creative writing school
Module 10: Text & Performance Art
structure
Introduction
Theory:
Toolbox
Stay grounded & motivated
Share your text with us
Theory:
- Florian Gaité: Tout à danser s’épuise (Everything that dances exhausts)
- Giselle Vienne: CROWD
Toolbox
Stay grounded & motivated
Share your text with us
introduction
Movement, like text, is a language—one that speaks through the body, often articulating what words cannot. In this course on text and movement, we will explore how these two forms of expression interact, collide, and merge to create new ways of communicating stories, emotions, and ideas. Movement, in its rhythmic and often subconscious flow, can guide our writing, just as text can inspire new ways of moving, of inhabiting our bodies. This interplay opens up vast possibilities for creative expression, allowing us to consider movement as a form of writing and writing as a form of dance.
Our exploration is grounded in the collaborative work between choreographer Giselle Vienne and writer Dennis Cooper, as well as the philosophical reflections of Florian Gaité (Tout à danser s’épuise / Everything that dances exhausts). These two works invite us to consider the darker, more ambiguous spaces where movement and text intersect, creating a tension between physicality and language that generates new, often unsettling narratives.
Our exploration is grounded in the collaborative work between choreographer Giselle Vienne and writer Dennis Cooper, as well as the philosophical reflections of Florian Gaité (Tout à danser s’épuise / Everything that dances exhausts). These two works invite us to consider the darker, more ambiguous spaces where movement and text intersect, creating a tension between physicality and language that generates new, often unsettling narratives.
theory
Florian Gaité – Everything Exhausts Itself in Dancing (Tout à danser s’épuise)
Gaité’s concept that everything exhausts itself in dancing critiques the idea of dance as a neo-religious or transcendental practice. He argues that in contemporary society, dance, especially in the form of rave or techno culture, expresses a nihilistic search for immanence rather than transcendence. This exhaustion, this relentless expenditure of energy, is not about reaching some higher state of being, but instead, a radical denial of transcendence and external meaning.
In writing, we can explore how text, like dance, can push towards exhaustion, where language is no longer simply a tool for meaning but becomes a form of physical experience—a place where rhythm, repetition, and bodily engagement create something beyond conventional meaning.
Gaité’s concept that everything exhausts itself in dancing critiques the idea of dance as a neo-religious or transcendental practice. He argues that in contemporary society, dance, especially in the form of rave or techno culture, expresses a nihilistic search for immanence rather than transcendence. This exhaustion, this relentless expenditure of energy, is not about reaching some higher state of being, but instead, a radical denial of transcendence and external meaning.
In writing, we can explore how text, like dance, can push towards exhaustion, where language is no longer simply a tool for meaning but becomes a form of physical experience—a place where rhythm, repetition, and bodily engagement create something beyond conventional meaning.
inspiration
Collaboration Between Giselle Vienne and Dennis Cooper
In CROWD, Vienne’s choreography presents a fragmented, hallucinatory world where bodies engage in rituals of violence, sensuality, and abandon, set to a relentless DJ set by Peter Rehberg. The performance explores the collective experience of a techno rave, but also the darker impulses of human nature. The bodies in motion, sometimes suspended in slow motion, sometimes writhing in fast, frenetic movements, create a space where the line between euphoria and brutality blurs.
Giselle Vienne's "CROWD" provides a tangible case study. Here, Dennis Cooper's meticulously crafted characters are embodied by dancers, each movement a manifestation of the text's emotional and psychological depths. The choreography is not merely an interpretation of the text but a living extension of it, with each dancer becoming a vessel through which the text’s essence is physically communicated. This interplay between the written word and its physical representation highlights how movement can crystallize narrative elements, making abstract emotions and themes palpable and dynamic.
In CROWD, Vienne’s choreography presents a fragmented, hallucinatory world where bodies engage in rituals of violence, sensuality, and abandon, set to a relentless DJ set by Peter Rehberg. The performance explores the collective experience of a techno rave, but also the darker impulses of human nature. The bodies in motion, sometimes suspended in slow motion, sometimes writhing in fast, frenetic movements, create a space where the line between euphoria and brutality blurs.
