RESEARCH IN FRAMEWORK 

• A poster inviting conversations about pleasure.
• A community-created book launch, paired with soup inspired by the book.
• A date with chocolate and grapes to discuss consent and intimacy.
• A meal framed by the phrase, “At the table, we don’t talk politics.

Seat at the Table: Reclaiming Space for Women

In conjunction with the exhibition Women of Amsterdam: an ode by the Amsterdam Museum, Tabili presents A Seat at the Table: Reclaiming Space for Women. This interactive installation is inspired by the historical exclusion of women from decision-making spaces and important cultural conversations.

The table, a universal symbol of community, dialogue and inclusion, serves as a platform to acknowledge the women excluded and honor their contributions. You are invited to reflect on a woman-present or past-who deserves “a place at the table.” Answering a series of reflective questions about this woman's influence, you can share your thoughts on bills, which are then attached to the tablecloth with paper clips.

As part of the experience, you can take a fortune cookie. Inside, you will find a suggestion of a woman in your life-such as a mother, colleague, aunt or friend-about whom you can write, as guidance for your reflection and participation in this collective tribute. This act symbolizes how the stories and legacies of women are woven into the fabric of our society. Each bill gives these women a physical and symbolic place at the table, reclaiming their rightful space in history and culture.

This installation also celebrates themes of resistance and empowerment, highlighting how women have fought and earned their right to be heard and recognized.

For example, one most crucial parts of my research and my role as an artist is how I invite people to the table.

INVITATIONS

The Space of the Table

"Put the topic on the Table" "Poner los temas sobre la mesa"

Inviting my audience to the table, a shared space for connection through food and conversation on a specific topic. 

Like theater, which tells stories in time, my scenography uses the table to create time-based moments where the audience and collaborators come together in shared action and dialogue.

I explore the dynamics of the table—how it brings us together and "forced" shared moments, simply by eating.

I want to  play with the unspoken conventions of different tables, such as a family table, a dinner table, or a Date able, etc.... blending these rules with theatrical and performative elements. 

Experiment with the elements, like how to invite people, how to receive people, where to put the coats, how to serve food, which food you serve, how this food was cooked, etc... Each experiment plays with a different aspect of these elements, around the table. 

The table is my stage, a place where food, stories, and interactions converge.

FOOD 

THE TABLE 

Rituals:

 Art as a collaborative practice.

The artistic approach emphasizes creating spaces and works that invite and thrive on collaboration—with communities, other artists, and creators whose skills complement my own. I believe in blurring the lines between artist, audience, and participant, fostering connections that make creation a shared experience.

I am drawn to projects that begin with the intention to collaborate and the openness to learn from others. (I always learn everything true others) 

For instance, working in Rotterdam with Ran or  Anping creating a peace that mixes all-hour skills or Fatima highlighted how our diverse skills—especially in building social connections—enhanced the dinner we organized together.

Collaboration also extends to my personal life, where relationships with family, friends, and romantic. Relationships inform my art. Partnering with my mother or my brother’s girlfriend, for example, brings a sense of love and intimacy to the work that is an important part of my process. Mixin personal life with professional. Collaborating with friends that I just want to spend time together. 

Engaging directly with the "audience" is another key element. Whether it’s making empanadas, crafting paper, or mapping spaces together in Tj, these shared acts of creation build a collective experience that enriches the process and the outcome.

Even in scenography, I focus on designing tools and spaces that inherently require collaborative actions that can’t be achieved alone but come to life when created together. For me, the act of making is always more powerful when it is shared.

Working in collaboration is what makes me leave my bed in the morning happy and excited to work. 

The table and the archive are central to my artistic practice, each serving as a space for connection, dialogue, and preservation. The table acts as a stage where food, conversation, and performative elements converge, fostering collaboration and shared experiences. Meanwhile, the archive ensures that these fleeting moments are captured, remembered, and given new life through reinterpretation.

By inviting people to the table, I create shared, time-based interactions shaped by the dynamics of communal meals. Whether it’s hosting playful conversations “under the table” and framing a meal with the phrase “At the table, we don’t talk politics,” I explore how food and dialogue can make space for difficult yet essential conversations. These interactions often challenge societal norms, blending personal and communal experiences.

The archive complements this work by documenting these moments and preserving the stories, voices, and objects tied to them. For instance, I’ve captured communal dinners by creating alterable sculptures of spoons or preserved the essence of a gardening community through handmade paper. The archive becomes a living, evolving repository that allows these experiences to be revisited, reinterpreted, and shared with broader audiences.

