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Refusals to say goodbye:
Mirror set-up 🌀
May 15th 21:00 @beyondtheblackbox.antwerpen @monty_antwerpen
With: @hheiichh @turtlemanproductions @peterisviksna @dekoenman @robbidoesart and Michael Scerbo
Edited by @dekoenman

A construction of mirrors explores our surroundings, its shifting reflections are captured on camera. As mirror and lens search and refract, our perception fragments and distorts. Mirror set-up explores the construction of our perception by observing observation itself, unfolding as a live montage of gaze and attention.

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Two months ago we traced the Sun in @monty_antwerpen. Against all odds, it remained mostly cloudy that day.
Our footage, combined with personal reflections regarding expectations, documentation, presence and visibility, were gathered in a video essay which will remain on view in the Monty café for the upcoming months.

Camera and edit by @peterisviksna
Thanks to @jana.jacuka and @veronika_abdul_visocka
With the support of Kamera Express

●

‘Conceptually, this project was always based on the transience of sunlight. The possibility that she could appear had been just as important as the possibility of her disappearance, or her refusal to appear at all. And here it was: her refusal to perform for me that day. It was a tough one to swallow. Unable to accept her true departure, we continued to trace her route. With squinting eyes, we observed her invisible presence as we debated her estimated arrival at the bar, pointing to the line on the floor she had supposedly just crossed.

Why was I so upset? Had I reduced her presence to merely her visibility? Had I become so attached to her light, so that I could trace her trajectory with my painter’s tape, write down the time, point to the different frames, and say, “Look! See how much she has moved! Watch this installation as proof of her trajectory, a visualization of our turning world.”

She did not care. She continued her path. Though invisible to us, she crawled in. She grazed across the right wall, over the white bricks and the warm-toned wood paneling, cutting through the metal shelf mounted on the wall. She touched the bar and crossed the line on the floor. Behind the empty sky, she kept moving at the same speed, neither slower nor faster.

Just as I had never been able to hold on to the Sun before, how she kept slipping away from me and the frame, I couldn’t hold on to her now. Only this time, there was no reassurance. No impressive line work that proved her visit. Just a few hastily drawn lines, coloured by the fear of ending up with nothing at all.
All the while, she was there, just as we kept turning.’

Two months ago we traced the Sun in @monty_antwerpen. Against all odds, it remained mostly cloudy that day.
Our footage, combined with personal reflections regarding expectations, documentation, presence and visibility, were gathered in a video essay which will remain on view in the Monty café for the upcoming months.

Camera and edit by @peterisviksna
Thanks to @jana.jacuka and @veronika_abdul_visocka
With the support of Kamera Express

●

‘Conceptually, this project was always based on the transience of sunlight. The possibility that she could appear had been just as important as the possibility of her disappearance, or her refusal to appear at all. And here it was: her refusal to perform for me that day. It was a tough one to swallow. Unable to accept her true departure, we continued to trace her route. With squinting eyes, we observed her invisible presence as we debated her estimated arrival at the bar, pointing to the line on the floor she had supposedly just crossed.

Why was I so upset? Had I reduced her presence to merely her visibility? Had I become so attached to her light, so that I could trace her trajectory with my painter’s tape, write down the time, point to the different frames, and say, “Look! See how much she has moved! Watch this installation as proof of her trajectory, a visualization of our turning world.”

She did not care. She continued her path. Though invisible to us, she crawled in. She grazed across the right wall, over the white bricks and the warm-toned wood paneling, cutting through the metal shelf mounted on the wall. She touched the bar and crossed the line on the floor. Behind the empty sky, she kept moving at the same speed, neither slower nor faster.

Just as I had never been able to hold on to the Sun before, how she kept slipping away from me and the frame, I couldn’t hold on to her now. Only this time, there was no reassurance. No impressive line work that proved her visit. Just a few hastily drawn lines, coloured by the fear of ending up with nothing at all.
All the while, she was there, just as we kept turning.’

Two months ago we traced the Sun in @monty_antwerpen. Against all odds, it remained mostly cloudy that day.
Our footage, combined with personal reflections regarding expectations, documentation, presence and visibility, were gathered in a video essay which will remain on view in the Monty café for the upcoming months.

Camera and edit by @peterisviksna
Thanks to @jana.jacuka and @veronika_abdul_visocka
With the support of Kamera Express

●

‘Conceptually, this project was always based on the transience of sunlight. The possibility that she could appear had been just as important as the possibility of her disappearance, or her refusal to appear at all. And here it was: her refusal to perform for me that day. It was a tough one to swallow. Unable to accept her true departure, we continued to trace her route. With squinting eyes, we observed her invisible presence as we debated her estimated arrival at the bar, pointing to the line on the floor she had supposedly just crossed.