Giselle Vienne's "CROWD" provides a tangible case study. Here, Dennis Cooper's meticulously crafted characters are embodied by dancers, each movement a manifestation of the text's emotional and psychological depths. The choreography is not merely an interpretation of the text but a living extension of it, with each dancer becoming a vessel through which the text’s essence is physically communicated. This interplay between the written word and its physical representation highlights how movement can crystallize narrative elements, making abstract emotions and themes palpable and dynamic.
creative writing prompts
Ritual and release
Write a piece inspired by a repetitive physical motion (e.g., walking, dancing, breathing). Focus on how the repetition can build toward a climax, exhaustion, or even collapse. Let the rhythm of this movement guide the structure of your text.
Slow motion narrative
Inspired by CROWD, create a narrative where time distorts. Choose a moment in your story where time slows to an extreme, like the bodies in Vienne’s choreography. Let this slowness heighten the emotional or psychological tension of the scene.
Exhaustion as a form
Write a piece where the narrative or the form itself seems to exhaust itself—whether through repetition, circular logic, or fragmented structure. Push your text to its breaking point, where it becomes something more than narrative and begins to mimic physical fatigue.
Write a piece inspired by a repetitive physical motion (e.g., walking, dancing, breathing). Focus on how the repetition can build toward a climax, exhaustion, or even collapse. Let the rhythm of this movement guide the structure of your text.
Slow motion narrative
Inspired by CROWD, create a narrative where time distorts. Choose a moment in your story where time slows to an extreme, like the bodies in Vienne’s choreography. Let this slowness heighten the emotional or psychological tension of the scene.
Exhaustion as a form
Write a piece where the narrative or the form itself seems to exhaust itself—whether through repetition, circular logic, or fragmented structure. Push your text to its breaking point, where it becomes something more than narrative and begins to mimic physical fatigue.
toolbox
Rhythmic writing
Start by listening to a piece of techno music or a rhythmic track. Let the music dictate the flow of your writing. Create a story or poem that mirrors the rise and fall of the beats. Use repetition and variation to build intensity, just as a DJ builds a set towards a crescendo.
Fragmentation and reconstruction
Take a complete piece of writing (either your own or a pre-existing text) and cut it into fragments. Rearrange the fragments into a new order, creating a non-linear narrative. This exercise reflects how movements in dance can be isolated and recombined to form new patterns.
Body as text
In the spirit of Giselle Vienne’s work, write a piece that uses the body as a central metaphor. How does the body move through the space of the story? How do gestures, postures, and physical sensations contribute to the narrative? Focus on writing from the body, rather than just about the body.
Exhaustion and meaninglessness
Inspired by Gaité’s critique, write a scene or poem where the characters or the voice of the text seem to be searching for meaning, only to encounter nothingness. Allow the text to become exhausted with its own effort to understand, leading to a sense of nihilistic conclusion—or non-conclusion.
Start by listening to a piece of techno music or a rhythmic track. Let the music dictate the flow of your writing. Create a story or poem that mirrors the rise and fall of the beats. Use repetition and variation to build intensity, just as a DJ builds a set towards a crescendo.
Fragmentation and reconstruction
Take a complete piece of writing (either your own or a pre-existing text) and cut it into fragments. Rearrange the fragments into a new order, creating a non-linear narrative. This exercise reflects how movements in dance can be isolated and recombined to form new patterns.
Body as text
In the spirit of Giselle Vienne’s work, write a piece that uses the body as a central metaphor. How does the body move through the space of the story? How do gestures, postures, and physical sensations contribute to the narrative? Focus on writing from the body, rather than just about the body.
Exhaustion and meaninglessness
Inspired by Gaité’s critique, write a scene or poem where the characters or the voice of the text seem to be searching for meaning, only to encounter nothingness. Allow the text to become exhausted with its own effort to understand, leading to a sense of nihilistic conclusion—or non-conclusion.
stay grounded and motivated
"As we come to the end of this course, I invite you to take a moment to reflect on what you’ve learned, not just about writing and movement, but about yourself. We live in a world that constantly tells us to push, to exceed, to always go beyond. The dominant rhetoric of our time—whether it’s in the form of "pushing yourself out of your comfort zone" or "exceeding your limits"—is deeply entangled with the demands of a productivist, capitalistic framework. This narrative, rooted in the idea of ceaseless production and self-optimization, is so pervasive that we rarely stop to question it. But today, I’d like us to pause and consider another possibility.
