 During my time teaching at the Academy of Fine Arts in Vienna, my students often asked, "What is the role of the artist today?" I believe the artist’s role is not just to observe but to learn how to truly see, to make visible the tangled web of existence we so often overlook. While political rhetoric, religious doctrines, and dogmatic ideologies attempt to streamline reality—bending it to fit their agendas—artists dive into the mess of contradictions, paradoxes, and uncertainties that shape our lives.
Politics simplifies. It reduces the complex to digestible slogans, aiming to persuade, not to explore. Religion and ideology, too, provide comforting frameworks, but these frameworks can flatten the intricacies of perception, imposing truths where there are often only questions. What is lost in this process? The richness of life’s diversity, the subtle interactions, and the contradictions that make us who we are. Artists, on the other hand, reject these shortcuts. They reveal the layers, the connections, the things that don’t fit neatly into a box. They lean into ambiguity, embracing the shades of gray that others avoid. Their work does more than capture a moment—it uncovers how emotions, culture, social structures, and our environment are woven together in ways that are impossible to reduce to simple answers. Through this exploration, artists present a more honest, pluralistic view of existence. When we engage with art, we are asked to look deeper, to push past surface interpretations. Art reflects back at us the complexity of our own lives, inviting us to question, to reflect, and ultimately to embrace the uncertainty that surrounds us. That’s why artists are feared by those in power: they disrupt the narratives, they expose what’s hidden, and they inspire change in ways that shake the foundation of rigid systems.
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 In the world of political activism, we often talk about systems and structures, about dismantling the forces that oppress and silence. But rarely do we start where all true transformation begins: with ourselves. Self-empowerment is not about ego, nor is it some isolated act of self-improvement divorced from the larger fight. It is the essential root of any lasting change, the bedrock from which all activism must grow. Without this foundation, any movement risks being hollow, a mere reaction to external forces rather than a force of its own.
Self-empowerment is not just personal growth. It’s about seeing yourself clearly, owning your strengths and weaknesses, and recognizing how deeply intertwined your internal battles are with the external struggles you fight against. When we learn to empower ourselves, we’re not just becoming better activists; we’re learning to dismantle the internalized narratives that keep us complicit in systems of oppression. And this is where the real work begins. When you begin this journey, you don’t just change how you move through the world—you change how you see the world. The personal becomes political, and suddenly, what seemed like small, individual acts of transformation—speaking out, reclaiming space, challenging your own conditioning—become threads in the larger fabric of revolution. And this is how movements grow. From the ground up. From the individual outward. Self-empowerment also brings with it a necessary resilience. When you’ve worked through your own fears and limitations, you don’t just learn to stand in your truth—you become unshakable. In a world that constantly pushes back against change, it is this inner strength that sustains you, that keeps you fighting when the stakes are high and the obstacles seem insurmountable. And in that steadiness, others find their strength. Self-empowerment is contagious. At the School of Disobedience, we teach that your personal transformation is never just yours. It’s a spark. As you change, so does the world around you. This is why we insist that activism and self-empowerment are inseparable. You cannot fight to free others if you are not free within yourself. Every personal breakthrough, every layer of social conditioning you peel away, every step you take toward your own liberation adds momentum to the broader struggle. We don’t pretend that self-empowerment is easy. It’s not. It requires a deep willingness to confront the ways we’ve been shaped by the very systems we seek to undo. It asks you to examine your place within those systems—where you’ve benefited, where you’ve been complicit, and where you’ve suffered. It’s uncomfortable work, but it’s necessary if we want to create something more than just another iteration of the same old power dynamics. When individuals do this work, something extraordinary happens: the collective shifts. A movement becomes more than just a reaction to injustice; it becomes a vision of a new way of being, a new way of existing together. This is where the real power lies, in the ability to see beyond the immediate struggle to the world we want to create—and in knowing that the world we want to create starts with us. At the School of Disobedience, we teach you to see yourself as a vital part of this transformation. Your growth is not a side effect of activism—it is activism. By aligning personal empowerment with collective action, we forge a path that leads not just to resistance, but to creation. We’re not just fighting against systems; we’re building new ones, ones that make space for everyone, that reflect the values of equality, justice, and freedom. This is the future we envision. A world where self-empowerment is not a luxury but a necessity, where personal transformation feeds directly into social revolution, and where every individual who dares to confront their own shadows becomes a beacon of possibility for others. The systems that bind us fear this kind of power because it cannot be controlled, and it cannot be stopped. This is your invitation to step into that power. To transform yourself, and in doing so, transform the world.  Human desire revolves around the idea of lacking what we do not have, making it a central part of our existence. We constantly yearn for what we perceive as missing, and this perpetual desire keeps us from true contentment. Desire equates to lack, and lack brings suffering.
