Interview Directory 

DÜSSELDORF/IN FOCUS

Name: ZOE

Occupation: Interdisciplinary performance artist and curator

Residence: Düsseldorf

“Inspired by the debates surrounding #MeToo, the parallels with witch hunts became evident to me, and I developed a theatre piece that illuminates historical and contemporary forms of persecution – with bodies that are hunted, accused, and turned into scapegoats.”

AM: The first question concerns the precluded possibility of legal rehabilitation and your perspective on our performance in the context of historical injustices. What are your thoughts on this?

ZOE: The story of Helena and Agnes has profoundly moved me since I stumbled upon it. In 2017, inspired by the debates surrounding #MeToo, the parallels with witch hunts became evident to me, and I developed a theatre piece that illuminates historical and contemporary forms of persecution – with bodies that are hunted, accused, and turned into scapegoats.

My research into Düsseldorf’s role repeatedly led me back to these women. I perceive the absence of legal rehabilitation as a glaring injustice. It is incomprehensible to me why this should be deemed impossible. I am an artist, and the only thing I can do is to draw attention to this through my artistic and cultural work, demanding at least an emotional and spiritual correction and rehabilitation.

“This demonstrates how universally this injustice is understood and, concurrently, how great the need is for non-institutional, spiritual communal experiences.”

The response was overwhelming. My colleague Sophie Yukiko and I, with whom I conducted the procession, expected merely a few interested individuals from our artistic circle, perhaps twenty curious onlookers, yet at times hundreds joined us. It was remarkable to see how a distant fate touched so many people. This demonstrates how universally this injustice is understood and, concurrently, how great the need is for non-institutional, spiritual communal experiences. Some came and went, but the significant participation underscores the desire for rituals unbound by dogma. This realisation motivates me to continue.

That sounds impressive. Your piece FEMINA SAGA also addresses the theme of witches. Was this your largest project at the Theatre Museum?

At the Theatre Museum, yes. However, the first version of FEMINA SAGA was co-produced by Tanzhaus NRW and premiered there in 2020. FEMINA SAGA was my first intensive artistic engagement with witches. My new role as a mother interrupted further work, and then the piece vanished into obscurity due to the stringent lockdown.

Last year, I revived and developed it further, focusing on the history of the mother or the maternal body in comparison to the witch’s body. There were several performances with large audiences. Nevertheless, the dynamism in public spaces, such as during Walpurgis Night at the Theatre Museum, is unique, as we reach people who typically avoid theatre venues. I found this particularly valuable, as it provided access to a broader audience.

You plan to continue the work from the Theatre Museum. What ideas are you pursuing?

My colleague Sophie Yukiko is currently researching the history of processions and their distinctions from demonstrations, uprisings, or other forms of protest. In our recent research, we have, among other things, explored the practice of parades and celebrations, such as when people gather to pray, demonstrate, or celebrate.

“Inspired by the procession at the Theatre Museum and research specifically addressing Afro-diasporic cultural heritage, we could envision continuing politically-artistic parades that engage a broad community.”

Inspired by the procession at the Theatre Museum and research specifically addressing Afro-diasporic cultural heritage, we could envision continuing politically-artistic parades that engage a broad community. In Germany, such projects are challenging due to bureaucratic regulations, as registrations and safety requirements are necessary. Yet the response demonstrates their potential. Everyone felt included, and we aim to further develop this format to make political and artistic messages accessible.

The legal situation regarding juridical rehabilitation is essentially hopeless due to the dissolution of the Holy Roman Empire in 1806. Could your engagement revive the debate?

I believe it could. I am rather spurred on when someone says, “No, that’s not possible,” and I think to myself, “Why should that not be possible?” It is part of my practice to experiment with things others deem unrealistic.

“I am rather spurred on when someone says, ‘No, that’s not possible,’ and I think to myself, ‘Why should that not be possible?’ It is part of my practice to experiment with things others deem unrealistic.”

