(A) Do you have comforting memories that helped you shortly after the abuse? This can be people / pets / situations, but also something small like a hug at the right time. If so, could you describe it?  

(I) I find that a difficult one, I told my parent very late. So at that time I had no use for them. I did tell my colleague, because my situation occurred at work. I have had a lot of support for the colleague who helped me. I told my best friend first and she often helped me and asked how I was doing. I got the most support and comfort from her. I deliberately didn't tell many people because I didn't want to be found pathetic. I also did not want to be supported, because I was still denying it. If it just happened, people are busy with it, a lot later a lot less. The colleague I told him continued to do check ups with me, that was nice. My best friend went to the police. She planned that and took me by the hand. That was concrete support. It felt good. 

(A) Do you have specific moments of fearful memories that came from your experiences? If so, could you describe one?  

(I) Because it was a colleague of mine, I was very afraid at the beginning that I still had to work with him or that I would come across him unexpectedly. We had the same position, but he had additional duties that allowed him to walk freely through the city and get to all departments. He still had access to me. He was driving a white car. I didn't know the brand, only that it was small and white, so I was afraid of all white cars. Recently, I was eating out with my new friend and in-laws, and then I thought I met him, that he entered the restaurant. It turned out to be someone completely different, but then my entire evening was immediately ruined. I feel anxiety or tension in my forehead. it bundles up there. I prefer not to go to the city alone. I have the feeling that I have to look around all the time. If I am with someone else I have less problems with that. Then I feel safer. 

(A) Where in your body do you feel the pain / fear / shame that is related to your experiences? And where do you feel the power needed for the recovery process?  

(I) In the beginning that pain, those negative emotions, was in my lower abdomen. It is difficult to explain, I do not know exactly, but the strength is in my chest and shoulders. Since I am doing better, I have become a lot more right. My chest is pushing me up and it feels like that power is flowing from my chest to the rest of my body. It is difficult to describe. It comes from within, not from outside. 

(A) Do you still carry your experience(s) with you and do you embrace it? Or did you leave it behind and is it no longer in your body?  

(I) It varies a bit and it depends on how I feel. For me it is still fairly recent, so it feels as if I sometimes carry it with me and sometimes not. In the beginning I always carried it with me and I did not accept the feeling. Now I manage that better, but not yet completely. I have already left it behind more, but I cannot yet fully embrace it and accept it. I think I will carry it with me in the future and accept it. I can't shake it out. I myself am a social worker and I don't think therapy would help me. It would even have the opposite effect. Later when I still need it, I may want to go into therapy, but not now. 

(A) How does the force that you needed during the processing / recovery feel in your body? Soft, wavy, hard, powerful, bundled?  

(I) It feels powerful and I feel more confident again. It is present, but it is hard to describe, as if a sea is flowing through me. The force ripples from my chest to the rest of my body. 

(A) What do you feel when you look at your own body? 

(I) That is difficult. I don't really look at it anymore. I no longer look at myself to avoid confrontation. I have trouble looking at myself in the mirror. It is not that I look in the mirror and that I think "I look good." I miss that, I used to do that a lot. But now I only check if I look presentable. I had poor self-esteem for my abuse experience and I worked hard to improve it. But my self-image has been crushed again by my experience. 

When I look at myself, I always hear that man in the back of my mind. That is too confronting for me, then I better not look in the mirror. That voice repeats itself in my head. When I go to the gym and I take a physical exercise class, it is always in a room with mirrors. I then stand at the back, so I don't have to see myself. 

(A) When you think of your experience (s), it is one total thought that you carry with you or a (physical) load / luggage? (In other words: Is the memory of your experience mainly nestled in your head or in your body?)  

(I) Oh, that's a difficult question, I think it's both. When I think back unconsciously, I think about it. But then I relive it automatically and then I also feel it physically. I immediately feel those hands everywhere. On my lower abdomen, my back, my breasts. That you feel your body makes you experience it every time. That re-experience is easy to trigger: A hand on my shoulder is enough. Recently a client asked me something and I reacted quite fiercely to that. "What's the matter with you?" People ask. A physical reminder makes the re-experience extra strong, and makes me feel dirty and guilty afterwards. 

