For years, I've been turning down institutional requests disguised as "theater education programs" or "museum pedagogy workshops." These methods, with their demagogic smiles, infantilize and playfully manipulate audiences of children, adults, seniors, or marginalized groups. "Taste-shaping" becomes propaganda and manipulation, especially when institutions mold artists into producing similar works that fit their own agenda. Convincing people that this is "the" art, or this is how it "should" be interpreted, is akin to telling someone what to think, what qualifies as art, what to applaud, and when. These sessions don't aim to foster critical thinking; instead, they promote indoctrination and dogmatic worship.
Most museum pedagogy and theater education programs can be seen as mere sales strategies—a means to expand the institution's target audience and promote the artists it represents. But in terms of pedagogy and education, they're utterly irrelevant—don't be fooled! In fact, neither theater education programs nor museum pedagogy would be necessary if artists created art directly for their audience, rather than relying on intermediaries like curators, critics, and art historians who interpret and explain artworks in cryptic language. These intermediaries are like translators decoding jargon and unraveling academic puzzles. But why? I believe that, eventually, artists will create directly for their audience rather than for intermediaries. They won't aim to please a narrow circle but to reach broader audiences. They won't seek to prove themselves but to connect. They won't close off but open up. They'll share and give. To achieve this, I think we need a radical transformation in academic art education. Artists must be socialized in a platform where they learn to break free from conventions. They shouldn't aim to fit into art history but to break out of it. They shouldn't seek continuity and assimilation but rupture. They shouldn't look back to the past, rely on existing rhetoric, follow trends, or boast about following someone else's path. Instead of writing a new chapter in the book, they should come up with something entirely new. Therefore, what we need today is an art education that doesn't produce cannon fodder but independent and critical artists who create freely, experiment boldly, and aren't afraid to explore new territories. The School of Disobedience is exactly that.
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"This event doesn't want to be anything more than a performance evening.
This evening is radical because it's simple, honest, and generous. It doesn't compare people and it doesn't think in terms of competition. Its courage lies in its freedom. Its freedom is where it finds its courage." WHY CHOOSE A REHEARSAL ROOM FOR THE PERFORMANCE EVENING? ➤ To foster an environment of experimentation. Rather than presenting a polished performance, we aim to explore and refine our ideas. This process invites spectators to actively engage and participate in the creative journey. It's an open invitation for those intrigued by the creative process to join us. For those seeking a more traditional experience, the theater awaits. The setting is deliberately informal, devoid of judgment or pressure. Here, freedom reigns supreme — freedom to create, to experiment, to play. WHY OFFER THE PERFORMANCE NIGHT FREE OF CHARGE? ➤ Performance Night operates on a non-curated basis, eschewing judgment in favor of inclusivity. By limiting submissions to the first 8 entries, we sidestep the pitfalls of canonization, ensuring diversity and spontaneity in our lineup. This approach liberates us from the constraints of uniformity and predetermined expectations regarding form, content, or professionalism. Embracing contingency and unpredictability, we open the door to limitless possibilities. The evening remains free as a collective effort, sustained by the contributions of all involved — organizers, performers, audience members, and venue hosts alike. Let's nurture this shared endeavor, fostering a space where freedom thrives within a supportive framework. Together, we uphold the essence of our community, cherishing our collective autonomy and creative expression. IS THIS WHERE ORBÁN BASHING AND SYSTEM SMASHING GO DOWN? ➤ No, Performance Night isn't a platform exclusively reserved for anti-establishment discourse. While we encourage taboo-breaking and critical thinking, divergent opinions are welcome, even if they challenge mainstream narratives. However, if you're performing, we urge you to uphold freedom of expression and individual liberties, respecting the distinction between political activism, political art, and propaganda. It's essential not to impose personal beliefs on others. In essence: express yourself freely, but do so with consideration! Over the past year, we've cultivated an audience that's wonderfully diverse, spanning age, culture, and ideology. This diversity enriches our event, and it's something worth preserving. Let's work together to ensure Performance Night remains a space that's free, inclusive, and respectful of differing perspectives. Let's refrain from turning it into a platform for any specific political, religious, or ideological agenda. Let it remain what it is: a beacon of freedom, inclusivity, and acceptance. "PROVOCATION IS NOT THE POINT"
