creative writing school
Module 10: Text & Performance Art
Welcome to the School of Disobedience's Online Creative Writing School, where we delve into the profound connection between text and voice. In this course, we explore how language, sound, and rhythm interact with performativity to shape not just words on a page, but living, breathing expressions of our inner worlds.
At the heart of this exploration lies the idea that our voices—powerful, subversive, and poetic—are more than mere tools of communication. They are acts of resistance, deeply tied to our identities and our desires to disrupt the narratives imposed upon us. Through this course, we aim to liberate those voices, amplify them, and give them the space to resonate fully.
We draw inspiration from Pina Bausch's iconic work, The Men I Love, where dance, movement, and spoken word blur the lines between performer and audience, expression and experience. In Bausch's world, bodies and voices are not passive; they actively challenge, disrupt, and reveal the complexities of human emotion and connection. Just as Bausch's performers push their bodies to express what language alone cannot, we will push the boundaries of text and voice to discover new depths in our creative expression.
Psychologically, this process invites us to confront the unconscious layers of our voices. Carl Jung spoke of the "shadow"—the parts of ourselves we often suppress. Through creative writing, we access this shadow, giving voice to the unspoken truths within us. By doing so, we transform our fears, desires, and defiance into art that both challenges and liberates.
Philosophically, this course taps into the ideas of philosopher Julia Kristeva, who explored the concept of the "abject"—what we push away but is undeniably part of us. Writing, like Bausch’s choreography, brings us into contact with what is raw, unsettling, and deeply human. Here, we embrace the abject as a source of power, finding beauty and strength in what society often encourages us to silence.
Artistically, this course is an invitation to see your voice as a medium, much like Bausch saw the body. Text becomes movement; rhythm becomes breath. We will explore how to write with the same physicality and intensity that a dancer brings to the stage, allowing words to carry the weight of both our inner and outer worlds.
As you move through this course, think of your writing as a performance, a place where your voice can dance, shout, whisper, and disrupt. Let your words be as fearless and subversive as Bausch’s choreography, and remember: your voice has the power to reshape the world.
Welcome to a space where your voice will not only be heard but felt—bold, unapologetic, and beautifully disobedient.
At the heart of this exploration lies the idea that our voices—powerful, subversive, and poetic—are more than mere tools of communication. They are acts of resistance, deeply tied to our identities and our desires to disrupt the narratives imposed upon us. Through this course, we aim to liberate those voices, amplify them, and give them the space to resonate fully.
We draw inspiration from Pina Bausch's iconic work, The Men I Love, where dance, movement, and spoken word blur the lines between performer and audience, expression and experience. In Bausch's world, bodies and voices are not passive; they actively challenge, disrupt, and reveal the complexities of human emotion and connection. Just as Bausch's performers push their bodies to express what language alone cannot, we will push the boundaries of text and voice to discover new depths in our creative expression.
Psychologically, this process invites us to confront the unconscious layers of our voices. Carl Jung spoke of the "shadow"—the parts of ourselves we often suppress. Through creative writing, we access this shadow, giving voice to the unspoken truths within us. By doing so, we transform our fears, desires, and defiance into art that both challenges and liberates.
Philosophically, this course taps into the ideas of philosopher Julia Kristeva, who explored the concept of the "abject"—what we push away but is undeniably part of us. Writing, like Bausch’s choreography, brings us into contact with what is raw, unsettling, and deeply human. Here, we embrace the abject as a source of power, finding beauty and strength in what society often encourages us to silence.
Artistically, this course is an invitation to see your voice as a medium, much like Bausch saw the body. Text becomes movement; rhythm becomes breath. We will explore how to write with the same physicality and intensity that a dancer brings to the stage, allowing words to carry the weight of both our inner and outer worlds.
As you move through this course, think of your writing as a performance, a place where your voice can dance, shout, whisper, and disrupt. Let your words be as fearless and subversive as Bausch’s choreography, and remember: your voice has the power to reshape the world.