(A) Is there a metaphor that you can think of that can indicate your recovery? 

(I) I used to watch a movie where there was a bird in a nest. All other birds flew out, but that bird was left alone. He only had to learn to fly, but didn't dare. He always fell out of the tree, but kept trying. Then he climbed the tree again and tried again. Eventually he succeeds. He flew. When I think about the other birds, I think, "Guys, come and help." I wanted help, but I didn't know what help I needed. I did know that I didn't want any help from people who were close to me. There is less emotion for me when I talk about it with someone I don't know. When I finally told my parents, they reacted very emotionally. My father was very angry and said he wanted to do something about the perpetrator. That was terrible for me. I wanted to just say it and not talk about it afterwards. I went to the police, but finally decided not to report it. The police asked very critical questions in my report, because a lawyer could do the same. They asked why I did not resist. They showed me screenshots of security cameras, but you can't see how he threatened me on those images. How he said what he would do to me if I didn't go with him. I am small and petite, that man was tall and wide. There was no point in moving. Ultimately, only a report was made. He received an official warning at work, but I was eventually fired. My then director believed me, but he made promises he could not keep. Because they could not legally dismiss him and the situation was not justified, I finally had to leave. It took 4 months before an official warning came. Costs that I incurred at the time because of the use of a mediator were allowed to recover from them. I had to wait 5 months until I finally got my money back. That meant that I didn't feel taken seriously and couldn't close it properly. There was literally another account open. 

(A) What did you develop? What are you extra good at because you have developed a double awareness? 

(I) I quickly understand the intentions of someone. I looked naive to many people. But what happened is not due to naivety. I worked for an aid organization, you assume that you can trust your colleagues. I am now less naive and more attentive. Whether that is positive or negative? I think both. I now experience it as positive. With some people I now pay more attention, I keep my distance. Especially with men. I'm on my guard when they come closer. I am less afraid of women, but I also keep my distance. I have noticed that women quickly have their opinion ready, can be underhanded. People gossiped about me at work. People wanted to know exactly what had happened. There were remarks like "she must have provoked it" and "she just wanted attention." Those were actually always men. 

I found it exciting to start dating again after my experience, because I didn't know how men would react to it. I finally told my new friend what happened and that I have limits that he must accept. He was shocked, but immediately accepted it. I was afraid he would find me a flaky sandwich, but luckily it wasn't. If I have a bad day, he understands that he should not touch me. 

If I had a daughter later, I would tell her not to be too naive. That she has to pay attention. Especially with people you trust. In most cases, they are acquaintances who become perpetrators, not the scary man in the bushes. If I had a son, I would tell him that no really means no. That he must respect limits. That would really be a basic principle for me that I would give in the upbringing of my children. 

(A) How would you like people to have reacted when you told them? 

(I) Not in the negative. I often have had the idea that I had to prove that it had happened. I would have liked it if people would say they were happy that I told them. Show understanding. I find it annoying when people ask for details. "What exactly happened?" I also learned that people did not believe me. "What do you want to hear?" I think. In retrospect, I dealt with it too easily, I should have stood up for myself more. I learned that now. 

(A) Do you have comforting memories that helped you shortly after the abuse? This can be people / pets / situations, but also something small like a hug at the right time. If so, could you describe it? 

(M) It gave me a lot of comfort when I heard the experiences of fellow sufferers. I was no longer alone. I also got a lot of comfort from running, which made me feel completely in control again. I also liked that others from my area wanted to listen to me. 

(A) Do you have specific moments of fearful memories that came from your experiences? If so, could you describe one?  

(M) I have anxious memories of the fact that I had no control at all. It is the scariest thing that ever happened to me, I was completely left to his mercy. The rape took place while walking, so I have bad memories of that too. Seeing his face is the most fearful memory for me. The trace investigation afterwards was also very annoying. I have nasty memories of it. In the past, these memories often came to mind at night. I had nightmares and woke up in a panic. 

(A) If you had to sign your processing process, what would it look like?  