Why was I so upset? Had I reduced her presence to merely her visibility? Had I become so attached to her light, so that I could trace her trajectory with my painter’s tape, write down the time, point to the different frames, and say, “Look! See how much she has moved! Watch this installation as proof of her trajectory, a visualization of our turning world.”

She did not care. She continued her path. Though invisible to us, she crawled in. She grazed across the right wall, over the white bricks and the warm-toned wood paneling, cutting through the metal shelf mounted on the wall. She touched the bar and crossed the line on the floor. Behind the empty sky, she kept moving at the same speed, neither slower nor faster.

Just as I had never been able to hold on to the Sun before, how she kept slipping away from me and the frame, I couldn’t hold on to her now. Only this time, there was no reassurance. No impressive line work that proved her visit. Just a few hastily drawn lines, coloured by the fear of ending up with nothing at all.
All the while, she was there, just as we kept turning.’

Two months ago we traced the Sun in @monty_antwerpen. Against all odds, it remained mostly cloudy that day.
Our footage, combined with personal reflections regarding expectations, documentation, presence and visibility, were gathered in a video essay which will remain on view in the Monty café for the upcoming months.

Camera and edit by @peterisviksna
Thanks to @jana.jacuka and @veronika_abdul_visocka
With the support of Kamera Express

●

‘Conceptually, this project was always based on the transience of sunlight. The possibility that she could appear had been just as important as the possibility of her disappearance, or her refusal to appear at all. And here it was: her refusal to perform for me that day. It was a tough one to swallow. Unable to accept her true departure, we continued to trace her route. With squinting eyes, we observed her invisible presence as we debated her estimated arrival at the bar, pointing to the line on the floor she had supposedly just crossed.

Why was I so upset? Had I reduced her presence to merely her visibility? Had I become so attached to her light, so that I could trace her trajectory with my painter’s tape, write down the time, point to the different frames, and say, “Look! See how much she has moved! Watch this installation as proof of her trajectory, a visualization of our turning world.”

She did not care. She continued her path. Though invisible to us, she crawled in. She grazed across the right wall, over the white bricks and the warm-toned wood paneling, cutting through the metal shelf mounted on the wall. She touched the bar and crossed the line on the floor. Behind the empty sky, she kept moving at the same speed, neither slower nor faster.

Just as I had never been able to hold on to the Sun before, how she kept slipping away from me and the frame, I couldn’t hold on to her now. Only this time, there was no reassurance. No impressive line work that proved her visit. Just a few hastily drawn lines, coloured by the fear of ending up with nothing at all.
All the while, she was there, just as we kept turning.’

Two months ago we traced the Sun in @monty_antwerpen. Against all odds, it remained mostly cloudy that day.
Our footage, combined with personal reflections regarding expectations, documentation, presence and visibility, were gathered in a video essay which will remain on view in the Monty café for the upcoming months.

Camera and edit by @peterisviksna
Thanks to @jana.jacuka and @veronika_abdul_visocka
With the support of Kamera Express

●

‘Conceptually, this project was always based on the transience of sunlight. The possibility that she could appear had been just as important as the possibility of her disappearance, or her refusal to appear at all. And here it was: her refusal to perform for me that day. It was a tough one to swallow. Unable to accept her true departure, we continued to trace her route. With squinting eyes, we observed her invisible presence as we debated her estimated arrival at the bar, pointing to the line on the floor she had supposedly just crossed.

Why was I so upset? Had I reduced her presence to merely her visibility? Had I become so attached to her light, so that I could trace her trajectory with my painter’s tape, write down the time, point to the different frames, and say, “Look! See how much she has moved! Watch this installation as proof of her trajectory, a visualization of our turning world.”

She did not care. She continued her path. Though invisible to us, she crawled in. She grazed across the right wall, over the white bricks and the warm-toned wood paneling, cutting through the metal shelf mounted on the wall. She touched the bar and crossed the line on the floor. Behind the empty sky, she kept moving at the same speed, neither slower nor faster.

Just as I had never been able to hold on to the Sun before, how she kept slipping away from me and the frame, I couldn’t hold on to her now. Only this time, there was no reassurance. No impressive line work that proved her visit. Just a few hastily drawn lines, coloured by the fear of ending up with nothing at all.
All the while, she was there, just as we kept turning.’

Two months ago we traced the Sun in @monty_antwerpen. Against all odds, it remained mostly cloudy that day.
Our footage, combined with personal reflections regarding expectations, documentation, presence and visibility, were gathered in a video essay which will remain on view in the Monty café for the upcoming months.