Welcome to a space where your voice will not only be heard but felt—bold, unapologetic, and beautifully disobedient.
theory
I. "The shadow": bringing light to the dark corners of the psyche
Carl Jung’s concept of the shadow is central to his theory of the unconscious. The shadow represents everything we reject about ourselves, the parts we fear or feel ashamed of. These aspects may be our desires, fears, or emotions that we’ve learned to suppress because they don't fit into the image we present to the world. Yet, according to Jung, the shadow is not simply a negative force. It holds our creativity, spontaneity, and untapped potential. When we deny our shadow, we deny an essential part of our vitality.
In creative writing, the shadow often emerges in the form of taboo themes, disruptive characters, or unsettling emotions. Writing that truly resonates with others often taps into these shadow elements, even if we’re not fully conscious of it. The act of creating becomes a means of confronting and integrating these disowned parts of ourselves.
The challenge is to engage with the shadow consciously. To write from the shadow is to give voice to what is hidden and feared within us. It’s an act of courage—one that involves looking at ourselves honestly and without judgment. By doing so, we can create work that is more authentic, raw, and compelling. In the words of Jung, "One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious."
Carl Jung’s concept of the shadow is central to his theory of the unconscious. The shadow represents everything we reject about ourselves, the parts we fear or feel ashamed of. These aspects may be our desires, fears, or emotions that we’ve learned to suppress because they don't fit into the image we present to the world. Yet, according to Jung, the shadow is not simply a negative force. It holds our creativity, spontaneity, and untapped potential. When we deny our shadow, we deny an essential part of our vitality.
In creative writing, the shadow often emerges in the form of taboo themes, disruptive characters, or unsettling emotions. Writing that truly resonates with others often taps into these shadow elements, even if we’re not fully conscious of it. The act of creating becomes a means of confronting and integrating these disowned parts of ourselves.
The challenge is to engage with the shadow consciously. To write from the shadow is to give voice to what is hidden and feared within us. It’s an act of courage—one that involves looking at ourselves honestly and without judgment. By doing so, we can create work that is more authentic, raw, and compelling. In the words of Jung, "One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious."
II. Julia Kristeva and the "Abject": Writing from the margins of the self
If Jung’s shadow represents the repressed parts of the self, Kristeva’s abjection represents what is rejected on a deeper, more visceral level. In her seminal work Powers of Horror: An Essay on Abjection, Kristeva describes the abject as that which disturbs identity, system, and order. It is what we cast out in order to maintain a sense of self and social cohesion. The abject is deeply connected to bodily functions, death, and decay—things that remind us of our own vulnerability and mortality.
In writing, the abject surfaces as the grotesque, the uncomfortable, the things we would rather not confront. Yet, like the shadow, the abject is a source of power. It challenges us to expand the boundaries of what is acceptable, to question the norms that confine us. Writing that engages with the abject forces readers to confront their own discomfort and, in doing so, destabilizes the very systems of thought that seek to suppress it.
Kristeva’s work points to the importance of embracing the abject in creative expression. By writing from the margins of the self, from the places we are taught to avoid, we can create work that is subversive and transformative. This is the voice that disrupts, the voice that refuses to conform to the safe and the sanitized. It is the voice that says, “I exist, in all my messiness, complexity, and contradiction.”
If Jung’s shadow represents the repressed parts of the self, Kristeva’s abjection represents what is rejected on a deeper, more visceral level. In her seminal work Powers of Horror: An Essay on Abjection, Kristeva describes the abject as that which disturbs identity, system, and order. It is what we cast out in order to maintain a sense of self and social cohesion. The abject is deeply connected to bodily functions, death, and decay—things that remind us of our own vulnerability and mortality.
In writing, the abject surfaces as the grotesque, the uncomfortable, the things we would rather not confront. Yet, like the shadow, the abject is a source of power. It challenges us to expand the boundaries of what is acceptable, to question the norms that confine us. Writing that engages with the abject forces readers to confront their own discomfort and, in doing so, destabilizes the very systems of thought that seek to suppress it.