My entire philosophy and way of life are considered unrealistic by some. Yet if we believe that things or laws cannot change, we would not be where we are today in debates about sexism, women’s rights, racism, or queerness. This progress, including new laws, had to be actively, vocally, and sometimes uncomfortably demanded. Other countries, for instance, have enabled the rehabilitation of alleged witches despite similar obstacles – why not here? Persistent and vehement advocacy can effect change. Laws are not divine decrees but human-made, and where there is a will, there is a way.

It is also about who obstructs change. Past discussions showed little interest in rehabilitations. For example, a theologian spoke of “partial guilt” on the part of victims in the case of Helena Curtens and Agnes Olmans – during a witch hunt. Such victim-blaming makes me utterly furious and underscores the urgency of this debate. There are forces that wish to prevent reckoning, and this must be questioned.

What feedback did you receive from visitors, and what were the emotions?

Many perceived the performance as a moving ceremony, particularly LGBTQ individuals. I am a spiritual person and believe we all have a spiritual need. I also believe we require new spaces that are not heavily laden with ideas and ideologies, where people can practise together.

Some asked whether we could organise such rituals more frequently. The gratitude for this space, where grief and joy could coexist, was palpable. Dr Sascha Förster, the institute director, initiated the project with the idea of a “processional” performance. He truly has brilliant ideas and consistently provides space and resources to experiment with new concepts and formats. The collaboration with the Goethe-Institut also arose through Sascha, for instance, through the exhibition of witch-hunting books from the 16th century, of whose existence I was previously unaware. Such knowledge, in my view, should not languish in archives but be made accessible to the public to enable participation.

The motto “Show your inner witch” was central to the event. What does this mean to you?

The call came from Sascha, and I initially thought, “What shall I wear to address the theme authentically and respectfully?” But at the end of the day, I am a witch 24/7. It makes no difference what I wear. At the same time, I found it delightful that some adhered to a clichéd, pop-cultural image of witches. Others portrayed a carnivalesque image. Some arrived in an “historically accurate” look, reminiscent of medieval attire. One man came in a wizard costume, for men can be witches too.

“The archetype of the witch is a feminine archetype, and I believe it is also important to designate and portray it as such. The causes of witch persecution are complex, yet it was predominantly a systematic hunt for female individuals, accompanied by an obsession with and demonisation of female sexuality.”

The archetype of the witch is a feminine archetype, and I believe it is also important to designate and portray it as such. The causes of witch persecution are complex, yet it was predominantly a systematic hunt for female individuals, accompanied by an obsession with and demonisation of female sexuality. This legacy remains palpable today. Being labelled a witch was once a death sentence. Even now, people in other countries are persecuted for alleged witchcraft. Concurrently, identifying as a witch today can be understood as an act of self-empowerment. Anyone can claim this archetype, regardless of gender identity, for it stands for female emancipation, non-conformity, and resistance. It represents feminist values. It is about not remaining silent, not diminishing oneself, being expressive and vocal, and trusting in oneself.

I find it very interesting that you also identify as a witch.

I believe the witch archetype is something with which I have always more or less identified. The witch is someone I feared as a child, for instance, due to Disney’s animated depictions of witches. Yet I was simultaneously fascinated by her, because the witch was always a woman who practised magic and let no one and nothing dictate what she should do. She was not a people-pleaser.

“At the same time, I was fascinated by her, because the witch was always a woman who practised magic and let no one and nothing dictate what she should do. She was not a people-pleaser.”

She did not care about being liked. She did not care about conforming. She was fully aware of herself and her power and had no fear of wielding it. I always found that fascinating and aspirational. The appropriation of the witch archetype came later, initially through external attributions, sometimes with a wink, sometimes with admiration, but sometimes with negative connotations. At some point, I thought, “If so many people see this in me, if I feel drawn to this archetype, and if I respectfully identify with the history of this term and find great richness in it – artistically, spiritually, and humanly, as a woman, as a Black person, as a mother – then I can simply call myself that.”

“This appropriation became a source of artistic and personal strength. The witch represents a self-assured woman who defies patriarchal norms, which shapes my identity.”