Camera and edit by @peterisviksna
Thanks to @jana.jacuka and @veronika_abdul_visocka
With the support of Kamera Express

●

‘Conceptually, this project was always based on the transience of sunlight. The possibility that she could appear had been just as important as the possibility of her disappearance, or her refusal to appear at all. And here it was: her refusal to perform for me that day. It was a tough one to swallow. Unable to accept her true departure, we continued to trace her route. With squinting eyes, we observed her invisible presence as we debated her estimated arrival at the bar, pointing to the line on the floor she had supposedly just crossed.

Why was I so upset? Had I reduced her presence to merely her visibility? Had I become so attached to her light, so that I could trace her trajectory with my painter’s tape, write down the time, point to the different frames, and say, “Look! See how much she has moved! Watch this installation as proof of her trajectory, a visualization of our turning world.”

She did not care. She continued her path. Though invisible to us, she crawled in. She grazed across the right wall, over the white bricks and the warm-toned wood paneling, cutting through the metal shelf mounted on the wall. She touched the bar and crossed the line on the floor. Behind the empty sky, she kept moving at the same speed, neither slower nor faster.

Just as I had never been able to hold on to the Sun before, how she kept slipping away from me and the frame, I couldn’t hold on to her now. Only this time, there was no reassurance. No impressive line work that proved her visit. Just a few hastily drawn lines, coloured by the fear of ending up with nothing at all.
All the while, she was there, just as we kept turning.’

Two months ago we traced the Sun in @monty_antwerpen. Against all odds, it remained mostly cloudy that day.
Our footage, combined with personal reflections regarding expectations, documentation, presence and visibility, were gathered in a video essay which will remain on view in the Monty café for the upcoming months.

Camera and edit by @peterisviksna
Thanks to @jana.jacuka and @veronika_abdul_visocka
With the support of Kamera Express

●

‘Conceptually, this project was always based on the transience of sunlight. The possibility that she could appear had been just as important as the possibility of her disappearance, or her refusal to appear at all. And here it was: her refusal to perform for me that day. It was a tough one to swallow. Unable to accept her true departure, we continued to trace her route. With squinting eyes, we observed her invisible presence as we debated her estimated arrival at the bar, pointing to the line on the floor she had supposedly just crossed.

Why was I so upset? Had I reduced her presence to merely her visibility? Had I become so attached to her light, so that I could trace her trajectory with my painter’s tape, write down the time, point to the different frames, and say, “Look! See how much she has moved! Watch this installation as proof of her trajectory, a visualization of our turning world.”

She did not care. She continued her path. Though invisible to us, she crawled in. She grazed across the right wall, over the white bricks and the warm-toned wood paneling, cutting through the metal shelf mounted on the wall. She touched the bar and crossed the line on the floor. Behind the empty sky, she kept moving at the same speed, neither slower nor faster.

Just as I had never been able to hold on to the Sun before, how she kept slipping away from me and the frame, I couldn’t hold on to her now. Only this time, there was no reassurance. No impressive line work that proved her visit. Just a few hastily drawn lines, coloured by the fear of ending up with nothing at all.
All the while, she was there, just as we kept turning.’

Two months ago we traced the Sun in @monty_antwerpen. Against all odds, it remained mostly cloudy that day.
Our footage, combined with personal reflections regarding expectations, documentation, presence and visibility, were gathered in a video essay which will remain on view in the Monty café for the upcoming months.

Camera and edit by @peterisviksna
Thanks to @jana.jacuka and @veronika_abdul_visocka
With the support of Kamera Express

●

‘Conceptually, this project was always based on the transience of sunlight. The possibility that she could appear had been just as important as the possibility of her disappearance, or her refusal to appear at all. And here it was: her refusal to perform for me that day. It was a tough one to swallow. Unable to accept her true departure, we continued to trace her route. With squinting eyes, we observed her invisible presence as we debated her estimated arrival at the bar, pointing to the line on the floor she had supposedly just crossed.

Why was I so upset? Had I reduced her presence to merely her visibility? Had I become so attached to her light, so that I could trace her trajectory with my painter’s tape, write down the time, point to the different frames, and say, “Look! See how much she has moved! Watch this installation as proof of her trajectory, a visualization of our turning world.”

She did not care. She continued her path. Though invisible to us, she crawled in. She grazed across the right wall, over the white bricks and the warm-toned wood paneling, cutting through the metal shelf mounted on the wall. She touched the bar and crossed the line on the floor. Behind the empty sky, she kept moving at the same speed, neither slower nor faster.

