Isabelle Schad: The – political – reflection, is it in my eyes or in the piece I am watching?
Forough Fami / December 2024.
I have been acquainted with Isabelle Schad for a long time, dating back to my Bachelor studies at HZT. Since 2023, I have had the chance to collaborate with her as a performer and be part of her Mobile Ensemble.
This fall, alongside a group of fellow dancers, I had the opportunity to participate in the physical training for Isabelle Schad’s piece Mirroring. I am pleased to share my reflections on the piece in this commissioned text.
Mirroring is a solo dance piece by Isabelle Schad in collaboration with Josephine Findeisen which premiered in Berlin in November 2024.
Beyond the integration of the martial-arts principles and techniques which are usually strongly present in Isabelle Schad’s creations, this work embodies other elements that open the work up to metaphorical readings as well.
Mirroring defines a world inhabited by the solo dancer Findeisen. Beige-green mats and two rows of free-standing black walls delineate one corner of this world space. The rest is deliberately kept open in the direction of the audience.
The solo protagonist moves playfully within and on the edge of this world. She moves on the mats, and hides/rests under them. There are metal plates leaning against the walls and on the floor between the mats.
As Findeisen moves in this empty world, she mobilises her reflections from different directions in the metal plates with their different mirroring opacities.
The piece derives its name from the functions of these heavy plates, which Findeisen sometimes carries, wielding them to illuminate the space, or uses as a starting platform for the movements or as tools to create an image of another self or a hybrid body.
Throughout the piece, Findeisen’s movements and presence oscillate between two personas.
At times she is playful, engaging the audience with gestures of kindness and warmth, embodying a figure of connection and openness. At other moments she incorporates focus and resolve, channelling the technical rigour of martial arts.
As I watch these personas reflected in the mirrors, something unfolds for me spatially. Through these personas I recognise two intersecting vectors: the vertical, rooted in gravity and discipline, and the horizontal, rich in openness, affect and emotional resonance.
This spatial recognition influences my perception and how I continue relating to the piece. I assume Findeisen’s movements are organised around these two vectors and that these qualities intersect and hold the piece.
Sitting in HAU3, at the back of my mind I’m busy with the intersection of discipline and emotion. For some reason – perhaps due to the dark amplified resonances of current political realities – the combination of vertical and horizontal vectors makes me think of what I can imagine as a resistance model in the world outside of the theatre. A model in which practicalities – actions, strategies and logistical frameworks – and affects – emotions, relational dynamics and empathetic engagement – could coexist and weave sustainable yet resilient nets. Checking the programme note, I find no overt message or prescriptive narratives.
I’m intrigued! In front of a world opened up by Isabelle Schad and Josephine Findeisen, I trace back my thoughts. How have I ended up with these thoughts, here? And what quality of the piece is facilitating these projections?
I look around me. I try to imagine what other audience members are seeing and in which direction their thoughts are wandering.
I’m brought back to the piece by Findeisen’s voice. She’s kneeling towards the audience between the edge of a mat and a metal plate and is sensually projecting a subtle high-pitched feminine voice into the space. Her face is down and her long hair covers her face and front body. The voice continues during the engagement of her hands with her hair. Her gentle strokes gradually transform into repetitive sharp ones. One moving image dissolves into another; caresses transform into martial movements as if she is cutting out strands of hair.
Her voice merges with the rough industrial electronic soundscape, which gradually unravels, losing its rhythm and structure. As this soundscape dissolves, the ending hints at the beginning and the protagonist finds rest beneath the same mat from which she first emerged.
As Mirroring concludes, I’m still in a suspended state of reflection, adrift.
I’m contemplating the differences between possible artistic approaches to political discourse. Is the political confined to the explicit?
In critical times, like now, there is a crucial necessity for direct and clear positioning. Yet I also feel the urgency of practicing relationality – of fostering connections and openness to avoid the pitfalls of rigid frameworks and fixed stances. These two approaches – direct positioning and relational practising – are not oppositional but complementary; they must coexist.
This brings me back to the vectors of Mirroring: discipline and affect. There is an affinity between these qualities. Discipline reflects the structure and resolve required for direct action, while affect embodies the openness and emotional engagement necessary for connection and dialogue.
While Mirroring does not explicitly present itself as a political work, I experienced it as a constructed world deliberately open – a playground for practising relational reflection.
As I leave the theatre with the rest of the audience, I find myself still curious to know how they experienced it? Is the – political – reflection in my eyes, or in the piece I was watching?