(M) It is a drawing of myself that gives herself a hug. Others stand around it, all with a comforting hand on my shoulder. I would draw the processing process as an up and down line with peaks and troughs. 

(A) Where in your body do you feel the pain / fear / shame that is related to your experiences? And where do you feel the power needed for the recovery process? 

(M) My vagina and anus had become war zones. I couldn't look at it, let alone touch it. I often had pain that, according to care providers, was psychosomatic. According to them, that pain was not real and it was all in my head. 

(A) Do you still carry your experience (s) with you and do you embrace it? Or did you leave it behind and is it no longer in your body? 

(M) I carry my experience with me and embrace it. Sometimes it is very heavy, sometimes it is light and it feels great. It changes from day to day. 

(A) How does the force that you needed during the processing / recovery feel in your body? Soft, wavy, hard, powerful, bundled?  

(M) That power is a kind of inner glow of self-love. In the beginning it was very powerful and pushed me forward like a wind. Then it became softer and I prefer to be myself. I have experienced that power as a sort of primordial urge to get back on top. 

(A) What do you feel when you look at your own body?  

(M) I feel very satisfied now. I'm proud of my body. I have some scars from the automutilation that started as a result of my rape, but they also belong to me. They are proof of the hard fight I have fought to become myself again. 

(A) When you think of your experience (s), is it a (mental) thought that you carry with you or a (physical) load / luggage? (In other words: Is the memory of your experience mainly nestled in your head or in your body?) 

(M) Now it's mainly in my head. The bad feeling in my body is gone. I do feel that I have become stronger both mentally and physically through what I have experienced. 

(A) Is there a metaphor that you can think of that can indicate your recovery? 

(M) A poem that reminds me a lot of my recovery is "Dust if you must." In the beginning I could only lie in bed and do nothing. My life passed by me. Only later did I find the sense and energy to live again. 

Dust if you must, but it would be better 

To paint a picture, or write a letter, 

Bake a cake or plant a seed; 

Ponder the difference between want and need? 

Dust if you must, but there's not much time, 

With rivers to swim, and mountains to climb; 

Music to hear, and books to read; 

Friends to cherish, and life to lead. 

Dust if you must, but the world's out there 

With the sun in your eyes, and the wind in your hair; 

A flutter or snow, a shower or rain, 

This day will not come around again. 

Dust if you must, but bear in mind, 

Old age will come and it's not kind. 

And when you go (and you must go) 

You, yourself, will make more dust. 

by Rose Milligan 

Another poem that reminds me is the following. It reminds me that I am not a victim but a survivor. 

Do not stand at my grave and weep 

I am not there. I do not sleep. 

I am a thousand winds that blow. 

I am the diamond glints on snow. 

I am the sunlight on ripened grain. 

I am the gentle autumn rain. 

When you wake up in the morning's hush 

I am the swift uplifting rush 

Or quiet birds in circled flight. 

I am the soft stars that shine at night. 

Do not stand at my grave and cry; 

I am not there. I did not die that. 

by Mary Elizabeth Frye 

(A) What did you develop? What are you extra good at because you have developed a double awareness? 

(M) I started to pay more attention to my limits and don't just let me walk over me anymore. Sometimes I bite off a bit too hard, but that is the urge to protect myself. I now also know my own strength much better. I started running to process my experience and now run marathons. This helped me a lot, because I was working together with my body again after running instead of fighting it. This also taught me to listen to my body again. I could put all my emotions in it. Running is something incredibly beautiful that I have recovered from my recovery. 

(A) Do you have comforting memories that helped you shortly after the abuse? This can be people / pets / situations, but also something small like a hug at the right time. If so, could you describe it?  

(E) I was just a kid when it happened and I have no specific comforting memories of that time. I told no one then, so there was no one who could help me. I was particularly relieved when it was over. Only later, when I was about 15 years old, during a school trip did a classmate talk about how her stepfather had abused her. I then went to her at a quiet moment and told that I understood her and I told her that I had experienced something similar. It helped me to know that I was not the only one who was the victim of abuse. At that time I felt less alone in my grief. 

(A) Do you have specific moments of fearful memories that came from your experiences? If so, could you describe one? 

