Cultural nomad Maria Kardash talks about her impressions of the dance-research residency in Malý Berlín

Another resident who stayed in Malý Berlín and worked here on her research is the Ukrainian Maria Kardash. In the interview, the interdisciplinary artist and dance anthropologist talks about her experience working in Little Berlin, about the fact that it was not the first time she had worked with our cultural centre, and also about what made her a nomad.

Maria, is it true that this is not your first experience with Malý Berlín? When were you in contact with our cultural centre in the past?

It’s actually a story of luck, coincidence and friendship-induced networking. Malý Berlín invited a good friend of mine, also a Ukrainian dance researcher, Mariia Bakalo, to participate in a panel discussion on dance under totalitarian regimes in Bratislava in May this year. But at that time Mariia would have been on her studies in the USA, so she suggested reaching out to some of her Ukrainian colleagues, including me. And then one day I got an invitation from Malý Berlín to represent Ukraine on this panel discussion instead of Mariia. And then in May I went to Bratislava to talk about dance. But somewhere in between these two points in time, I’ve also discovered that Malý Berlín hosts a longer summer residence for artists and researchers and decided to apply for that separately. And then, as you know, it was some kind of luck again: my project wasn’t selected first, another researcher arrived at this residence but only stayed for a month, and then I was invited to Malý Berlín again.

I know that you come from Ukraine, but you don’t live there anymore. Can you tell us more about your work?

Addressing the first part of your question: unlike for many of my compatriots who were forced into the nomadic life after the full-scale war began in 2022, mine was a deliberate choice. Already since 2011 I occasionally stayed abroad for long-term work or volunteering, but then in 2018 I was able to study Dance Anthropology via Erasmus Mundus – this type of master’s programme where you spend each new semester in a different country – and my life has never been the same ever since. After graduating, I came back to Ukraine for a half a year but then went abroad again – first with the ESC (European Solidarity Corps) long-term volunteering (literally jumping on a last train as I turned 29 and these kinds of projects are for people in their 18-30s), then on an artistic residency, then with a research fellowship, then with another research fellowship and so on, until this path brought me to Trnava.

I work at the intersection of arts and academia: as a performer, I dance and take part in theatrical projects, and as an anthropologist, I research the cultural context in which the dance takes place. Lately I’m much more focused on research than on performing, and exploring topics far beyond the realm of performing arts. I study how different communities engage in the process of othering and make the division into Us and Others, how the ideas about the ‘civilisational’ East/West divide arise, how we as Westerners define what is ‘exotic’. Even though these themes are quite broad, they also come out of my dance practice, or, to be precise, from my observations of how non-western dance forms are perceived in a Western context.

In your work, you also examine the politics of the body and dance in the USSR, with a focus on Ukraine. What makes this topic so interesting to you?

The USSR Dance Politics is one of my long-term research projects. The thing is, dance is usually considered to be less politically ‘charged’ than other forms of art. Very often it is perceived as pure entertainment, something that people do or watch for fun. In fact, like any form of art or social activity, dance can become a vehicle for cultural propaganda. I study in which way the state-supported Soviet dance ensembles operated, what kind of images they produced and how they were perceived when they toured abroad. Let’s say that this research is my humble input in deconstructing the machine of Soviet-Russian propaganda. 

Besides that, any kind of dance reflects a particular socio-historical context from which it has emerged and can tell a lot about the society that performs this dance. Studying how people moved in the USSR (I would even say, how they were allowed to move) helps to understand the present-day Ukrainian context better: how my generation moves, what movements we have inherited from our parents and grandparents, and how we actually feel in our bodies. 

What convinced you to come to Trnava for the residency?

I had a good experience with Malý Berlín in Bratislava, so I was really happy when I got an invitation to come back, now for a longer period. I had already made some arrangements for the summer though, so I travel around quite a lot, but I still enjoy the moments that I spend here.

As I said before, I am a nomad – I never miss a chance to go on a project in a new country. Slovakia will be the ninth country I have stayed for at least two months in (before it was Turkey, Cyprus, Norway, France, UK, Poland, Hungary and Austria). And I do believe in the power of networking – for me, it’s of great importance to connect with professionals from the cultural field and to engage in some local projects (like when Maly Berlin suggested I moderate a discussion on dance performance at The Teen Theatre Fest in Trnava). It’s about making a difference, bringing some change to the local community, but also changing and evolving myself as a person. Here I have plenty of time to work on my own stuff, but I also learn a lot from the space itself. I´ve said before that I’m much more engaged in research now than in performing, right? I don’t know, maybe it’s the atmosphere of this place, but here I often feel the urge to create. I’m going out for an evening walk, and then I find myself dancing somewhere on a bridge. If I ever produce a video result of these walks, I will call it “Actually, I was supposed to write an article but here I am dancing in random places in Trnava”.

How do you like Trnava and Malý Berlín so far?

I joke a lot that Trnava is a calm and lovely town in Slovakia, but apparently everything that happens in Trnava, happens right under my flat. Living right at Nádvorie in the summer is not for introverts, for sure. There is something happening every week if not every day: a concert, a festival, an exhibition. So, my advice for future summer residents: prepare to be sooooo engaged in the cultural life of Trnava! Eventually, you will find joy in it even if you are an introvert: watching a world-class jazz concert from the terrace of your apartmentwith a glass of wine is quite a unique experience (and then the world-level jazz musicians try to steal your chair from this terrace – also a unique experience and definitely a funny story to remember). I know I might sound sarcastic, but I actually enjoy having so many activities during this residence as a bonus to the main ‘package’. I would even say it’s a privilege. 

Please reveal what exactly you are working on in Trnava.

Even though I applied for a project on Soviet dance, I’m working on something different right now. In fact, the way the panel in Bratislava unfolded has pretty much determined the topic of the article I decided to write for Malý Berlín. During that discussion in May, I began to wonder why under the declared topic of ‘Dance under Totalitarianism and After’ we were discussing only the high-art-western-canon kind of dances – ballet derivatives loosely labeled as ‘modern’ or ‘contemporary’ dance (why loosely – because I’d say that all the dances practiced in the present moment reflect this present moment and therefore are ‘contemporary’). As an anthropologist, and no less as a person exposed to non-western cultures through work and personal communication, I have a much broader understanding of what dance is and what kind of dance deserves to be studied and discussed in panel discussions. Surprise – all kinds of dance! I would even say all kinds of human movement – for example, with fellow dance researchers in Ukraine we have been talking about new kinds of social choreographies (collectively repeated movement patterns) that emerged with the start of the full-scale invasion, like massively going to the shelters during air alarms. So that’s what my article will be about: where and how we draw the line between dance/movement that falls into the category of art and dance/movement that is missing some qualities to be considered art’ from the westerner’s point of view.

Ján Janočko

Photo: Lívia Martvoňová