What if the goal is not to push yourself into exhaustion? What if it's not about breaking limits or chasing the next peak of performance? In the context of our exploration of text and movement, grounded in Florian Gaité's reflections on exhaustiveness, we’ve seen how exhaustion can reveal something profound—a stripping away of facades, a rawness that opens new avenues of expression. But it also asks: What happens when we give ourselves permission to stop, to not push any further?
Exceeding limits for the sake of it may not be the revolutionary act we are often led to believe. Instead, it can become another form of submission, a compliance with a system that values output over experience, results over depth. In this space, within the School of Disobedience, we don’t push anyone to perform beyond their capacity or to break themselves in pursuit of some external validation. Here, our aim is not to push but to open doors—to show you that there are other possibilities, other rhythms, other ways to be.
This course has been about movement, yes, but also stillness. About text, yes, but also silence. It's about understanding that while pushing past limits can lead to new insights, so too can gentleness, rest, and grounded reflection. In fact, the greatest creative breakthroughs often come not in moments of extreme exertion, but in the spaces between—when we allow ourselves to be still, to listen, and to receive.
So as you move forward from here, I encourage you to challenge the narratives that insist you must constantly push, strive, or transcend. Instead, cultivate curiosity. Let exhaustion be a guide, not a goal. Open doors within yourself without the expectation of crossing every threshold. Some doors are meant to remain ajar—possibilities waiting for the right moment.
Motivation does not always have to be a fire that drives you; sometimes it can be a quiet breeze that carries you to unexpected places. Ground yourself in the knowledge that there is no need to rush, no need to push beyond your means. The creative journey is not a race, and the possibilities you seek will reveal themselves when you are ready to receive them.
Thank you for being here, for trusting this process, and for allowing yourselves the space to explore these possibilities with integrity and care. Remember, the door is always open."
—Anna Ádám
Founder of the School of Disobedience
What if the goal is not to push yourself into exhaustion? What if it's not about breaking limits or chasing the next peak of performance? In the context of our exploration of text and movement, grounded in Florian Gaité's reflections on exhaustiveness, we’ve seen how exhaustion can reveal something profound—a stripping away of facades, a rawness that opens new avenues of expression. But it also asks: What happens when we give ourselves permission to stop, to not push any further?
Exceeding limits for the sake of it may not be the revolutionary act we are often led to believe. Instead, it can become another form of submission, a compliance with a system that values output over experience, results over depth. In this space, within the School of Disobedience, we don’t push anyone to perform beyond their capacity or to break themselves in pursuit of some external validation. Here, our aim is not to push but to open doors—to show you that there are other possibilities, other rhythms, other ways to be.
This course has been about movement, yes, but also stillness. About text, yes, but also silence. It's about understanding that while pushing past limits can lead to new insights, so too can gentleness, rest, and grounded reflection. In fact, the greatest creative breakthroughs often come not in moments of extreme exertion, but in the spaces between—when we allow ourselves to be still, to listen, and to receive.
So as you move forward from here, I encourage you to challenge the narratives that insist you must constantly push, strive, or transcend. Instead, cultivate curiosity. Let exhaustion be a guide, not a goal. Open doors within yourself without the expectation of crossing every threshold. Some doors are meant to remain ajar—possibilities waiting for the right moment.
Motivation does not always have to be a fire that drives you; sometimes it can be a quiet breeze that carries you to unexpected places. Ground yourself in the knowledge that there is no need to rush, no need to push beyond your means. The creative journey is not a race, and the possibilities you seek will reveal themselves when you are ready to receive them.
Thank you for being here, for trusting this process, and for allowing yourselves the space to explore these possibilities with integrity and care. Remember, the door is always open."
—Anna Ádám
Founder of the School of Disobedience
Photo: Gisèle Vienne - Crowd