Just as I had never been able to hold on to the Sun before, how she kept slipping away from me and the frame, I couldn’t hold on to her now. Only this time, there was no reassurance. No impressive line work that proved her visit. Just a few hastily drawn lines, coloured by the fear of ending up with nothing at all.
All the while, she was there, just as we kept turning.’

Two months ago we traced the Sun in @monty_antwerpen. Against all odds, it remained mostly cloudy that day.

Our footage, combined with personal reflections regarding expectations, documentation, presence and visibility, were gathered in a video essay which will remain on view in the Monty café for the upcoming months.

Camera and edit by @peterisviksna
Thanks to @jana.jacuka and @veronika_abdul_visocka
With the support of Kamera Express
@monty_antwerpen

●

‘Over the past year, I’ve been obsessively observing the Sun. The first time was on April 5th, 2024, in a classroom at my master’s program in Amsterdam. We had just returned from a week-long residency in the north of the Netherlands, where we had spent our days in the cold, wet fields of the salt marsh. On that flat, briny terrain — between sea and land — the wind had free rein, and it was so grey that the sea and sky dissolved into one. Now, back in the city, the Sun paid us a surprise visit, proudly announcing the late arrival of long-awaited springtime. She was shining bright and we were locked inside. It almost felt like a joke.

After spending a week so close to nature, her entrance into the former Shell building that housed our school somehow felt like the closest we could ever come to her. Wanting to hold on to that moment, I began tracing her shape on the floor with painters tape. I aligned the tape with her light, framing her from corner to corner at the exact edge where her light was cut by the shadow cast by the window frames.

Before I could even complete a small section, the Sun had already slipped beyond the frame I had so carefully created. Not a single moment aligned, never fully 1:1. I was shocked by her incredible speed. Or perhaps not hers, but my own, on top of a spinning and circling Earth.

This slow yet visibly moving line became a record of my own movement. Me, the pen on the floor, the tables and chairs, the black woolen curtains, the field outside with trees and bikes and people and dogs running around, the water of the IJ separating us from the center, the train station across: we were all turning. The entire Earth was rotating before my very eyes.’

View from our home before renovations, Amsterdam Slotermeer

View from our home before renovations, Amsterdam Slotermeer

View from our home before renovations, Amsterdam Slotermeer

Coming up: Suntracing
Sept 25th or 26th, 14:00 till sunset
@monty_antwerpen

On the occasion of Monty’s 40th anniversary, we will trace the Sun in the Monty Café, following her path from afternoon entrance to evening exit. From 14:00 onwards, we will await her arrival.
Please note❗️whether this will take place on the 25th or the 26th will be decided on September 24th, in consultation with the Sun. Stay tuned to our channels for the latest updates.

—

‘The first time I traced the outlines of sunlight beaming through the windows of the respective building, the moment was short-lived. Within seconds, it disappeared, obscured by a passing cloud. When the sky cleared and offered us—the Sun and me—a bit more time together, I quickly realized its incredible speed. Or perhaps, my own, on top of a spinning and circling Earth. Before I could finish tracing even a small shape, the Sun had already slipped beyond the frame I had so carefully created. Not a single moment aligned, never fully 1:1.’

Suntracing is a site-responsive project unfolding through live performance, spatial installation and video documentation. As part of the series Refusals to say goodbye, Suntracing reflects on our fragile relationship with the fleeting nature of the present, where impermanence defines existence.

With: @peterisviksna @jana.jacuka and the Sun

Coming up: Suntracing
Sept 25th or 26th, 14:00 till sunset
@monty_antwerpen

On the occasion of Monty’s 40th anniversary, we will trace the Sun in the Monty Café, following her path from afternoon entrance to evening exit. From 14:00 onwards, we will await her arrival.
Please note❗️whether this will take place on the 25th or the 26th will be decided on September 24th, in consultation with the Sun. Stay tuned to our channels for the latest updates.

—

‘The first time I traced the outlines of sunlight beaming through the windows of the respective building, the moment was short-lived. Within seconds, it disappeared, obscured by a passing cloud. When the sky cleared and offered us—the Sun and me—a bit more time together, I quickly realized its incredible speed. Or perhaps, my own, on top of a spinning and circling Earth. Before I could finish tracing even a small shape, the Sun had already slipped beyond the frame I had so carefully created. Not a single moment aligned, never fully 1:1.’

Suntracing is a site-responsive project unfolding through live performance, spatial installation and video documentation. As part of the series Refusals to say goodbye, Suntracing reflects on our fragile relationship with the fleeting nature of the present, where impermanence defines existence.

