Version 2.0

The Waiting Room | The Degrowth Performance Project


A waiting room and a reception, forms and questionnaires. You sit and wait until you are asked to enter one of the surrounding rooms. What happens in there? You might meet an advisor or a visionary, find yourself in an intimate conversation with a stranger, enter the public sphere or a world of fiction, alone or with others. In THE WAITING ROOM 12 artists challenge and play with social rules and expectations and create spaces to encounter man as well as the topics of the conference.

Produced by Diego Agulló, Peter Stamer, Clement Layes und Dimitry Paranyushkin.

Address: Schulze-Delitzschstraße 27, 04315 Leipzig


ROOM 102 | ROOM 103
In two different rooms friendly fire invite the visitor to take a look into the future – a future beyond the paradigm of growth – and a look to the forms of subjectivity connected to it. With elements of acoustic dramaturgy, video and live performance the visitor is guided to enter real and imaginary spaces. Doors into other rooms, to other lives and other times literally open for a travel through new perceptions, ways of acting and experiences, for a travel through a transitive in-between-situation that estranges the present in monstrous and ghostly ways: “Give me your hand …”


ROOM 105

1 Warm-up, prepare your body for an interaction that will be very challenging due to the limitations of space.
2. The two players, visitor and the performer, face each other. They become involved in the interaction. Every surface available is used as a medium of the interaction: the floor, the ceiling, the walls, the stove. There is no time to talk. Action is required.
3. Is the interaction cooperative or competitive?
4. I interact
5. Cool down


ROOM 202

Under a round roof of hibiscus-twigs,
in a circle of hair,
in a triangle of swathed sticks:
We sit in front of each other

In the Book of the Dead, under your own name,
the names of your Dead are listed.
This is your page.
I tear it from the grey booklet and burn it.
The ash is blown through a hole in the wall.
This hole leads to a dark room which cannot be entered.
A bricked-up nowhere.
The blown ashes trail away in the darkness.

I present you once again the open Book of the Dead that carries your name.
All names of the Dead have vanished, except for yours.
Underneath it, there is a fresh leaf of a maidenhair tree.
Take it with you.
The room smells of burnt paper, withering lilies, hemp fibers and silence.
I open the window.
Outside thunder and lightning.
Only for us.


ROOM 203
What happens once you have entered? Fräulein Bernd might plant flowers with you – and take it as a lesson in mindfulness. You might breathe together – because if you concentrate on breathing consciously, you learn how to perceive your own body – your instrument of change in the world. Tarot cards might be read to you: Where are you in life and what is important to you (now)? What comes up short and what you are sick of? You might go together on an imaginative tour to visit an energetic place, where you can feel well and sense your resources. Let´s see what happens, once you have entered that door.


ROOM 301

A room with two windows. A side table with a little lamp. A compass on the windowsill. A woman sitting in a huge armchair in a corner of the room. She is taking notes. “Welcome. What can I do for you?”
How do people react when they enter this room? Which emotions and thoughts come up? Which interactions occur? A game with a therapy-setting. An experiment between arts and therapy, focusing on the observer him- or herself. An area of tension where the own self is on stage. A room for quiet confusion, silence, tears, deep conversations, food for thought, emotions and knowledge from below that strive to the surface and might surprise.


ROOM 302

“Crisis Enterprise” is a business that is born from the crisis, lives on the crisis and bears crisis. Be it the financial, the environmental, the educational crisis or the crisis of growth – “crisis” is the most productive narrative of our times. Whoever wants to join the political discourse will have to tell stories about crises. “Crisis Enterprise” provides the professional tools of crisis rhetoric in exchange for your personal crises.

[Crisis Enterprise is a subcontractor of the INTERMEDIA ORKESTRA]


ROOM 305

A man in his 60s walked into the private room of the “Degrowth Waiting Room". He recently retired, was curious and open about what would happen. I asked him to look at the painting “The island of death” by Arnold Böcklin. We started playing an associative game, sort of dreaming while looking at the picture. Thanks to that man, this is what came of our game.

This is an island near Venice
This is true
It is a special island
It's an island only for men
For men and women
Only for men
It's an island for men whom are dead
It's the root of desire
What does it mean?
Lust ...
It's a cemetery
It's about love
Oh ...
Yes, it is about love
It is about love ok
It is about men
It is about men I loved very much
It's about men whom I loved


ROOM 306

Both messies (both wearing two ties) have brought everything into both rooms. Between totems from the everlasting time, where progress and growth appear in their happy melancholic states, visitors find themselves sung at, advised, played and danced for, accompanied by rough and fine tunes from cello, brass and percussive instruments. As always Beide Messies do not know anything but everything, and think or rather entertain harum-scarum or rather thwart, which can be considered as dance or music. A main question starts to (de)grow - about shrink vs. degrow, and "de" as in deviate. Both messies had to think both days about cultural benefit on one hand and accumulation on the other, as well as the economic criterion in the arts etc. a.s.o. None could see how Beide Messies took everything home again - in complete darkness.


ROOM 307

„If two, if three, if four men do not defend themselves from the one, we might call that circumstance surprising but nevertheless conceivable.“ I speak these words right into the face of the visitor as he comes in. A question marks his face. „If a hundred, if a thousand men endure the caprice of a single man, should we not rather say that they lack not the courage but the desire to rise against him?“ The man opposite of me withdraws from the door frame. At first he takes a resolute step towards the centre of the room but it’s me who doesn’t move. I don’t back off. He surrenders. „The people enslaves itself, cuts its own throat, it deserts its liberties and takes on the yoke, gives consent to its own misery, or, rather, apparently welcomes it.“ The man finds himself in the corner, interlaces his fingers in front of his belly as if to protect himself from what is still to come. I come very close now, break through his comfort zone. He can smell my breath now. „All this havoc, this misfortune, this ruin, descends upon you not from alien foes, but from the one enemy whom you yourselves render as powerful as he is.“ His eyes flicker insecurely but he manages to produce a wry smile. I don’t smile back. „How can he have so many arms to beat you with“, I walk towards the window, „if he does not borrow them from you?“ I let my last words sink in, pause. I go on with ‚the eyes we provide him with’, ‚the feet we lend to the tyrant’, I add ‚our fields he plunders’, ‚our daughters he rapes’, ‚our children he kills in war’. I speak up, retrace the events with my finger on the wall, invisible paintings of horror. I close my eyes, then peacefully: „Resolve to serve no more, and you are at once freed.“ Breathing out I take a step closer to him. „I do not ask that you place hands upon the tyrant to topple him over“, I look at him conspiratorially, „but simply that you support him no longer.“ He looks away for a second, I keep eye contact with him. Friendly: „Then you will behold him, like a great Colossus“, I hold out my right hand as if to mark something tall, „whose pedestal has been pulled away, fall of his own weight“, I place my hand that forms a fist in front of my mouth, „and break in pieces.“ I look at my fist, blow into it, open my finger as if letting go off something. I follow the invisible pieces with my eyes, then look at the man and say, firmly: "Etienne de la Boétie, The Discourse of Voluntary Servitude, 1574".


Format: Performance Explanation
Track: Art / Kunst

Language: German
Available languages: German, English



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