(E) Yes, every time he came by, I was scared again. I was abused by my babysitter, so I had nothing to say about when he would come by. I always tried to postpone the moment he would put me to bed as long as possible. Then I ran through the house or lay down on the floor and tried to make myself heavy. But I was 6 or 7 years old, he was around 18, I didn't stand a chance. That powerless feeling frightened me very much. I still find it difficult not to have control over situations. I am then inclined to compensate for another situation, such as my eating habits. I had moments in my teenage years where I noted my food intake and tried to eat as little as possible. To have control over my body. 

(A) Where in your body do you feel the pain / fear / shame that is related to your experiences? And where do you feel the power needed for the recovery process? 

(E) The shame is in my lower abdomen. It hides deep between my intestines and blood vessels. I hardly ever let it out, but when men come closer it takes over my whole body, like a fungus. I get cold and block them. I find it very difficult to let people in physically, unless I know that there are no feelings involved or when it is without sexual intentions. 

(A) Do you still carry your experience (s) with you and do you embrace it? Or have you left it behind and is it no longer in your body? 

(E) I carry it with me and I think I have almost embraced it. That I have almost completely accepted myself with the situation as it is. Even though I couldn't do anything about the situation myself, I'm still ashamed of it. I only dare to talk about it with people I really trust. 

(A) How does the force that you needed during the processing / recovery feel in your body? Soft, wavy, hard, powerful, bundled? 

(E) It can best be described as a primal force. Pure urge to survive. In that sense it is not soft, but it feels to me that that power was able to dose itself just right. As if it was something stronger and smarter than me. It kept me going and has brought me a step further in my recovery time and time again. I link it most to nature, to energy. Such as sun rays and running water. Elements that serve us and help us move forward. That power lives in me, I have received a large dose of it. Sometimes it is clenched in my fists, sometimes it pumps through my veins and sometimes it ripples gently through my vertebra to my toes. 

(A) What do you feel when you look at your own body? 

(E) I feel proud. Proud of this body which I have rebuilt myself. That I know my muscles well, that my skin shines and that it is a beautiful, feminine body. No one I don't trust can touch my body. I hate it when people are too close. I only want to share it with the people I love, who have proven to me that they will not damage my most precious possession, my body. 

(A) When you think of your experience (s), is it a (mental) thought that you carry with you or a (physical) load / luggage? (In other words: Is the memory of your experience mainly nestled in your head or in your body?)  

(E) For me, my experience is both in my head and in my body. I can block if someone touches me too much or too quickly, that is a physical reaction. In my head it goes very quickly then, I am afraid of what could possibly happen. I would rather run away really fast and never have to see that person again, because I don't want to explain where that blockade comes from. But of course that is not possible, so I have to try to indicate to them that my physical boundaries are a bit tighter than with most people. Because I struggle with that I often avoid situations in which such contact can occur. I am not someone who often has relationships. When I think about the situation I can feel a lot of powerlessness. Powerlessness and defeat, because I know that I can not change anything about how the situation was then. "What if I had this .." or "if only I had that ..." If I think about it, I can explain to myself that I have done nothing wrong. Yet I am not always smiling. 

(A) Is there a metaphor that you can think of that can indicate your recovery? 

(E) I see many metaphors in nature: A tree that loses its leaves and slowly blooms again, a frozen lake that slowly thaws, animals that go into hibernation and only wake up again in the spring. Time in particular was an important factor in my recovery. It took me about 15 to 20 years until I could call my body my own again. It has been an intensive and long process with peaks and lows and that I have sometimes been more and sometimes less aware of. 

(A) What did you develop? What are you extra good at because you have developed a double awareness? 

(E) I have learned to embrace my body again. I think I have learned from close contact with my body how to take care of my body and how to use it best, for example in my work as an artist. I am also very careful about allowing others into my life and I can "read" others quickly. 

The installation consists of six screens arranged in a circle. Five screens are placed vertically and one horizontally. As a spectator, you stand in this arena. The five vertical screens show the individual portraits of the five women, the horizontal screen shows a joint choreography. 