With: @peterisviksna @jana.jacuka and the Sun

Feeling funky and melancholic with the start of this September while looking back at the chapter that closed.
Thank you @das.theatre
Thank you thank you thank you to the most amazing peers, tutors, staff, collaborators and advisors 💛

Feeling funky and melancholic with the start of this September while looking back at the chapter that closed.
Thank you @das.theatre
Thank you thank you thank you to the most amazing peers, tutors, staff, collaborators and advisors 💛

Feeling funky and melancholic with the start of this September while looking back at the chapter that closed.
Thank you @das.theatre
Thank you thank you thank you to the most amazing peers, tutors, staff, collaborators and advisors 💛

Feeling funky and melancholic with the start of this September while looking back at the chapter that closed.
Thank you @das.theatre
Thank you thank you thank you to the most amazing peers, tutors, staff, collaborators and advisors 💛

Feeling funky and melancholic with the start of this September while looking back at the chapter that closed.
Thank you @das.theatre
Thank you thank you thank you to the most amazing peers, tutors, staff, collaborators and advisors 💛

Feeling funky and melancholic with the start of this September while looking back at the chapter that closed.
Thank you @das.theatre
Thank you thank you thank you to the most amazing peers, tutors, staff, collaborators and advisors 💛

Feeling funky and melancholic with the start of this September while looking back at the chapter that closed.
Thank you @das.theatre
Thank you thank you thank you to the most amazing peers, tutors, staff, collaborators and advisors 💛

Feeling funky and melancholic with the start of this September while looking back at the chapter that closed.
Thank you @das.theatre
Thank you thank you thank you to the most amazing peers, tutors, staff, collaborators and advisors 💛

Feeling funky and melancholic with the start of this September while looking back at the chapter that closed.
Thank you @das.theatre
Thank you thank you thank you to the most amazing peers, tutors, staff, collaborators and advisors 💛

Feeling funky and melancholic with the start of this September while looking back at the chapter that closed.
Thank you @das.theatre
Thank you thank you thank you to the most amazing peers, tutors, staff, collaborators and advisors 💛

Feeling funky and melancholic with the start of this September while looking back at the chapter that closed.
Thank you @das.theatre
Thank you thank you thank you to the most amazing peers, tutors, staff, collaborators and advisors 💛

Feeling funky and melancholic with the start of this September while looking back at the chapter that closed.
Thank you @das.theatre
Thank you thank you thank you to the most amazing peers, tutors, staff, collaborators and advisors 💛

Feeling funky and melancholic with the start of this September while looking back at the chapter that closed.
Thank you @das.theatre
Thank you thank you thank you to the most amazing peers, tutors, staff, collaborators and advisors 💛

Feeling funky and melancholic with the start of this September while looking back at the chapter that closed.
Thank you @das.theatre
Thank you thank you thank you to the most amazing peers, tutors, staff, collaborators and advisors 💛

Feeling funky and melancholic with the start of this September while looking back at the chapter that closed.
Thank you @das.theatre
Thank you thank you thank you to the most amazing peers, tutors, staff, collaborators and advisors 💛

Already a month ago was the final public presentation of my research at DAS Theatre. Feeling extremely grateful for all of the eyes, thoughts and conversations that were shared. Couple more months to finalize this period, focusing on essay writing and workshopping practices. More to come, more to go, refusing to say goodbye since I do not believe in endings anyway ✨

All with @dekoenman @turtlemanproductions @hheiichh @peterisviksna @robbidoesart @crowly_olily_salad @mamelgares @lightblulu Lotte van den Berg

Photos by @turtlemanproductions

Already a month ago was the final public presentation of my research at DAS Theatre. Feeling extremely grateful for all of the eyes, thoughts and conversations that were shared. Couple more months to finalize this period, focusing on essay writing and workshopping practices. More to come, more to go, refusing to say goodbye since I do not believe in endings anyway ✨

All with @dekoenman @turtlemanproductions @hheiichh @peterisviksna @robbidoesart @crowly_olily_salad @mamelgares @lightblulu Lotte van den Berg

Photos by @turtlemanproductions

Already a month ago was the final public presentation of my research at DAS Theatre. Feeling extremely grateful for all of the eyes, thoughts and conversations that were shared. Couple more months to finalize this period, focusing on essay writing and workshopping practices. More to come, more to go, refusing to say goodbye since I do not believe in endings anyway ✨

All with @dekoenman @turtlemanproductions @hheiichh @peterisviksna @robbidoesart @crowly_olily_salad @mamelgares @lightblulu Lotte van den Berg