Together, the table and the archive bridge the present and the past, inviting collaboration, dialogue, and preservation. By creating spaces for interaction and tools for memory, I aim to empower participants to engage deeply, keep important conversations alive, and carry these shared experiences into the future.

Intro 

The table and food as a spatial mediums for bringing together in collaboration communities were to invite Difficult conversations in a "SAFE" way. ARCHIVE this act and share it with external audiences. 

I wanted to experiment with different spaces and ways of guiding archiving and sharing conversations --> true experimentation I concluded with elements I use in my research. 

https://www.researchcatalogue.net/editor?research=3140279&weave=3140364

The table and food as a spatial mediums for bringing together in collaboration communities were to invite Difficult conversations in a "SAFE" way. ARCHIVE this act and share it with external audiences. 

The table and food as a spatial mediums for bringing together in collaboration communities were to invite Difficult conversations in a "PLAYFULL / INTERACTIVE" way. ARCHIVE this act and share it with external audiences. 

Audience / Collaborators/spaces

I am deeply inspired by the idea of creating communities—moments that bring people together to engage in conversations about the unspoken, the overlooked, and the shared experiences that define them.

My work often involves collaboration with communities, where I am invited to participate in the intimacy and unique dynamics of their spaces, or where I work from within as an active participant, or as an invitation to participate in something related to the topics in the community, or like a listener and activator of topics that are there but not talked. 

The act of preparing and sharing a meal becomes a moment of connection, centering the essence of a community.

—Dani Zelko

The Procedure

Some practices and formal decisions that have constituted the way Reunión works

I travel to cities, towns, borders and Indigenous lands to meet people and communities. I invite them to make a book through a process in which words are transmuted from oral to written and from spoken to read as they traverse bodies and spaces. People speak to me and I write their words verbatim by hand. Each time they pause to inhale, I start a new line, creating a new verse. Recording is forbidden. In the following days, we read the text together and reach a final version that is then typed and made into a book. The full texts are read aloud by the participants in public events. Then the books begin to circulate: half the copies are distributed by communities in their own territories and half the copies are distributed elsewhere. Free digital and audiobooks are made available online. Each book necessitates its own distribution that accounts for the specificity of its territory and context, the political, social, cultural and ethical intentions of those involved, and the material conditions of the people they need to reach.

A brief history of Reunión:

First Seasons (2015 - 2017)

At the beginning of this project, I traveled aimlessly and invited random people to participate in Reunión. The publications took the form of zines that were printed with my backpack printer, a small backpack with a desktop printer inside. Each zine contained around 16 pages that featured the words of one participant. Once the zine was printed, neighbors, family members, and friends were invited to a public event where each participant read the full text while seated in a circle of nine chairs. Everyone who came to listen received a zine as a gift. Later that same act was extended to other places, where the poems were read by spokespersons: people who lent their bodies to read the poems of an absent person in a circle of nine chairs. During this phase the procedure was consolidated: “At first, in an encounter, spoken word is transformed into written word. In the end, the poems make possible a get-together in which word becomes oral. The poems are happy: they are at last between two persons instead of two pages.”

Over this period, 18 zines were created by participants aged 8 - 73 in different parts of Argentina, Bolivia, Cuba, Guatemala, Mexico and Paraguay: Akim Chan Kayún Mendez, Andrés Neuman, Gerson “Montaña” Rodriguez Irala, Rigo, Patricia Bautista Roa, Edson Trujillo, Melina Abigail Nuñez, Vicente Grandos, Juana Petzey, José Luis “Crespo” Jacobino, Lucía Emilia Gomez Sheng, Pirge, Cath, Miguel, Freda Gonzalez Portieles, Luis Ángel, Francois Dave Junior, and Carina Juarez. Carina Juarez.

Urgent Editions (2017 - present) 

In 2017 Reunión ceased to move at random and started to work among communities and people that have been constructed as public enemies, suffering explicit violence like murder, eviction, criminalization, stigmatization. 
In this current ongoing phase, Reunión intervenes in concrete moments of grief and tension, where the workings of the powers-that-be collide with the potency of resistances. 
The procedure becomes available to those who need it. The encounters open a shared temporality for awareness, collective self-reflection, and the mutual exploration of strategies to continue living. Books become an experimental object of direct action. I stopped using the backpack printer; now the books have at least 50 pages and a minimum of 1,500 copies of each are printed. Altogether these Urgent Editions set up a present-time archive of counter-narratives. 