On the vertical screens of +/- 1.40 by 2.20 meters, the women become 'larger-than-life' and can be seen individually as they move over the beam; forward, backward, slow or fast. Each dancer represents a different quality, a different archetype. The older dancer walks backward, as if she's being pushed backwards. Looking back on her life, she re-lives the memories and sensations stored in her body, beautiful and difficult. Her wrinkled skin shows her experience, her flesh and scars the battles she had to fight.  

In a young woman we see an inner fire, an urgency to move forward, but her arms remain behind, as if someone is pulling them, as if her fire needs to be extinguished. It evokes vulnerability as well as violence, resilience and oppression. The key word for these individual portraits is resistance.  

The physical strength needed to combine the resistance experienced by the women as they walk over the beam with the balancing exercise that automatically comes with walking over a balance beam creates a paradoxical, charged physical quality. Their strength is always undermined by an inescapable, enforced caution. Their intention, the physical strength of their muscles, the focus and the breathing of the women are visible, you can even feel them through the camerawork and the enlargement of the screens. Their faces show the emotions that arise from the physical work and the resistance. The body is their archive, the medium, a means of communication and the carrier of their identity. They are embodied. As they embark on their personal, metaphorical journey, the beam shows the system to which they must relate as human beings, as women; an ever-present, oppressive context that does not seem to change individually. The beam ends where the spectator's feet begin. This is how the women walk towards them, into the real world. 

The horizontal screen does not show the individual struggle on the beam, as the vertical screens do, but shows the collective struggle of the women with the beam. This rhythmic, rousing choreography is a metaphor for their struggle with the system, with the patriarchy. The women balance alone, on tiptoe or find something to hold on to along the way. There is room for elegance and a commonly held image of femininity, but if they jump, run, move wildly, the stage disappears from beneath their feet. They fall, sometimes rebellious and planned, sometimes unexpectedly and dangerously. They always come back up. Wet with sweat and hardened by the battle, they climb back up onto the beam. The women demand space, even if it isn't there. They take risks, even if the fall hurts. With no concrete solution in sight, it is the women's effort, the development and cooperation they go through that makes their struggles intriguing, hopeful and inviting. 

In the end, we see a 10-year-old girl, a young gymnast with a talent for the balance beam. She has learned from the generations before her, from the mistakes, the risks and the victories of the women who fought for their space, their right to vote, for ownership over their bodies. She manipulates the beam, elegant and fearless. She is not free, the beam remains, but she is not afraid either. She is the incarnate representation of the courage, strength and hope I see in the new generation. The inclusive and environment-aware Gen Z, carrying an alternative future and the ability to transform systems. 

I have experience in creating work for theaters and in making dance film, but installation, in which time and space are an essential part of the work, I use as an expression for the first time in Woman's Work. This means that during the creation process I push the boundaries of dance and choreography known to me to research a new way of creating and translating my message and choreographic concepts. 

Form – installation  

My goal for Woman's Work is to activate and reflect an audience, in order to initiate change. The installation form contributes to this. I want to make the themes tangible in the work; show that there is such a thing as patriarchy, that it gets in the way of women and minorities and that feminism and fighting for a better future is not something frumpy or superfluous, but is fueled by seriousness, by urgency, violence, courage and hope. I believe that the installation form can contribute to the expressiveness of my message and choreographic concept. The magnitude of an installation form allows the viewer to experience a choreographic concept, instead of just looking at it. People step into the work, instead of being offered it. The installation is a loop, with no definite beginning or end. The audience is immersed in a timeless struggle and journey that, partly thanks to the rhythms and delay of the choreography and the trance-like music, becomes an almost meditative experience and asks the question; what is your role in this struggle? This experience contributes to the impact of the work, the awareness of the public and the impetus for change. I want to explore how working with installation can make my choreography function as a transformational experience. My goal is to give the audience a second chance when they walk out of the installation; the world awaits and needs them. The work helps it to sense this. 

I have two specific research themes that I address with Woman's Work: 

• The 'choreography' of the elements of time and space as an essential part of the installation form in order to allow the body and choreography to resonate extra. 

• Actively creating intercorporality to evoke an embodied viewing experience and reflection. 