Photos by @turtlemanproductions

Already a month ago was the final public presentation of my research at DAS Theatre. Feeling extremely grateful for all of the eyes, thoughts and conversations that were shared. Couple more months to finalize this period, focusing on essay writing and workshopping practices. More to come, more to go, refusing to say goodbye since I do not believe in endings anyway ✨

All with @dekoenman @turtlemanproductions @hheiichh @peterisviksna @robbidoesart @crowly_olily_salad @mamelgares @lightblulu Lotte van den Berg

Photos by @turtlemanproductions

Already a month ago was the final public presentation of my research at DAS Theatre. Feeling extremely grateful for all of the eyes, thoughts and conversations that were shared. Couple more months to finalize this period, focusing on essay writing and workshopping practices. More to come, more to go, refusing to say goodbye since I do not believe in endings anyway ✨

All with @dekoenman @turtlemanproductions @hheiichh @peterisviksna @robbidoesart @crowly_olily_salad @mamelgares @lightblulu Lotte van den Berg

Photos by @turtlemanproductions

Already a month ago was the final public presentation of my research at DAS Theatre. Feeling extremely grateful for all of the eyes, thoughts and conversations that were shared. Couple more months to finalize this period, focusing on essay writing and workshopping practices. More to come, more to go, refusing to say goodbye since I do not believe in endings anyway ✨

All with @dekoenman @turtlemanproductions @hheiichh @peterisviksna @robbidoesart @crowly_olily_salad @mamelgares @lightblulu Lotte van den Berg

Photos by @turtlemanproductions

Already a month ago was the final public presentation of my research at DAS Theatre. Feeling extremely grateful for all of the eyes, thoughts and conversations that were shared. Couple more months to finalize this period, focusing on essay writing and workshopping practices. More to come, more to go, refusing to say goodbye since I do not believe in endings anyway ✨

All with @dekoenman @turtlemanproductions @hheiichh @peterisviksna @robbidoesart @crowly_olily_salad @mamelgares @lightblulu Lotte van den Berg

Photos by @turtlemanproductions

Already a month ago was the final public presentation of my research at DAS Theatre. Feeling extremely grateful for all of the eyes, thoughts and conversations that were shared. Couple more months to finalize this period, focusing on essay writing and workshopping practices. More to come, more to go, refusing to say goodbye since I do not believe in endings anyway ✨

All with @dekoenman @turtlemanproductions @hheiichh @peterisviksna @robbidoesart @crowly_olily_salad @mamelgares @lightblulu Lotte van den Berg

Photos by @turtlemanproductions

@das.theatre masterpresentations are coming up and you are warmly invited 🌞
Please check out the full program and book your (free!) tickets via link in bio

Refusals to say goodbye

March 10, 11, 13, 14th
17:30-18:45
DAS Theatre

1.
A camera in front of me, a second next to me, a third diagonally behind me. My reflection is being captured. I turn around to see the image, but I too turn around, and again, my face hides itself from view. In traffic we use mirrors in order to look around a corner to avoid ending up in a collision.

2.
I look out of the window and I see the clouds have finally opened up. Sunlight is beaming graphic shapes through the kitchen and I head over to the stairwell in the far right corner. It’s early January and the sun is too low to reach over the surrounding buildings. The stairwell, unlike the kitchen, is washed in a soft diffused haze.

3. 
While I struggle to put away my receipt, my analogue film roll still on the counter, an old man next to me asks if they might be interested in darkroom equipment. The shop owner shrugs—they only do digital—then points to me.

—

In collaboration with and supported by: @dekoenman @hheiichh @peterisviksna @turtlemanproductions @robbidoesart @lightblulu @mamelgares @crowly_olily_salad Lotte van den Berg Zhana Ivanova @das.theatre tutors, staff & peers 💛

@das.theatre masterpresentations are coming up and you are warmly invited 🌞
Please check out the full program and book your (free!) tickets via link in bio

Refusals to say goodbye

March 10, 11, 13, 14th
17:30-18:45
DAS Theatre

1.
A camera in front of me, a second next to me, a third diagonally behind me. My reflection is being captured. I turn around to see the image, but I too turn around, and again, my face hides itself from view. In traffic we use mirrors in order to look around a corner to avoid ending up in a collision.

2.
I look out of the window and I see the clouds have finally opened up. Sunlight is beaming graphic shapes through the kitchen and I head over to the stairwell in the far right corner. It’s early January and the sun is too low to reach over the surrounding buildings. The stairwell, unlike the kitchen, is washed in a soft diffused haze.

3. 
While I struggle to put away my receipt, my analogue film roll still on the counter, an old man next to me asks if they might be interested in darkroom equipment. The shop owner shrugs—they only do digital—then points to me.