¿Mapuche Terrorist? (2019-2022). After 150 years of genocide, a new generation of Mapuche people who were born in impoverished neighborhoods got together to declare: “We are not poor, we are Mapuche, we will recover our ancestral lands, our language, our ceremonies, our authorities.” They are leading a process of political spirituality that has no precedent in what is now called Argentina. They are being marked as internal enemies and as terrorists by the State and the mainstream media. In this book, the Mapuche community Lof Lafken Winkul Mapu tells for the very first time their own version of how the State security forces murdered Rafael Nahuel, and they make it known widely that a new Machi is rising in the community, the first one in the Puel Mapu in almost a hundred years.

North Border (2017-2018). In the midst of a new wave of migrant caravans traveling towards the United States, 13 people who were forced to flee their countries in the Global South seeking a new life in North America share their experiences. “Migrants are being constructed as political enemies.” “Migrants are being incorporated into the discourse of war.” “Migration is the very dispute of what we call borders.” “Migrant caravans are an uprising! a rebellion!” “To migrate is to begin a new story for your life.” 

Juan Pablo by Ivonne: A counter-narrative to the Chocobar doctrine (2018). On December 8, 2017 in Buenos Aires, police officer Luis Chocobar shot and killed Juan Pablo Kukoc, an eighteen-year-old who had stolen a camera from a US tourist. Macri’s government portrayed Chocobar as a hero, inviting the citizenry to “take justice in its own hands” and kill all “pibes chorros,” non-white youth that wear caps and sports clothes and listen to loud music. The State took this murder as a slogan and started to call its repressive policy the Chocobar Doctrine. The case marks a turning point in the post-dictatorship period in Argentina: a neoliberal government once again pushes the limits of State violence and strains the collective process for Memory, Truth and Justice.

Earthquake (2017). On September 19, 2017, an earthquake struck Mexico City. The earthquake took place on the same day as the terrible earthquake of 1985. During the following days I set up a table with a computer and the backpack printer in different boroughs of the city, with signs that read: “Memory Collection,” “Talk to me and read yourself,” “Print your voice for free,” “Self-journalism,” “The present is confusing.” People spoke to me, I transcribed their voices and read the text aloud to them in that same moment. They took as many copies as they wanted to spread their words.

The Hotel is a Body. Four Legendary at the Gondolín. (2021). Hotel Gondolín is a hotel created and run by travestis in Buenos Aires that for decades has served as a refuge for trans people who migrate to the city. Four of the legendary founders of the Hotel, travestis who fought against police violence and struggled to gain the first national rights for the LGBTIQ+ community, pass their memory on to those who are inventing themselves as transgender people today.


 

"Put things on the table"

The topics I am most interested in exploring and "bringing to the table" revolve around difficult conversations. I see my role as an artist—and the role of art itself—as creating mediums or spaces to approach challenging topics without discomfort. My aim is to invite people to engage with subjects they might otherwise avoid, offering a "safe" environment where these discussions can unfold openly and constructively.

I believe that any topic can be addressed, but the way we approach these conversations matters.  This openness often leads to greater understanding and confronts misunderstandings through genuine dialogue.

Listening has always been a key part of my learning process, and I strive to create opportunities for people to share their experiences and perspectives. These exchanges not only shape my understanding of the world but also form the heart of my artistic research: finding innovative ways to facilitate uncomfortable yet essential conversations.

For example:

• Hosting playful interactions, such as discussing difficult topics " under the table."
• Exploring themes of transition, like graduating or leaving a beloved space, by creating art that leaves a personal mark.
• Commemorating loss, such as a woman bringing flowers for another who had recently passed, and incorporating this into a project about allotment gardens.
• Discussing intimacy and sexuality through the tactile process of casting body parts.

By creating spaces and experiences that encourage open dialogue, I aim to not only address these complex topics but also empower others to keep these conversations alive.

The Archive

The archive is a powerful tool in my artistic practice, serving not only as a record of time but also as a way to give weight to moments, stories, and voices. Through archiving, I assign importance and relevance, ensuring that histories—especially those often overlooked or unheard—find their place in our collective memory.

Archiving is also my way of documenting a piece and deciding how to share it with external audiences who were not part of the original moment. The way I stage and present the archive becomes a crucial part of my practice, shaping how the work is experienced and understood by others.

An archive grants value and space to voices and experiences, while also remaining dynamic—a piece of time that evolves. It can be revisited, reinterpreted, and transformed with new meanings as it grows.

