Danila Lipatov and Karen Zimmermann, Josephine Findeisen: on the dance floor, in the time of (inter)national crisis
Forough Fami / March 2025.
January 2025. Time to Meet! A format in which R.E.D. Residency artists at Tanzfabrik have the possibility to open the process of their residency. This time; Enchanted Islands – A Pantomime by Danila Lipatov and Karen Zimmermann and Luxus für Alle by Josephine Findeisen.
Work-in-process sharing is one of my favourite formats. It provides the audience with more space for reflection, active engagement and dialogue with the work and the makers.
Through the conversations here and there, I realised that the R.E.D. residencies happened in the summer of 2024. Inevitably, I think about this gap between the actual residency and the moment of these presentations. I think about this gap and to what extent the atmosphere of the world, Germany, Berlin, art and dance scene has kept changing. The changes have been radical and fast, politically and ethically taking darker turns.
In this particular time – I assume like many others – I have been having mixed feelings about stepping on the dance floor, either as a dance artist or as a spectator.
I allow these mixed feelings of mine to accompany me in both showings.
Enchanted Islands – A Pantomime
On 16 January, Danila Lipatov and Karen Zimmermann, offer glimpses of Enchanted Islands – A Pantomimethrough a screening followed by discussion.
They invite the audience to watch an episodic experimental video documentation of their process. The video documentation is a collage of performed (dramatic) events inspired by Yevgeny Charitonow’s pantomime play. Each episode carries a distinct form and content, with a touch of comedy.
Coming to the showing with aforementioned thoughts about being on the dance floor, I find the first episode as fertile ground to dig into.
The first episode serves as a collective prologue, showcasing a group engaged in pantomime tasks with exaggerated expressions — playfully childlike, yet serious, silent and grounded-ly joyous.
It is interesting for me to watch how through consciously crafted aesthetics and carefully chosen camera angles, the video captures the essence of their shared effort as well as introduces the performers. By zooming in and out of the collective activity, the visual perspective mirrors the layered nature of collective work and brings the audience close to every member without singling out anyone in particular.
It reminds me, of an unspoken promise of the dance floor: visibility and care. I think about the dance floor and how in some dance communities, it has been more than just a protective surface, providing both visibility and care. I reminded of how it has managed to spread the logic of sensitivity towards each other and the other moving bodies, practice the inclusion and caretaking. I ponder over how the dance floor has become a standing point for collective activities in the recent past, while also providing the artists with individual visibility.
Could I be romanticising? Yes and No. There is no doubt that within the dance community, there are plenty of issues to be considered, criticised and changed. But perhaps in the difficult times, like now, besides the legitimate criticism, thinking about positives and the path which has been taken, helps to keep moving.
it reminds me, of an unspoken promise of the dance floor: visibility and care.
Luxus für Alle
One week later, on 23 January, Josephine Findeisen hosted a reflective space. The evening starts with her short solo dance on sweet techno music and follows around another performative element; a champagne tower.
A large champagne tower is placed on a table covered by a black fabric. “Was ist Dein Lieblingsessen? Luxus für Alle Bourgeois Gaze Capital Taste” is one of the four texts written on the sides of the black tablecloth, in punk graffiti style silver spray paint. For me, this setting already sets a subtle paradox which creates a thought-provoking contradiction.
To check my reading, I looked it up online, for the connotations of the champagne towers and to no surprise it affirms: “they are more than just an eye-catching centre piece or a cascade of delicious bubbly; they symbolise the pinnacle of luxury and opulence. The champagne glass distribution of wealth is a dramatic statement of unfairness, displaying that the very wealthy have the widest portion, while the poorest have the narrow stem. Hardships abound at many levels of society, while others live in wealth and luxury and have superior resources to enrich themselves further.”
Later, with the help of some audience members, the glasses are filled with champagne on dry ice causing the temperature of the room to drop. The small pieces of dry ice start to move and tinkle in every glass of the tower as the glasses are filled, causing a buzzing sound and a thick heavy fog to crawl down from top to the base.
This buzzing sound lingers as the event transitions into a group reading and discussion. Together, we read excerpts from Öffentlicher Luxus by Communia and the Bundjugend. The text advocates for a society where luxury is shared rather than exclusive, aligning it with political theories and collective struggles that envision a reconfiguration of wealth and resources. The juxtaposition between these notions and the champagne tower—historically a symbol of privilege—feels striking, especially when thinking of the unexpected which happened just before the group reading starts.
While being filled, the champagne tower collapsed. It is not due to a structural flaw in the glasses or the unsteady hands of those pouring. It falls because it has been placed on a dance floor.
The metaphor is potent. A structure designed to represent hierarchy and exclusivity didn’t stand on a space meant for movement, collectivity, and shared experience. The dance floor, a site of bodily negotiation and fluidity, rejected the rigidity of the imposed system.
Dance floors usually offer energy return, meaning they slightly rebound when pressure is applied. For dancing bodies, this quality makes jumps and turns more efficient. In this case, however, the subtle shifts in weight and careful steps of the pouring hands were amplified and transferred to the table, causing the top parts of the tower to collapse. While this same responsiveness may have supported Findeisen’s solo at the beginning of the showing, the fall of the champagne tower was certainly not part of the plan.
The metaphor is potent. A structure designed to represent hierarchy and exclusivity didn’t stand on a space meant for movement, collectivity, and shared experience. The dance floor, a site of bodily negotiation and fluidity, rejected the rigidity of the imposed system. The champagne tower’s collapse is not merely an accident; it became a poetic statement, a tangible response to the evening’s themes.
In the end, both evenings left me with reflections extending beyond dance as an art form. Although, I kept thinking about the accessibility of dance—who it speaks to, who and how far it includes—but in times of crisis, perhaps stepping onto the dance floor, with all its contradictions, remains an act of both reckoning and hope.
![](http://stream-writing.de/wp-content/uploads/2025/03/EnchantedIsalnds_FotobyNaraVirgens1-1024x768.jpg")
![](http://stream-writing.de/wp-content/uploads/2025/03/Luxfuralle_FotobyMartinPilz-626x1024.jpg")