—

In collaboration with and supported by: @dekoenman @hheiichh @peterisviksna @turtlemanproductions @robbidoesart @lightblulu @mamelgares @crowly_olily_salad Lotte van den Berg Zhana Ivanova @das.theatre tutors, staff & peers 💛

Introducing our upcoming Master Presentations at DAS Theatre, we start with “Refusals to say goodbye” by Sam Scheuermann.

“When tuning a radio, we are navigating noise, trying to find something we can potentially recognise: a word, a melody, a rhythm. I have no interest in eliminating the noise. I’m interested in the act of tuning itself, the act of orientation amidst the chaos we experience.”

Sam Scheuermann is a director, performer, photographer, and dramaturg, with a strong affinity to Dutch mime, photography and urban practices.

Visit Sam’s “Refusals to say goodbye” at DAS theatre on March 10,11,13 and 14.

Registration soon possible from DAS theatre website.

Portrait by: @peterisviksna
Photos and videos from rehearsal and behind the scene

#DAStheatre #GraduationPieces #masterpresentations

Introducing our upcoming Master Presentations at DAS Theatre, we start with “Refusals to say goodbye” by Sam Scheuermann.

“When tuning a radio, we are navigating noise, trying to find something we can potentially recognise: a word, a melody, a rhythm. I have no interest in eliminating the noise. I’m interested in the act of tuning itself, the act of orientation amidst the chaos we experience.”

Sam Scheuermann is a director, performer, photographer, and dramaturg, with a strong affinity to Dutch mime, photography and urban practices.

Visit Sam’s “Refusals to say goodbye” at DAS theatre on March 10,11,13 and 14.

Registration soon possible from DAS theatre website.

Portrait by: @peterisviksna
Photos and videos from rehearsal and behind the scene

#DAStheatre #GraduationPieces #masterpresentations

Introducing our upcoming Master Presentations at DAS Theatre, we start with “Refusals to say goodbye” by Sam Scheuermann.

“When tuning a radio, we are navigating noise, trying to find something we can potentially recognise: a word, a melody, a rhythm. I have no interest in eliminating the noise. I’m interested in the act of tuning itself, the act of orientation amidst the chaos we experience.”

Sam Scheuermann is a director, performer, photographer, and dramaturg, with a strong affinity to Dutch mime, photography and urban practices.

Visit Sam’s “Refusals to say goodbye” at DAS theatre on March 10,11,13 and 14.

Registration soon possible from DAS theatre website.

Portrait by: @peterisviksna
Photos and videos from rehearsal and behind the scene

#DAStheatre #GraduationPieces #masterpresentations

Introducing our upcoming Master Presentations at DAS Theatre, we start with “Refusals to say goodbye” by Sam Scheuermann.

“When tuning a radio, we are navigating noise, trying to find something we can potentially recognise: a word, a melody, a rhythm. I have no interest in eliminating the noise. I’m interested in the act of tuning itself, the act of orientation amidst the chaos we experience.”

Sam Scheuermann is a director, performer, photographer, and dramaturg, with a strong affinity to Dutch mime, photography and urban practices.

Visit Sam’s “Refusals to say goodbye” at DAS theatre on March 10,11,13 and 14.

Registration soon possible from DAS theatre website.

Portrait by: @peterisviksna
Photos and videos from rehearsal and behind the scene

#DAStheatre #GraduationPieces #masterpresentations

Introducing our upcoming Master Presentations at DAS Theatre, we start with “Refusals to say goodbye” by Sam Scheuermann.

“When tuning a radio, we are navigating noise, trying to find something we can potentially recognise: a word, a melody, a rhythm. I have no interest in eliminating the noise. I’m interested in the act of tuning itself, the act of orientation amidst the chaos we experience.”

Sam Scheuermann is a director, performer, photographer, and dramaturg, with a strong affinity to Dutch mime, photography and urban practices.

Visit Sam’s “Refusals to say goodbye” at DAS theatre on March 10,11,13 and 14.

Registration soon possible from DAS theatre website.

Portrait by: @peterisviksna
Photos and videos from rehearsal and behind the scene

#DAStheatre #GraduationPieces #masterpresentations

Introducing our upcoming Master Presentations at DAS Theatre, we start with “Refusals to say goodbye” by Sam Scheuermann.

“When tuning a radio, we are navigating noise, trying to find something we can potentially recognise: a word, a melody, a rhythm. I have no interest in eliminating the noise. I’m interested in the act of tuning itself, the act of orientation amidst the chaos we experience.”