Interpretations of "experimental" and "radical" vary widely. For us, it's about being genuine and personal. Others see it differently, and we embrace the diversity and sometimes contradictions in responses. However, it's essential to emphasize that there are no set expectations here. Your work doesn't need to be provocative, contemporary, or feminist. Nothing is obligatory! We're interested in your voice, your perspective, your world, your aesthetics, your interpretation. Something authentic that isn't driven by trends or forced provocation. "NO AWKWARD, NO SHIT" It's a truth rarely spoken publicly, but nearly everyone secretly agrees: contemporary art can be mind-numbingly dull. Why? Because it often lacks risk and stakes. Courage requires a supportive environment, one where you feel safe to explore personal issues, experiment freely, and defy aesthetic and conceptual norms. Unfortunately, much of what we see today is sterile, conformist, and uninspiring—a symptom of an arts education system that prioritizes uniformity over diversity. Our Performance Platform aims to be different—a space free from expectations or judgment, where anything goes, and everyone can be themselves. "EXPERIMENTATION" True experimentation is diving into the unknown. It's starting something without a clue where it'll lead, using tools you're not familiar with, and embracing the unpredictable. You're not seeking beauty or effectiveness; you're venturing into uncharted territory. It's risky, filled with failures, but also with wonder and surprises. For our Experimental & Radical Performance Platform, bring your doubts, uncertainties, and creative crises. Embrace the journey, and clarity will follow! "CONTEMPORARY FORMALISM" "Contemporary" isn't a rulebook—it's about breaking free from expectations. Don't conform to trends or seek validation. Trust yourself, your instincts, and your vision. Don't let anyone put you in a box or dictate your art. Bring YOUR art to this Platform—raw, honest, and unapologetically you. It's not about concepts or academic jargon—it's about YOU and your expression. That's what truly matters. "SUSTAINABLE ART" In an industry plagued by overproduction and overconsumption, our profession mirrors the excesses of any market. Projects proliferate due to systems prioritizing their creation over presentation and dissemination. Yet, there's a scarcity of exhibition space, audiences, and attention. Our Performance Platform aims to tackle these issues head-on: How can we rethink the intense production characteristic of the arts sector? Is "sustainable art" achievable, and what defines sustainability in a project? How can the performing arts become more conscious and responsible, and who should drive this change? What strategies are needed to rebalance the skewed relationship between supply and demand, and how can we reach a 'market equilibrium'? "WORKING TOGETHER INSTEAD OF COMPETING" We're not adversaries; we're allies! Collaboration, community, solidarity—these are our guiding principles. The world and our profession can be harsh, but they're also incredibly rewarding. Believe in yourself and your work; don't let others dim your enthusiasm or control your path. Stay true to yourself, and don't get swayed by distractions. With this Experimental and Radical Performance Platform, we emphasize listening, supporting, and uplifting each other. Let's unite, stick together, and build a strong community! Living, creating, thinking, and acting in community is increasingly popular today, especially in the artistic and activist worlds. However, adopting a critical approach and questioning "received ideas" and apparent truths invites us to delve deeper into this rhetoric. Does joining a community mean sacrificing individual will for collective will? Is it about hiding the “I” behind the “we”? What happens to personal voice and identity? Does it mean fading into the group, minimizing oneself in relation to others, dissolving into the collective, and always seeking compromises? Does this resonate with you? Exploring community and gender: What is the relationship between community and gender dynamics? How do traditional gender roles and biases play out in communal settings? Preventing societal dysfunction in