Intercorporality 

Working with time (the course of the installation, the delay of the vertical canvases and the rhythm of the horizontal canvas), the use of space (the enlargement of the screens and the installation itself, in which the spectator stands in the middle), the rhythmic, trance-like music and the use of extreme close-ups of the body make Woman's Work a physically, deeply rooted experience. By combining the above elements with the body and embodiment as a means of communication, a connection is created between the bodies on the canvas and the bodies of the spectators. For Woman's Work I investigate how I can make use of what phenomenologist and philosopher Maurice Merleau-Ponty calls "intercorporality"; as a maker I address the body of the visitor through the bodies in the work. (Phenomenology of Perception, 1945). Watching the work goes beyond cognition, beyond our analytic right hemisphere and appeals directly to the spectator's body and instinct; the work should not be understood, but felt. The focus on this physical experience thus activates (the body of) the viewer, instead of paralyzing it with abstraction and analytical information. Experiencing Woman's Work thus becomes an embodied viewing experience in itself. 

Reflection – content and form brought together 

This embodied viewing experience produces a two-part reflection: Because the viewer sees the bodies on the canvas in an embodied way, he simultaneously experiences and considers his own body during the viewing experience. The work makes that one experiences one's own body as a subject, as a medium through which the world is experienced sensorily, as a personal source of interpretation and experience and at the same time as an object, as a body that can be seen by others and which relates as an 'object' to the other bodies and systems in the installation. The journey and the struggle of the women thus reflect in and on the bodies of the spectators; both the "embodied body" and the "worthless body" are mirrored. This allows the audience to reflect: How do they experience and interpret the beam over which the women walk? What role in society, what prejudice or privilege does the body in which they are born entail? How do they relate to patriarchy? 

By making Woman's Work an embodied viewing experience that activates and reflects, the work forms a critique of the objectification or 'devaluation' of the body; a way of thinking that has its roots in patriarchy and is propagated by, among others, the still generally accepted male gaze and neoliberalism. The metaphor of the beam represents these androcentric values ​​and exposes these systems that are hidden and anchored in our society. Woman's Work thus shows how rigid, ingrained and immutable certain patriarchal values ​​(seemingly) are. For me as an artist, revealing hidden systems and showing reality in a transparent and realistic way is what true beauty is about. At the same time, the work activates, inspires and motivates; it shows that fighting for a future with alternative values, a new perspective and a fearless generation is possible and worthwhile. 

French actress Adèle Haenel on why portraying 'strong women' in film is not the solution, or as I call it: peusdo-emancipation: 

Haenel: "This is why we’re creating the future. Nowadays, the producer or the project is a bit more more concerned about, “Oh, maybe this person shouldn’t just be an object, she can be the subject, as a woman.” So it’s more common now. But there’s a way to stop halfway, and just say, “Oh, we’re going to do a strong woman character that fights the world and makes it!” This is the problem. When you’re portraying that, you’re in a way, saying, “Oh, actually, the world is okay. If you want, you can make it!” To me, it’s violent to say that. It’s super that there are women superheroes, we need that. But to me, it’s a stop halfway. You are trying to say, “Okay, this world is bad, but not that bad. You can exist if you want.” It becomes not political, and tells you that you can be self-made." 

Source: www.vulture.com/2020/03/portrait-of-a-lady-on-fire-q-and-a-cline-sciamma-adle-haenel.html 

Extract from "Double focus: On the History of Women's Writing" by Sigrid Weigel. p.61  

"Women are... defined according to male criteria as regards their characteristics, their behavior, etc. Woman in the male order has learnt to see herself as inferior, inauthentic, incomplete. As the cultural order is ruled by men but women still belong to it, women also use the norms of which they themselves are object... woman in the male order is at once involved and excluded.  

This means for woman's self awareness that she sees herself by seeing that and how she is seen. She sees the world through the male spectacles... She is fixated on self-observation refracted in the critical gaze of man, having left observation of the external world to his wide-ranging gaze. Thus her self-portrait originates in the distorting patriarchal mirror. In order to find her own image she must liberate the mirror from the images of woman painted on it by a male hand."