Sam Scheuermann is a director, performer, photographer, and dramaturg, with a strong affinity to Dutch mime, photography and urban practices.

Visit Sam’s “Refusals to say goodbye” at DAS theatre on March 10,11,13 and 14.

Registration soon possible from DAS theatre website.

Portrait by: @peterisviksna
Photos and videos from rehearsal and behind the scene

#DAStheatre #GraduationPieces #masterpresentations

Introducing our upcoming Master Presentations at DAS Theatre, we start with “Refusals to say goodbye” by Sam Scheuermann.

“When tuning a radio, we are navigating noise, trying to find something we can potentially recognise: a word, a melody, a rhythm. I have no interest in eliminating the noise. I’m interested in the act of tuning itself, the act of orientation amidst the chaos we experience.”

Sam Scheuermann is a director, performer, photographer, and dramaturg, with a strong affinity to Dutch mime, photography and urban practices.

Visit Sam’s “Refusals to say goodbye” at DAS theatre on March 10,11,13 and 14.

Registration soon possible from DAS theatre website.

Portrait by: @peterisviksna
Photos and videos from rehearsal and behind the scene

#DAStheatre #GraduationPieces #masterpresentations

Introducing our upcoming Master Presentations at DAS Theatre, we start with “Refusals to say goodbye” by Sam Scheuermann.

“When tuning a radio, we are navigating noise, trying to find something we can potentially recognise: a word, a melody, a rhythm. I have no interest in eliminating the noise. I’m interested in the act of tuning itself, the act of orientation amidst the chaos we experience.”

Sam Scheuermann is a director, performer, photographer, and dramaturg, with a strong affinity to Dutch mime, photography and urban practices.

Visit Sam’s “Refusals to say goodbye” at DAS theatre on March 10,11,13 and 14.

Registration soon possible from DAS theatre website.

Portrait by: @peterisviksna
Photos and videos from rehearsal and behind the scene

#DAStheatre #GraduationPieces #masterpresentations

Introducing our upcoming Master Presentations at DAS Theatre, we start with “Refusals to say goodbye” by Sam Scheuermann.

“When tuning a radio, we are navigating noise, trying to find something we can potentially recognise: a word, a melody, a rhythm. I have no interest in eliminating the noise. I’m interested in the act of tuning itself, the act of orientation amidst the chaos we experience.”

Sam Scheuermann is a director, performer, photographer, and dramaturg, with a strong affinity to Dutch mime, photography and urban practices.

Visit Sam’s “Refusals to say goodbye” at DAS theatre on March 10,11,13 and 14.

Registration soon possible from DAS theatre website.

Portrait by: @peterisviksna
Photos and videos from rehearsal and behind the scene

#DAStheatre #GraduationPieces #masterpresentations

Thank you for having us @cometogetheramsterdam & @frascatiamsterdam, thank you for all the support to try-out this beast, and thank you @goda.zukauskaite for inviting me!
@dekoenman @peterisviksna @hheiichh
Photos by Reinout Bos

Next: 10-14th of March master presentations @das.theatre 🔥

Thank you for having us @cometogetheramsterdam & @frascatiamsterdam, thank you for all the support to try-out this beast, and thank you @goda.zukauskaite for inviting me!
@dekoenman @peterisviksna @hheiichh
Photos by Reinout Bos

Next: 10-14th of March master presentations @das.theatre 🔥

Thank you for having us @cometogetheramsterdam & @frascatiamsterdam, thank you for all the support to try-out this beast, and thank you @goda.zukauskaite for inviting me!
@dekoenman @peterisviksna @hheiichh
Photos by Reinout Bos

Next: 10-14th of March master presentations @das.theatre 🔥

Thank you for having us @cometogetheramsterdam & @frascatiamsterdam, thank you for all the support to try-out this beast, and thank you @goda.zukauskaite for inviting me!
@dekoenman @peterisviksna @hheiichh
Photos by Reinout Bos

Next: 10-14th of March master presentations @das.theatre 🔥

Thank you for having us @cometogetheramsterdam & @frascatiamsterdam, thank you for all the support to try-out this beast, and thank you @goda.zukauskaite for inviting me!
@dekoenman @peterisviksna @hheiichh
Photos by Reinout Bos

Next: 10-14th of March master presentations @das.theatre 🔥

Thank you for having us @cometogetheramsterdam & @frascatiamsterdam, thank you for all the support to try-out this beast, and thank you @goda.zukauskaite for inviting me!
@dekoenman @peterisviksna @hheiichh
Photos by Reinout Bos

Next: 10-14th of March master presentations @das.theatre 🔥