Kristeva’s work points to the importance of embracing the abject in creative expression. By writing from the margins of the self, from the places we are taught to avoid, we can create work that is subversive and transformative. This is the voice that disrupts, the voice that refuses to conform to the safe and the sanitized. It is the voice that says, “I exist, in all my messiness, complexity, and contradiction.”
inspiration
Pina Bausch was a German choreographer and dancer known for her contribution to a neo-expressionist dance tradition now known as Tanztheater. Her work incorporated many expressly dramatic elements (text, movement, sound, stage set...), and often explored themes connected to trauma arising out of relationships.
Pina Bausch’s The Men I Love serves as a compelling example of how the shadow and abjection can be embodied and expressed through movement and performativity. In this piece, Bausch’s dancers confront and embrace the raw, vulnerable, and often unsettling aspects of human relationships. Through their bodies, they perform the unspoken emotions, the suppressed desires, and the abject fears that lie beneath the surface of love and connection.
Bausch’s choreography doesn’t shy away from the discomfort of abjection or the darkness of the shadow. Instead, it invites the audience to witness the full spectrum of human emotion, from tenderness to brutality, from joy to sorrow. The performers embody the contradictions inherent in love—the push and pull between desire and fear, between connection and rejection. In this way, The Men I Love becomes a dance of abjection, where the boundaries of identity are blurred, and the shadow is brought into the light through movement.
For writers, The Men I Love offers a powerful metaphor for the creative process. Just as Bausch’s dancers use their bodies to express what words cannot, writers can use language, rhythm, and sound to bring the unspeakable into the realm of expression. The poetic body of the text becomes a space where the shadow and abjection can be explored, liberated, and transformed.
Pina Bausch’s The Men I Love serves as a compelling example of how the shadow and abjection can be embodied and expressed through movement and performativity. In this piece, Bausch’s dancers confront and embrace the raw, vulnerable, and often unsettling aspects of human relationships. Through their bodies, they perform the unspoken emotions, the suppressed desires, and the abject fears that lie beneath the surface of love and connection.
Bausch’s choreography doesn’t shy away from the discomfort of abjection or the darkness of the shadow. Instead, it invites the audience to witness the full spectrum of human emotion, from tenderness to brutality, from joy to sorrow. The performers embody the contradictions inherent in love—the push and pull between desire and fear, between connection and rejection. In this way, The Men I Love becomes a dance of abjection, where the boundaries of identity are blurred, and the shadow is brought into the light through movement.
For writers, The Men I Love offers a powerful metaphor for the creative process. Just as Bausch’s dancers use their bodies to express what words cannot, writers can use language, rhythm, and sound to bring the unspeakable into the realm of expression. The poetic body of the text becomes a space where the shadow and abjection can be explored, liberated, and transformed.
creative writing exercise
In this exercise, we invite you to explore the hidden parts of yourself—the parts that live in the shadows and the spaces you typically shy away from. Drawing inspiration from Carl Jung's shadow, Julia Kristeva's abjection, and Pina Bausch's The Men I Love, allow your writing to confront what is usually left unsaid, unseen, or rejected.
To write from the shadow and the abject is to tap into a deep reservoir of creativity and truth. It is a journey of self-discovery, one that requires honesty, courage, and a willingness to embrace the full complexity of who we are. By confronting what we normally keep hidden, we can amplify our voices in ways that are powerful, subversive, and poetic. This is the essence of the School of Disobedience: to speak the unspeakable, to write the unwritable, and to create art that challenges and transforms both ourselves and the world around us.
Step 1: Write a scene, poem, or monologue that gives voice to something you have previously kept in the shadows. It could be a fear, desire, memory, or part of your identity that you’ve avoided confronting. Use this piece of writing to engage with your shadow in a way that feels both liberating and unsettling.
Step 2: Next, weave in the theme of abjection. Let your writing touch on the raw and uncomfortable—the things that challenge your sense of self or push the boundaries of what you feel comfortable expressing. Don’t shy away from the messy or the grotesque. Instead, let your words embrace the abject, finding beauty in the discomfort.