Examples of this in my work include:

• Archiving a fleeting moment in a friendship with a Polaroid picture.
• Preserving conversations through a sculptural form, like a cast body part that embodies its content.
• Documenting a communal dinner by creating a sculpture of spoons that can be altered or added to over time.
• Capturing the knowledge of a gardening community through the process of handmade paper.
• Mapping daily experiences on an island as a class project to be shared with future generations.

For me, the archive is not just a repository but an active, living process. It shapes how the work is remembered, invites reinterpretation, and allows new dialogues to emerge—bridging the past and present for future audiences.

THE COLLECTION OF FEARS AND DESIRES 2000-PRESENT

Roos van Geffen 

Performance in public space 

“What is your greatest desire? What is your deepest fear”?

Roos van Geffen has been asking these two questions to people all over the world for more than 20 years. She types the answers on a card. Date, age, occupation and place of residence are also noted. The person who answers remains anonymous. The thousands of fears and desires recorded can be viewed on request. Van Geffen also gives performance lectures, in which she shares her collection of fears and desires with the audience. Roos van Geffen collected fears and desires from 2000 in Den Bosch, America, Maastricht, London, Terschelling, Enschede, Cardiff, Amsterdam, Almere, Swansea, Denbigh, among others.

I HATE TALKING: CONVERSATION ABOUT POLARIZATION, EMOTIONS, AND POLITICS

Public debate is becoming harsher, with emotions like fear and anger increasingly driving our interactions. Why can’t I stand your opinion? Why can’t we speak without getting angry? How do we coexist with people who hold entirely different worldviews? Julian Hetzel and Bart Brandsma will examine these questions at De Balie.

With the recent election victories by far-right parties in mind, we explore the boundary between constructive polarisation and unproductive conflict. Is polarisation and extremism best addressed from a moderate position, or does radicalism require a radical response?

This programma is the first in a series of thought-provoking encounters, dialogues, round table talks and artistic interventions by Studio Julian Hetzel and de Balie Amsterdam. The events deal with the relation between politics and emotions like love, hate, anger and fear. The events are part of the research for Three Times Left is Right, Studio Julian Hetzel’s new performance that will premiere on 17 May at Wiener Festwochen, Vienna (AT). The Dutch premiere is on 29 May at SPRING Performing Arts Festival Utrecht

VIDEO-INSTALLATIE IK ONTMOET MIJ

The existence of the soul in Caio - Hernán Casciari

Zacarias and I drink mate. All the time. At any time. The times we were about to separate, the times a new son came home, when he was fired from his job, when Argentina won the World Cup, when the twin towers fell down. When mom died... 

Between Zacarías and I there were days without kissing in the morning, weeks without speaking to each other, months without even a haircut, long years without a peso in our pockets. But there was never a single day in our marriage without him or me sitting in silence drinking mate.

Mate is not a drink, hearts from another neighborhood. Well, it is. It's a liquid and it goes in your mouth. But it is not a drink. In this country nobody drinks mate because they are thirsty. It is rather a habit, like scratching. Mate is exactly the opposite of television. It makes you talk if you are with someone, and it makes you think when you are alone. When someone comes to your house the first sentence is “hello” and the second one is “some mate?

This happens in every house. In those of the rich and those of the poor. It happens between chatty and gossipy women, and it happens between serious or immature men. It happens among old people in a nursing home and among teenagers while they are studying or taking drugs. It is the only thing that parents and children share without arguing or getting in each other's faces. Peronists and radicals drink mate without asking questions. In summer and in winter. It is the only thing in which the victims and the executioners are alike. The good ones and the sons of bitches.

When you meet someone for the first time, you drink some mates. People ask, when there is no trust:

-Sweet or bitter? The other answers:

-Whatever you drink.

I always write to you with my mate next to the keyboard. I read the comments with my mate next to me. The keyboards in Argentina and Uruguay have the letters full of yerba. Yerba is the only thing that is always there, in every house. Always. With inflation, with hunger, with military, with democracy, with any of our pests and eternal curses. And if one day there is no yerba, a neighbor has it and gives it to you. Yerba is not denied to anyone. Not even to old Monforte.

This is the only country in the world where the decision to stop being a boy and start being a man happens on a particular day. No long pants, circumcision, college or living away from parents. Here we start to be big the day we feel the need to drink mate alone for the first time. It is not by chance. It is not by chance. The day a kid puts the kettle on and drinks his first mate without anyone at home, at that minute, is because he has discovered that he has a soul. Either he's scared to death, or he's dead in love, or something: but it's not just any day.

End

BEAUTY STORIES SALON

DYING HAS BEGUN