Kristin

It was founded by me and a friend of ours, Nkeny Bakilam Nsangong. We often attended dance classes together, performed, and became friends. Originally, we had the idea to offer dance sessions specifically for trans people – that was our first joint project. We organized solidarity events to raise money for rent and other small expenses, allowing us to offer a session every week for a while. However, since that was a lot of work for us and entirely voluntary, we later reduced it to individual events like workshops, film screenings, or talks. Nkeny, Rey, and another person – Elia Dullnig – organized a ball as trans*motion. At the same time, Rey, Xava, and I started with performance art – and that’s how we ended up at the residency in Innsbruck.

Kristin

They were usually very open. We prepared inputs, but not as much as for a dance class. There was always music, free dancing, and especially networking and exchange – many conversations about what it could mean to think differently about dancing and bodies. We asked ourselves how movements or language can be more inclusive for trans people – how you can deal with dysphoria – whether as a participant or a leader. We want to create spaces and find ways to change movements or processes to enable people to dance and feel comfortable in their skin, even when they often feel discomfort with their own bodies.

Rey

For me, it’s a lot about being in the moment and switching off while dancing, not thinking about how others see you or what they think about you – for example, judging certain movements or whatever. So, being completely for yourself and feeling what feels good in the moment. For me, dancing is also a way to release all my feelings.

Xava

For me, it’s similar. It’s also a way to let go of control and not always be in that contained mode that you’re in during everyday life. Letting go of that controlled, outward-focused, communicative state. It’s more about feeling inward and being aware of yourself. In everyday life, that’s often difficult, but when you dance, you can let those things go. It’s also something playful, which generally has too little space – to play around. There aren’t many moments where you can intuitively perceive things and follow them. Often, dancing feels like expanding anew – physically or in awareness.

Rey

It’s also a lot about joy and connecting with other people. I think one of the most beautiful things about the dance floor is – you are dancing, someone else is also dancing, and through the dance, you are connecting with another person. Even if you don’t know the person, in that moment, you just feel incredibly connected.

Xava

Yes, and it’s also a way to take up space, which can feel really great.

Rey

And a way to impress (everyone laughs).

Kristin

I believe that dancing can have a significant impact for trans people. Especially in the dance traditions we are part of – like drag shows, in the ballroom, or at private parties – there are techniques designed to make the body appear more feminine or masculine through posture, regardless of how you look. Moreover, you can even change your body through that. You can physically change it through muscles, but you can also feel it differently through movement.

For me, dancing in an earlier phase of my life was also a place where I could forget how my body "should be," where I could dissociate a bit from my body in the movement – pushing the mind away from the body. This way, the issue with one’s own gender identity fades into the background – at least for the moment. Because, usually, you can only change your body if you go through certain hurdles and have a lot of money – and it’s often very painful. But you can always dance. No one can stop you from that, and it doesn’t cost anything.

In an earlier phase, it was also about the question: Can I feel, live out, and understand through movement where I want to go with my body?

Rey

Our last project was already connected to this; it was called "What Comes After the Storm?" – it was related to transition: the beginning of transition, being uncomfortable and confusing in a way – and the question – what comes after that?

Xava

On one hand, that. And the second thing related to it is conflicts – also within the queer community. Because there are many different types of conflicts and oppositions. And the question of negotiations – and what comes after.

Kristin

The performance series "What Comes After the Storm?" also emerged – or was shown – with the film "Mutt" by Vuk Lungulov-Klotz. We watched the film – and it’s a great film. But it shows this young trans man – it depicts his life on a chaotic day, where he is mostly helpless and alone. And that’s where we got the idea, as a contrast, to show this togetherness, the support, the understanding for each other... It was also a question: What future do we want to dream of when all these difficulties are not there anymore?

Our current work, which still focuses – more than ever – on togetherness and community among each other, is also connected to that. But EBBE/FLUT now deals not only with the beautiful things but also with the difficult ones.

Xava

One more addition regarding the mentioned film. It’s about a trans man, who is also the only trans character in the film. And that was exactly a starting point for us, because this narrative occurs so often: There is a trans person – and everything is tragic for them. We wanted to create a contrast to that. Like, yes, it’s difficult – but it can also be beautiful. And that’s often not told. I feel like many don’t even want to see that – because they prefer to consume tragic stories.

Kristin

I’m also interested in – when difficulties are shown, it’s often about the difficulties people have with us. And that eventually becomes no longer an interesting or productive conversation for us. That will also be much more present in EBBE/FLUT – where we aim to represent the conflicts among ourselves; where we have our situation as a starting point instead of the perception by others.

Xava

What comes to mind spontaneously is, on one hand, comparison – when it comes to desirable goals/body goals or norms within the trans community, where there is a lot of comparison about how one can have a "more successful" or "more adapted" transition. That’s a conflict theme.

Kristin

What you just said fits perfectly with your character in the piece.

Kristin

The characters all reflect an emotional state that we all experience – but all in different ways. One character deals with anger and aggression, another with sadness and apathy, and another with control and self-optimization. All have different histories and different traumas and coping strategies. That’s why they often argue – and often in a way where they are all right, but also all a bit toxic.

Xava

We started working together almost exactly two years ago. I think what has characterized our work the most has been a lot of spontaneity and short-term planning – often without much time for preparation, with spontaneous ideas as a starting point that we immediately worked on. Compared to other processes I’ve been involved in – where you write a text for months or revise a passage, discuss it, and throw it out again – that has never really happened with us. We usually work very intuitively. Also in the piece – especially in our solo parts – much came about very spontaneously.

Rey

It’s also easy for us to find material because we simply draw a lot from our daily lives – there’s enough there.

Xava

And in the implementation – we come from very different contexts, also artistically, and that’s really nice. We bring that together and work transmedially. In my case – since I’ve worked a lot with video and film – I often bring in technology, livestreams, and projections. That’s really cool because we can mix so many media. And that has also emerged quite intuitively. I think we never said: "We are making a transdisciplinary piece."

Kristin

For me, it’s that I have performed a lot in nightlife or in music videos – things that don’t necessarily have much to do with visual art. The pace there is more: many small, quick projects instead of big, long ones that constantly change.

Xava

We work more intuitively with themes that interest us. Regarding the rain theme, for example: There was a massive thunderstorm in the film we watched, and that was also a reason why we became interested in the thunder theme, because it conveys a lot – drama, oppositions, tensions.

Kristin

With the titles, we also think poetically about what a utopia could look like. "EBBE/FLUT" is already similar to "What Comes After the Storm?"; it has similar elements. Then came the idea of dancing to sounds like thunder because water, for example, makes great sounds. We often stay with nature as a metaphor for emotions and personal situations.

Kristin

We were able to connect with the community mainly during the workshop. I found it nice that some people were here – we don’t know anyone here. But even if there are only a few people, it means so much. Like one participant said that she thought she might have to leave early because of dysphoria, but then realized that it was really good for her and she stayed until the end. That’s exactly my goal: that people who think they won’t go to a dance class have the opportunity and have a positive experience. That’s why I do this. And that’s also the connection I didn’t want to miss in Innsbruck. That was the idea behind it. Otherwise, I currently have my head full of many tasks that need to be done for this piece. But I would also like to connect more.

Xava

I find it really exciting to perform in contexts of smaller cities because it brings a completely different crowd. The offerings are lower there, but at the same time, trans people exist everywhere. And it’s a nice feeling to be part of creating and finding spaces – even outside of your own bubble.