a big part of the story. In terms of the audience’s experience, it’s really special to see a place that you are familiar with transformed into something epic and spectacular, to see big but recognisable stories come to life. Hopefully for our audience, this event will be something they always remember when they pass through Marsh Farm. 


A real London taxi transforms into an aerial rig, and the show blends dance, live music, and physical theatre. How did these elements come together, and what challenges did they present in staging Rave New World?

The challenges in this show – we are trying to make a HUGE thing happen on a relatively small budget – are also where the brilliant gifts are on this show. In proper homage to DIY culture we at Tangled Feet have looked around at what we have, what our collaborators have, and brought them together to create something special. The Pirates of the Caribina, our aerial partners, are bringing the taxi (and we’ve written the story to centre around a taxi driver!). The two other cars are from an old Tangled Feet show. The speaker stack is from a friend of Glenn’s. The incredible choreography and ensemble movement could only happen because of our collaborators Next Generation Youth Theatre. Everyone we’ve asked has showed up with a smile and wanted to get involved. I feel like this show is really special because it is built out of relationships and generosity – people knowing that when they come together, they can create something bigger than they can separately. 


The 90s free party movement was about more than just music—it was a form of resistance and collective action. Do you see echoes of that spirit in today’s youth activism, and what do you hope audiences take away from this connection?

Absolutely I do – today’s youth activism is hugely inspiring. It’s happening in a different way and with different focuses than the past, but today’s young activists have levels of awareness that are incredibly acute and powerful. We are living in truly terrifying times, both from a global political POV and in terms of the climate crisis. Creativity – making an alternative world visible and tangible together – is a huge part of how we both cope with that and counter it. What I hope that audiences take away from this is that when people join up, they are hugely powerful. You can’t stop the beats – while hearts are still beating people will be creating, dancing, resisting and turning the world upside down. 


The show ends with an after-party, making the audience an active part of the experience. How important was it to create a space where people don’t just watch but join the movement?

I mean you can’t make a show about epic parties and not invite the audience to be part of that! One of the things I love most about outdoor, physical theatre is that it can have the same effect as a big music set can – it’s like people’s bodies all join together somehow and we experience something collectively and on a really physical, subconscious level. The audience being there live and in the moment are a huge part of what makes the magic happen. We really need opportunities to be together in this way. I’m really hoping that we’ll finish the show and people will be in a place to stay, party, connect for a few more hours and really enjoy themselves. 

REVIEW: Soliloquio (I woke up and hit my head against the wall)

Published on by Antonia ConstantinLeave a comment

Rating: 5 out of 5.

“A raw confrontation with identity and power, Soliloquio blurs the line between art and protest, forcing the audience to grapple with the commodification of culture and the unresolved scars of colonialism.”

Is it possible to find a place for true artistic expression in a world dominated by economic interests and systemic power imbalances? Soliloquio by Tiziano Cruz does more than pose this question—it invites us to sit in the tension between personal suffering and the structures that profit from it in a provocative anti-art project. Tiziano Cruz demands we confront an uncomfortable truth: how modern society insists on consuming Indigenous identities as “regional,” “national,” or “exotic” commodities, rather than as authentic human experiences. Cruz, who comes from the Indigenous-rich region of Jujuy in Argentina, takes the stage in Soliloquio not to entertain but to disrupt. Drawing from letters he wrote to his mother during the pandemic, his monologue is a vivid rejection of the forces that demand he package his heritage for mass appeal.

Soliloquio opens with an outdoor procession, that prepares the audience to confront the very constructs they unknowingly uphold. Wearing just white pants and draped in an Inca Quipus shoulder piece—a symbol rich with Andean cultural memory—Cruz leads a procession alongside Salay Pasion, a Bolivian dance group He invites the audience to clap along, blending them into the performance as participants, unsuspectingly complicit in the system they are about to critique.