communities: How can we ensure that the dysfunctions of contemporary society are not reproduced at the community level? This includes considering values, organizational structures, and ethical standards. Community as an escape: Is belonging to a community a way to escape individual decision-making, responsibility, solitude, and the challenges of adulthood? How do we balance communal support with personal growth? Communitarianism and emotional dependency: What is the relationship between communitarianism and emotional dependency? Does reliance on a community hinder emotional independence and personal development? Leadership and communitarianism: How does being in a community impact the emergence of leaders, particularly women leaders? Could communitarianism inadvertently suppress the development of a new iconography of female leadership? Reinventing individualism: Instead of solely focusing on communitarianism, shouldn't we also consider reinventing individualism outside the capitalist framework? How can we cultivate a form of individualism that promotes personal freedom and creativity while still valuing community? These questions urge us to critically examine the true essence and implications of living and creating within a community. By exploring these complexities, we can strive for a balance that honors both collective and individual needs. Let’s engage in this dialogue and uncover the deeper layers of what it means to be part of a community. What does community mean to you? Many artists are paralyzed by the fear of not succeeding, which prevents them from even trying. This fear can be deeply ingrained, stemming from early life experiences where failure was met with harsh criticism or punishment. Over time, this can create a mental block that convinces you that failure is a reflection of your worth as an artist. The fear of failure can also be amplified by the competitive nature of the art world, where rejection is common and success can feel elusive.
At the School of Disobedience, we create a safe and supportive environment where we encourage experimentation and risk-taking, helping you to redefine failure as a stepping stone to success—whatever success means to you. It's crucial to see failure as an opportunity for growth and learning. Failures don't define you; how you respond does! Embrace the idea that each failure brings you closer to your true potential, providing valuable lessons that help you refine your craft and strengthen your resilience. A successful workshop is not necessarily one where we laughed a lot, where the atmosphere was pleasant, where human relations were easy, and where we had a good time. For me, a successful workshop is a useful workshop—a space where we learned, unlearned, and relearned things, regardless of the circumstances.
There is no hierarchy between theoretical, practical, technical, or methodological workshops, just as there is no hierarchy between lexical knowledge and personal experience. They are simply different entry points, each valuable in its own way. The question is not what you learn in a workshop, but how you learn it. The role of a teacher (Unlearning Facilitator) is not only to transmit knowledge, tools, experiences, but also to invent a framework, to choreograph a context that encourages individual initiative, responsibility, and independence. A useful workshop is one where we make progress compared to ourselves, not others. It’s a place where we are encouraged and respected, where we can move forward and grow at our own pace. It’s important to remain open to the idea that sometimes the learning and unlearning will come from unexpected sources, and the lesson may not be where you anticipate it to be. What is a teacher? Here at the School of Disobedience, we call teachers "Unlearning Facilitators." They are not your friends or parents, and you don't have to like them either. "Unlearning Facilitators" are not here to please you; they are here to facilitate the process of growth and transformation. This process can take many forms—a tool, a method, or an experience—that helps you progress in your artistic or personal journey.
The key question is not only what an "Unlearning Facilitator" teaches, but also how they teach. Their role goes beyond imparting knowledge and experiences; they are tasked with creating a climate of trust that encourages both learning and unlearning. They raise questions and challenge what seems obvious, fostering an environment where true growth can occur. The idea of the convergence of struggles ("convergence des luttes") sounds appealing, but in reality, it often serves to dissuade, exhaust, and dilute small-scale grassroots initiatives. This stems from the misguided belief that success is tied to size. But what if success had nothing to do with scale?