What role did the theme of misogynistic violence play in your procession?

It was the primary impetus for the procession and the ritual. It was intended to be a celebration, a funeral march, and a protest. On one hand, we celebrated Walpurgis Night, a festival associated with wild, untamed, lustful women dancing naked on a mountain and holding orgies. Yet women who claim their sexuality and live self-determined lives are still labelled as witches, sluts, or whores today.

Although #MeToo recently triggered a feminist wave that reignited debate about misogynistic and particularly sexualised violence, we are now, seven or eight years after the hashtag, experiencing a backlash, as right-wing nationalist sentiments grow, reinforcing traditional values and notions that fuel racism, marginalise queerness and diversity, and dictate how a woman should be.

In recent years, there have been numerous cases of sexualised violence and abuse, such as the case of Gisèle Pelicot, which, like many others, utterly devastated me. It clarified where women face the greatest danger. Misogynistic violence does not occur in a dark park or because you wear a miniskirt, implying complicity. Misogynistic violence is most often perpetrated by men close to you, who are supposed to be trusted figures, and it occurs systematically.

Since the pandemic, femicides have increased globally, as people were isolated at home, heightening the potential for domestic violence. It sounds absurd, but even Agnes Olmans was accused of witchcraft by her own husband, leading to her death. Times have changed, but certain dynamics and mechanisms have merely transformed, become better disguised, and not dissolved.

“A witch hunt describes the persecution of powerless individuals for acts they did not commit. In these cases, however, powerful men with resources use the term to portray themselves as victims, despite evidence against them.”

How do you apply the term “witch hunt” in contemporary contexts, such as in cases like Sean “Diddy” Combs or Rammstein?

The term “witch hunt” is often misused to deflect allegations of sexualised violence, for instance, by influential figures like Donald Trump or Sean Combs’ lawyers. A witch hunt describes the persecution of powerless individuals for acts they did not commit. In these cases, however, powerful men with resources use the term to portray themselves as victims, despite evidence against them. This is insidious, as it distorts the dynamics of violence and power and obstructs the debate on sexism. It is also profoundly disrespectful to those who were genuinely victims of witch hunts.

The case of Sean Combs reveals the extent of systematic violence that went unnoticed for decades, despite numerous complicit individuals. I see something similar with Rammstein, where, despite the discontinuation of legal proceedings, a systematic cover-up is evident. Such cases underscore that the discussion about misogynistic violence and sexism is far from concluded. It is shocking that such acts can go undetected for decades, revealing a significant societal issue.

Where can we see you next?

On 24 September, I will present FEMINA SAGA – Genesis at the Ludwig Forum for International Art, Aachen. On 31 October, my new production will premiere at Tanzhaus NRW, addressing Afro-diasporic realities, anti-racist, and colonial themes with a spiritual focus. As a workshop leader and curator, I am also active, particularly in Düsseldorf.

Are you supported by the city? How difficult is it for you to secure commissions?

Düsseldorf provides me with a solid foundation, as I frequently collaborate with municipal institutions and represent the city externally. Nevertheless, the arts scene is becoming more challenging, as funding in North Rhine-Westphalia and Germany diminishes while competition increases.

As a solo artist with temporary projects, building a stable team or company is difficult. It was somewhat easier in the past, but the pandemic and motherhood have altered this. Additionally, funding often demands innovative, trendy projects, whereas I prefer sustained themes, such as engaging with the phenomenon of witch persecution, which inspire new ideas. Sustainable structures are lacking in the performing arts, complicating the work. Nevertheless, I am grateful to continue developing my art.

“Düsseldorf, as the site of the last witch burning in the Rhineland in 1738, bears a particular responsibility to address this topic.”

Düsseldorf, as the site of the last witch burning in the Rhineland in 1738, bears a particular responsibility to address this topic. I hope that the history and underlying mechanisms receive a larger platform, as issues of misogynistic violence or the concept of a scapegoat always intersect with other discriminatory dynamics and systems of dominance that ultimately affect us all as a society.

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