Happiness is often thought of as having what we want, but it's not about having everything we want. Kant suggests that true happiness is more an ideal of imagination than reason. Real contentment comes from fulfilling a significant portion of our desires. However, we only desire what we don't have, so we are perpetually seeking and never completely satisfied. When a desire is fulfilled, it ceases to be a desire. Sartre said, “Pleasure is the death and failure of desire.” Once we get what we want, it loses its allure, and we start longing for something new. Therefore, happiness isn't about having what we once desired but continuously having new desires. Unfulfilled desires cause frustration and suffering, while fulfilled desires lead to boredom, as the lack and longing that drive us dissipate. The object of our desire, when unattained, seems to hold unparalleled value. But once achieved, it loses its significance, and we quickly move on to desiring something new. Eastern philosophies, particularly Buddhism, emphasize the idea that attachment to desires is the root of suffering. The Four Noble Truths teach that recognizing the nature of suffering, understanding its cause (attachment and desire), and following the Eightfold Path can lead to liberation from this cycle. By letting go of attachment and learning to be present, one can find peace and contentment that transcends the ups and downs of desire. As Schopenhauer states, happiness is not the presence of desire but its absence. You might think, "I would be happy if..." but whether the "if..." comes true or not, true happiness is rarely found. Instead, we oscillate between suffering from unfulfilled desires and boredom from satisfied ones. This leads to the grim realization summed up by Schopenhauer's quote: "Life swings like a pendulum, from right to left, from suffering to boredom." George Bernard Shaw poignantly summarized this paradox by stating: "There are two tragedies in life. One is not to get your heart's desire. The other is to get it."  My Fight Clubs are arenas for reappropriation. Here, through practices like self-defense, wrestling, and playful fighting, we not only reclaim but also assert our ownership of voices, bodies, emotions, and spaces that rightfully belong to us but have been unjustly taken away.
My Fight Clubs are also brave spaces where we dare to challenge societal norms and personal limitations. In this nurturing and secure environment, participants are encouraged to explore their physical and emotional boundaries without fear of judgment, allowing for deep personal growth and empowerment. My Fight Clubs are political soft spaces for tactical and strategic thinking, where we learn how to navigate power dynamics, resist domination, and stand up for ourselves. Here, I empower individuals to become agents of transformation, starting with their own personal development. My Fight Clubs are spaces of leadership outside of the capitalist framework. Here, we explore our unique leadership styles and reclaim agency, fostering confidence, and developing the skills necessary to occupy space and effect change.  Azt hiszem engem nem az érdekel, hogy milyen ösztöndíjak vannak a piacon, hanem például hogy milyen más lehetőségei vannak egy mai magyar kortárs képzőművésznek arra, hogy konkrétan ne haljon éhen. Az ösztöndíj rendszer, mellesleg romokban, mellesleg egy szűk szekta kezében, egy-egy kivétellel, alamizsna, semmiképpen sem megoldás.
A pályázati rendszer egy iszonyú toxikus függőség. Egy drog, amire rászoktatják a művészeket, egy kiszolgáltatott helyzet, ami észre sem veszed milyen megalázó és hitvány. Amikor pályázol, és elfogadod, hogy a rendszer része leszel, tudd, hogy ezzel leginkább egy szűk réteg hatalmi pozícióját erősíted. Feletted. Ettől függetlenül nem a művészeket hibáztatom, értem miért pályáztok, én is volt, hogy pályáztam. De nem is a pályázati rendszert, hiszen maga a rendszer teljesen logikus, hogy létrejön, és ultra liberális kapitalista eszmével kapva kap művészek nyomorán. Én a művészetoktatási rendszert hibáztatom, amiért erre a cuccra szoktatja a diákokat. Amiért nem mutat nekik mást. Amiért megnyomorítja művészek önbecsülését egy demagóg, hazug retorikával. Amiért nem hisz a diákokban, és nem nyit ki előttük új kapukat! Nem az volna a dolga a jelenlegi művészetoktatási rendszernek, hogy ismerteti a diákokkal a létező pályázatokat, hanem hogy támogatja és bátorítja őket abban, hogy megtalálják a függetlenségük útját, segít nekik abban, hogy művészként hogyan tudnak a saját lábukra állni. A School of Disobedience ebben is más, hogy az akadémiával ellentétben nem a függőségre, hanem az önállóságra nevel! |
Author"I graduated from both ESSEC Business School and ENSAPC Art School in France. As a choreographer, cultural entrepreneur, and community activist, I harness the transformative power of art to build spaces, experiences, and communities. My artistic practice explores new poetic, fragile, and hybrid forms, spanning multiple mediums, including text, image, object, and movement. I create full-length dance pieces, short-format performances, immersive installations, multi-sensory community experiences. Over the past two decades, I've founded the School of Disobedience, established my own performance art company (Gray Box), and launched the annual Wildflowers Festival. I embrace everything unusual, unexpected, and nonconformist. I am not kind with assholes and have learned to forge my own path. I am here to guide you in thinking outside the box and achieving independence. To me, the real party is outside the confines of the established canon." Archives
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