Building a coalition in the pseudo-independent, highly competitive, oppressive, and toxic local activist milieu often means being swallowed by an opaque machine with unfocused ambitions. This process can lead to abandoning original objectives for a supposedly nobler, transversal goal. But is there really such a thing as a noble or nobler cause? Are causes subordinate to one another? Is one goal more important than another? According to whom? Political activism is not about subsets or hierarchies. There are no "sub-causes" or "main causes," no cause-pyramid or cause-hierarchy. Such notions are nonsensical. Activism isn’t a pie where other initiatives reduce your impact. You don’t have to unite just because someone else is involved. More people together doesn't necessarily mean increased effectiveness. Political activism isn’t an entertainment industry; it’s not about ticket sales. The number of participants doesn't inherently determine success. Joining a coalition often means scaling up. While you may seem louder on the outside, internally, you may start to feel an echoing emptiness as the space becomes increasingly hollow. Have we sacrificed our essence to unite when we were already united in spirit? We aimed to grow but have shrunk in essence. There is always a critical mass in political activism. The language around coalition-building, reminiscent of capitalist logic, pushes small organizations and grassroots initiatives to grow, develop, and expand. Yet, it’s clear from the outset that if a small organization outgrows itself, it will sooner or later lose its voice, its way, and its heart. Given this, is the push for coalition not a deliberate strategy to cannibalize, a demagogic weapon of internal destruction? We don't need to grow to exist. We don't need to unite to have a stronger voice. We don't need to be loud to be visible. We don't need to be visible to make things happen. The two most effective weapons in political activism today are free and legal: invisibility and unpredictability, both privileges of small organizations. This may be why there’s such a cult of coalitions and why cheap tricks are used to absorb and then destroy small organizations. Small organizations are dangerous when they remain small, but when they grow, they only become loud. The soul is lost in growth. When an artist creates a series of photographs, a painting, or even a performance piece, she typically refers to it as an "artwork." However, when the same artist creates something living that addresses community, social, or political issues, it's often termed a "project." This classification remains significant whether the creation has a material dimension (such as a performance that lacks physical form) or lacks a price tag (as with land art or public space interventions). Why is classification, nomenclature, and naming crucial when challenging categories, boundaries, and hierarchies across genres? What lies behind this naming mechanism?
Community projects operate with a radical artistic language and form, deeply rooted in reality with a concrete and tangible impact. Unlike object-based art, a community project can straightforwardly answer questions like "what is this about?" or "what is the purpose?" Although its language might be abstract (as in dance), its intention remains clear and understandable. In many respects, community art is more democratic than other art forms; it avoids speaking in cryptic messages to a privileged segment of society and instead "grounds" itself in everyday life. Perhaps this simplicity and accessibility are precisely why it's excluded from academic and institutional discourse. Community art possesses genuine substance, asserts interests, and has a tangible impact at both individual and societal levels. It stands as one of the few art forms today that is liberated in its thinking, effective in its methods, and a threat to established power structures. A delicate butterfly immediately evokes the concept of "transformation," often framed in Western thought as a stark "before-after" dichotomy.
Rooted in monotheistic traditions, Western dualistic perspectives tend to polarize the world into opposing forces. It's a worldview where there are "good guys" versus "bad guys," where you're either "with us or against us," and where outcomes are often seen as leading to "heaven" or "hell." Socialization within such a dualistic system can foster an authoritarian and intolerant view of reality, where conflicts are central and only one way of understanding truths about the world is deemed acceptable. Any alternative viewpoints are frequently marginalized, suppressed, or erased. Systems of oppression like white supremacy, patriarchy, misogyny, homophobia, xenophobia, and religious bigotry thrive on this binary "either/or" thinking, relying on comparison, opposition, and exclusion. The School of Disobedience emerged from a vision to co-create a world that transcends these dualisms, embracing ambiguity, nuance, and shades of complexity. We cherish the spaces in-between, where uncertainty and doubt coexist. Our mission is to liberate "transformation" from its rigid "before-after" confines and adopt a pluralistic perspective, honoring diverse thoughts and perspectives as sources of richness and vitality. Join us as we collectively envision and construct a more inclusive and nuanced reality. |
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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