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It all began roughly twenty years ago, when I found myself developing a curatorial practice as director of If I Can’t Dance, an institution dedicated to the production of performance. During these two decades, If I Can’t Dance materialised into a kaleidoscopic programme, supporting performance’s re-emergence and sharing its wealth of manifestations, strategies and understandings. The words gifted to us by Emma Goldman – ‘If I can’t dance, I don’t want to be part of your revolution’ – have served as a steady guide. And they have encouraged us to keep moving: studying questions through feminist eyes, ears and bodies; to keep engaging by collaborating with partners and audiences in many different contexts; and, as befits a good dancer, to keep attuning in exploring the potential of long-term commitment with artists.

With immense gratitude, I’ll now say goodbye. My constitution gives me signs that I have to recalibrate, and although it is hard to give into this, it is the teachings of Emma, the ethics of If I Can’t Dance, and the love of my team members, that motivate me to take these signs seriously. I feel it is important to acknowledge that a life has phases, and to regard with importance the female body, ageing, loss and grief, and the embodied response to the heaviness of the eventful world. I’m confident this attention will open new vistas and ways of being, with the many years of living and working with If I Can’t Dance – two decades of learning and supporting, sharing and receiving – offering some strong leads. I’m sad that this rich and probably most intense period of my life now draws to a close, but I also look forward to inhabiting time and space differently.

The decision has been in the making for a while. I’m happy to have contributed to the start of a conversation that in the coming months and years will get further relief, as my dear colleagues Anik Fournier, Sara Giannini and Annick Kleizen develop If I Can’t Dance into a collective organisation. It’s exciting and important to keep reflecting on institutional structures, and I’m keen to keep following the development of their plans, shaped through their ever sensitive and creative way of reflecting on performance and performativity, and with special attention for communities, unearthed histories and accessibility.

Founding and leading If I Can’t Dance has always been a collective endeavour, with many brilliant (guest-)curators shaping its programmes. Here I would like to name the wonderful cofounders, Annie Fletcher and Tanja Elstgeest, and with enormous gratitude and respect, the curators within If I Can’t Dance’s seminal years: Orlando Maaike Gouwenberg, Tanja Baudoin, Vivian Ziherl and Susan Gibb, who were all so well aligned with the organisation’s experimental spirit. The base tone of the institution was in the good hands of Marcel van den Berg and Hans Schamlé, also first-hour team members that have shaped the institution: you are in my heart forever. Our boards have been immensely supportive, always encouraging us to continue our itinerant modus operandi that comes with many uncertainties, with its most long-term members Gabriëlle Schleijpen, Martine Spanjers, Linda van Deursen, wendelien van oldenborgh, Ulrike Erbslöh and Christa-Maria Lerm Hayes: thank you for your wise input. I’m glad that If I Can’t Dance’s focus on educational support is playing an important role, continuing our longstanding relation with the Dutch Art Institute and the School for New Dance Development, and with new(er) engagements consolidated between If I Can’t Dance and the Rijksakademie van beeldende kunsten and the Sandberg Instituut.

Rounding off, I want to acknowledge the key support of many funding bodies who have been essential in ensuring our work could move forward. I want to mention in particular, the Mondriaan Fund, Ammodo, the Cultuurfonds, Creative Europe, and AFK for their support throughout our history. As many of you know, If I Can’t Dance was among the many institutions which ended ‘under de zaaglijn’ at the last Kunstenplan period with AFK. I hope that the structural underfunding of our sector will be urgently addressed by the new City Council and with Moker, I endorse the call for better structural support.

While saying goodbye, most of my reflections go to the wonderful artists, as well as to the many gifted producers, technicians, dramaturgs, light designers, costume designers, graphic designers, editors, and more we worked with. With twenty years passing in review, the many good times, sometimes tough times, come to the fore, and one thing I know for sure is that these experiences of collaborating were, and are, closest to what I consider ‘real’, giving meaning and direction navigating life. Thinking of If I Can’t Dance’s productions, I am incredibly in awe of the artists we worked with, and I want to close with saying that I admire you, and thank you, for the bold moves (in and outside of the spotlight) you have made.

Art, especially performance, doesn’t exist without audience – and therefore I thank you all, for your cocreation.

So long!

Frédérique Bergholtz