Step 3: Finally, approach this exercise as a performance. Write with movement and rhythm in mind. How can the structure of your sentences mimic the physicality of a dance? How can you use pauses, repetition, and pacing to create a sense of tension and release, much like a choreographer would in a piece of dance theater?
Let this be a space where you confront and liberate your most powerful, subversive, and poetic voice.
To write from the shadow and the abject is to tap into a deep reservoir of creativity and truth. It is a journey of self-discovery, one that requires honesty, courage, and a willingness to embrace the full complexity of who we are. By confronting what we normally keep hidden, we can amplify our voices in ways that are powerful, subversive, and poetic. This is the essence of the School of Disobedience: to speak the unspeakable, to write the unwritable, and to create art that challenges and transforms both ourselves and the world around us.
Step 1: Write a scene, poem, or monologue that gives voice to something you have previously kept in the shadows. It could be a fear, desire, memory, or part of your identity that you’ve avoided confronting. Use this piece of writing to engage with your shadow in a way that feels both liberating and unsettling.
Step 2: Next, weave in the theme of abjection. Let your writing touch on the raw and uncomfortable—the things that challenge your sense of self or push the boundaries of what you feel comfortable expressing. Don’t shy away from the messy or the grotesque. Instead, let your words embrace the abject, finding beauty in the discomfort.
Step 3: Finally, approach this exercise as a performance. Write with movement and rhythm in mind. How can the structure of your sentences mimic the physicality of a dance? How can you use pauses, repetition, and pacing to create a sense of tension and release, much like a choreographer would in a piece of dance theater?
Let this be a space where you confront and liberate your most powerful, subversive, and poetic voice.
toolbox
In your creative writing, delve into the intricate relationship between text and voice, exploring how you navigate the transition from auditory sensations to written words. Reflect on your thoughts, emotions, and experiences as you grapple with the following questions:
As you engage with these questions, allow your thoughts and emotions to flow freely onto the page. Embrace the opportunity to explore the dynamic interplay between sound and text, inviting readers on a sensory journey through the power of your words.
- How do you translate the nuances of sound into text? Consider the challenge of capturing the richness of auditory experiences through written language.
- Reflect on the characteristics of sound, such as level, volume, and speed. How do these elements influence your writing process? Explore how you convey these qualities effectively in your text.
- Delve into your personal approach to writing with sound. Do you rely on vivid descriptions, metaphorical language, or rhythmic patterns to evoke auditory sensations in your writing?
- Explore the creative techniques and strategies you employ to infuse your text with the essence of sound. Whether through onomatopoeia, sensory imagery, or metaphorical associations, consider how you craft a multisensory experience for your readers.
- Reflect on the challenges and rewards of writing with sound. How does this approach enhance the depth and resonance of your writing? What insights or discoveries have you gained from exploring the intersection of sound and text?
As you engage with these questions, allow your thoughts and emotions to flow freely onto the page. Embrace the opportunity to explore the dynamic interplay between sound and text, inviting readers on a sensory journey through the power of your words.
stay grounded and motivated
"In our creative writing class, I invite you to liberate yourself from the weight of expectations and the suffocating pressure of perfection. Embrace the freedom to write authentically, without fear of judgment or self-doubt. Your voice is unique, your stories are valid, and your words have the power to resonate deeply with others. Trust in your creative instincts, and allow your imagination to roam wild and free. Release any limitations you may impose upon yourself, and let your creativity soar to new heights. Remember, the beauty of writing lies not in conforming to external standards, but in expressing the truth of your own experiences and perspectives. So, write with passion, write with courage, and write with unbridled authenticity. Your voice matters, and your stories deserve to be heard. Let your creativity be your guide as you embark on this empowering journey of self-expression."
—Anna Ádám
Founder of the School of Disobedience
—Anna Ádám
Founder of the School of Disobedience
Photo: Fortepan / Makovecz Benjamin