What starts as a celebration of culture, begins to shift when Cruz’s voice, amplified by a megaphone, cuts through the rhythm with statements of alienation and indignation.  This is not just a performance; it’s a visceral protest against the systems that, as Cruz suggests, lure in marginalized identities only to erase or commodify them. By starting outdoors, Cruz forces the audience into the public space of protest, dissolving the boundary between performer and observer, and challenging the traditional notion of spectatorship.

Inside the theatre, Cruz’s appearance shifts from leader to something like a priest performing a ritual of exorcism. His white clothing and simple staging enhance the sense of ceremony, casting him as both supplicant and shaman. As he stands before the audience, he asks, “What place does the art of the body have in a country where my body disappears in the face of the longing for a white society?” Cruz’s anti-art approach takes centre stage, tearing apart the classical notion of art as an embodiment of beauty and harmony. Rather than offering aesthetic comfort, he confronts the audience with the raw and unaddressed scars of colonialism, exposing the ways its legacy continues to shape and oppress marginalized cultures today. Cruz draws the audience toward redemption not through the art itself, but through the most primal of human connections—his bond with his mother, the letters he wrote to her, and the home he longs to return to. This return to one’s roots, or nostos (nostoi in Greek, meaning a return or homecoming), becomes the only true redemption.

As a piece of anti-art, Soliloquio is intentionally difficult to categorize or rate. How do we assign stars to a performance that denies traditional artistic conventions? Do we measure it against the standards of art, or judge it by the potency of its anti-art stance? Soliloquio resists these frameworks altogether, which is perhaps its ultimate success. Cruz’s work is raw, unsettling, and deeply impactful, leaving viewers with questions rather than answers—a testament to the resistance and resilience of his vision.

REVIEW: Beyond Van Gogh: The Immersive Experience

Published on by Katzy Robson2 Comments

Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

A deeply moving fusion of Van Gogh’s masterpieces with the innovative artistry of modern technology

Beyond Van Gogh: The Immersive Experience at the Scottish Event Campus (SEC) in Glasgow is a mesmerising fusion of art and technology, transporting visitors into the vibrant world of Vincent Van Gogh. This exhibition is divided into two main sections, each offering a unique perspective on Van Gogh’s masterpieces and his tumultuous life.

Upon entering the first section, visitors are greeted by projections of Van Gogh’s works, interspersed with poignant quotes from his letters. These projections zoom in on details of his paintings, highlighting intricate textures and brushstrokes. The experience begins with a sense of curiosity – “Is this it?” – but soon evolves into something deeply moving as you take in the surroundings. The voiceovers and quotes, paired with the stunning visuals, evoke a visceral response, almost as if you can smell the fresh paint on the canvas. It’s a powerful portrayal of Van Gogh’s essence, making you feel as if you are inside the paintings.

The main section of the exhibition is the projection room, where Van Gogh’s art is brought to life in a breathtaking 360-degree display. Although unfortunately the ceiling space was open and without projections. The moving images, combined with a hauntingly beautiful soundtrack, create an emotive atmosphere that envelops the entire room. Here, the technology truly shines, making the paintings flow and dance across the walls. The room feels alive with the collective emotions of everyone present, experiencing the art together in peaceful harmony. This communal aspect, where generations sit* together immersed in the same moment, adds significantly to the emotional impact. I write * sit, however many people were sitting on the floor (due to lack of seating) and laying on the floor to experience it from all angles.

Throughout the experience, there is a poignant sadness reflecting Van Gogh’s own life and struggles. The projections, voiceovers, and music convey his feelings of loneliness and his unfulfilled desire to connect with others, even fellow painters. It’s striking to think of how Van Gogh never knew the global impact his work would have. One can’t help but wonder how stunned he would be by this celebration of his life’s work, made possible through modern technology.

The sensory room feels like a box of emotion, crafted through the perfect synergy of art, music, and technology. The feeling in this space is palpable, as if the eyes of the paintings look right into your soul, reflecting back your own emotions. It’s a celebration of Van Gogh’s legacy, making one thankful and appreciative of the work he left behind.

Leaving the exhibition, there’s a dreamlike quality to the experience. Walking past those entering, still unaware of the transformative journey they are about to embark on, you carry a sense of peaceful quiet. The sky on the walk home even seems to mimic Van Gogh’s vibrant hues, bringing his paintings into the real world and reminding you of the reality he captured on canvas.

Beyond Van Gogh: The Immersive Experience in Glasgow is a beautiful fusion of past and present, proving that technology can indeed move you, much like traditional art. It’s a must-visit for art lovers and those looking to be moved by the sheer beauty and emotion of Van Gogh’s masterpieces brought to life.

In Conversation with: Adam Karim

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Artist Adam Karim discusses MANTELPEACE, a brand-new exhibition providing a fresh perspective on traditional masculinity at the Young Vic, created by Taking Part.

Adam Karim is a freelance theatre director and facilitator. His is the recipient of the JMK Award ’24, and was Resident Assistant Director  ’22-’23 at the Donmar Warehouse. He will direct  ‘Guards At The Taj’ at the Orange Tree Theatre this Autunm.

Tell us about MANTELPEACE and what can we expect?

Joy! Going into this project we immediately felt a heaviness around the topic of masculinity. We wanted to focus our efforts on the things we can celebrate. Which doesn’t mean ignoring the other stuff, it’s definitely present in the work, but why focus all our attention there? The exhibition itself is really varied- there’s music, art, film, written pieces, photography, and spaces for interaction. We do want the audience to leave feeling like they’ve participated and not just observed, maybe MANTELPEACE is a verb. 

MANTELPEACE celebrates the transition from boyhood to manhood and provides a fresh perspective on traditional masculinity. Do you believe, now more than ever, it’s important to explore young masculinity in a positive capacity? 

Where there’s life there’s hope. For example a common feeling from the men we’ve worked with over the last few months has been of pressure. The feeling of responsibility comes up so often, and for some it’s overwhelming. We could focus on that, and dive into the weight of all this expectation, or we can focus on the moments of release & joy that counter it. Which tells the same story, but identifies the hope. 

What inspired the creation of this exhibition? What drew you to the project?

 The opportunity for so much cross-artform collaboration excited me, but mainly the opportunity to work with our Learning Contributors, it’s the little moments of growth in individual sessions and cumulatively over the weeks that give me the most rewards.

MANTELPEACE is an exhibition from Taking Part, the Young Vic’s creative engagement department which provides free opportunities for young people, adults and schools in the local community. How important do you think it is to have projects like these?

They’re essential! Especially given the systemic removal of Art in schools. You’ll see no shortage of arts provision at Eton, that tells you something. Organisations like Young Vic are stepping up in incredible ways but we need lots, lots more support and lots, lots more of this work.  

Is there anything about MANTELPEACE that might surprise audiences?

Well, telling would ruin any surprises! Hopefully the work challenges assumptions and the way some of us see ourselves. Our gallery assistants are also the Young Curator’s and Consultants who helped shape the choices in the exhibition, so for audiences there’s also a chance to engage with the ideas behind the choices and chat to them. They’re lovely!

What do you hope audiences will take away from the exhibition?

I hope it widens perspectives and creates an openness. I hope people share while they’re here and leave a little lighter. 

What has been a highlight for you working of this project?

It’s tiny moments spread out across the weeks. Seeing the participant who wouldn’t share in week one offer something beautiful in week 5. The laughter, the vulnerability, it’s the accumulation of all these lovely moments of growth we all got to share. 

Canyousumupthe experience of working on MANTELPEACE in 5 words?

Nostalgic Joyful Optimistic Empathetic Journey 

MANTELPEACE is at the Young Vic until  20 July. Tickets are free and can be booked at https://www.youngvic.org/whats-on/mantelpeace.