{"id":525,"date":"2026-05-28T19:28:59","date_gmt":"2026-05-28T19:28:59","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.critical-stages.org\/33\/?p=525"},"modified":"2026-06-25T18:47:59","modified_gmt":"2026-06-25T18:47:59","slug":"contemporary-dance-as-a-political-tool-on-the-lithuanian-stage","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.critical-stages.org\/33\/contemporary-dance-as-a-political-tool-on-the-lithuanian-stage\/","title":{"rendered":"Contemporary Dance as a Political Tool on the Lithuanian Stage"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Vaidas Jauni\u0161kis<\/strong>*<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Abstract<\/strong><\/h5>\n\n\n\n

Since the restoration of independence in Lithuania, we have witnessed the exceptionally rapid development of contemporary dance. This art form has been political from its very inception by crossing genre boundaries, raising uncomfortable topics, and utilizing the material itself, i.e., the body and its performativity. In Lithuania of the past, contemporary dance had to fight for its right to exist alongside ballet and folk dance, which were traditionally supported by the state. By contrast, in present day Lithuania, changes in democracy, new technologies and particularly information technology have positively impacted the evolution of contemporary dance. Over the past decade in particular, its creators have turned to public space, openly stating their positions and strengthening the social dimension of dance as an art form.

Keywords: <\/strong>public sphere, Bourdieu, political, women, performativity<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Since Lithuania regained its independence in the 1990s, no other field of the performing arts has developed as intensively or transformed the entire performing arts landscape as much as contemporary dance. Using Pierre Bourdieu\u2019s methodology and examining the field and its agents, we can observe a radical shift: from just two amateur groups in 1989, during the 35 years of independence which followed, contemporary dance has grown in Lithuania to include 12 professional companies recognized by the Ministry of Culture. In 2025 alone, 21 project applications and 32 individual grants were funded by the Council for Culture. Once a marginal field with minimal state support, contemporary dance has gained visibility as the number of agents has grown. Through sustained and hard-to-ignore activity, its participants and institutions have gradually drawn the attention of cultural policymakers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At the same time, the inertia of cultural decision-makers is evident. Contemporary dance very actively represents the country, both on tours abroad and within Lithuania; however, unlike other art forms, no state institution dedicated to contemporary dance has been established to date. Paradoxically, this community is quite active, it employs innovative methods, and is not subject to inertia, perhaps precisely because it remains unrecognized, not yet established in the halls of power as a canonical art form. Contemporary dance performances are not usually attended by politicians, nor are they not included in the presentation of Lithuanian culture through dance intended for foreign guests.<\/p>\n\n\n

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Danut\u0117 Nasvytyt\u0117\u2019s Rhythmic gymnastics and expressive dance studio. Dance performance Barbarians<\/em> at the Vilnius City Theatre. Early 1941. Photo: Lithuanian Literature and Art Archive; dancer Elena Namaju\u0161kait\u0117 Collection<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n
The Political Nature of Dance<\/strong><\/h5>\n\n\n\n

From its emergence as a distinct art form in the late 19th century, contemporary dance has been political in its expression, featuring an individual personality on stage instead of a synchronized corps de ballet, loose clothing and a body freed from pointe shoes or a corset, abstraction or the reflection of a mood instead of a fairy-tale plot, and authentic expression instead of the repetition of a pre-set choreography. The renowned choreographer William Forsythe described his profession as \u201ccurator of the dancer\u2019s autonomy\u201d (Franko 34). Contemporary dance, which does not represent the existing social order, is a child of democracy. It is inevitably linked to the body, which in various eras and under various ideologies and religions has been denied, concealed, and rendered invisible. In the realm of art, the body either belonged to the creator as a personality or became merely a symbol, a character, a detail of a stage set or a painting; this was also determined by the social order and the ideologies it promoted. In Europe, from the 17th century onward, dance created and reinforced images of identity based on monarchy, national identity and cultural characteristics of gender and race.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The German philosopher J\u00fcrgen Habermas, who studied changes in the public space, referred to court salons and the ceremonies held there as the \u201crepresentative public sphere\u201d (repr\u00e4sentative \u00d6ffentlichkeit<\/em> 25), and attending them was a certain attribute of status (9\u201310). Dance historian and choreographer Mark Franko sees dance as performing an important function of representing the country and\/or its ruler, and the location where it is performed is significant in this context (39).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Public space emerges with the development of capitalism, commercial relations, the growth of cities, the acceleration of news and information channels, the decline of absolutism and the rise of the bourgeoisie. In this non-representative public space, discussions can take place, and opinions and criticism of the ruling class can emerge. The public sphere reclaims the functions of the Greek agora; hallmarks of democracy which emerge in the public space include criticism of the government, democratic participation in shaping public policy, and generation of public opinion that influences government decisions and political processes (Franko 42).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

According to Franko, in the 18th and 19th centuries, the public sphere of culture shifted from the realm of literature to one that was more performative and choreographic, and the origins of modern dance (i.e., Isadora Duncan) mark not only the establishment of performativity but also that of subjectivity in public space, in other words, a public performance for oneself: \u201cThe moment when dance enters the public sphere is the body\u2019s appearance before the audience as an element of the subjectivity of the constructed body; thus, dance acquires a visible political dimension\u201d (42). The body becomes a means of political expression and, at times, the sole territory that is both private and public; politicality is not confined to public spaces alone.<\/p>\n\n\n

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Aira Naginevi\u010di\u016bt\u0117, Processus,<\/em> 2002. Photo: Michail Ra\u0161kovskij<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

In those countries where public spaces serve only to discipline and prohibit, the search for closed, private alternatives is automatically encouraged, one of which is the body and its expression. \u201cThe body has long been a politically engaged territory through which and in which attempts are made to regulate, repress, and control mass taste and the forms of mass consumption,\u201d states sociologist Art\u016bras Tere\u0161kinas (117). In her documentary My Stolen Planet<\/em> (Sayyareye dozdide shodeye man,<\/em> 2024), Iranian director Farahnaz Sharifi captures dance as a form of protest: it is banned by the theocratic government, so women gather in private apartments to dance without hijabs. Dance also becomes part of memories \u2013 videos of dancing people, who were killed by the regime during protests, were posted on social media \u2013 so that they are remembered in a moment when they were feeling joy. The subjectivity of dance is revealed through the public disclosure of trauma, the treatment of hysteria as a scientifically defined ailment as defined by Freud\u2019s research, as well as the inscription of trauma and the unseen into the body. Dance can become an object of psychoanalysis. Thus, dance encompasses the public and the deeply intimate spheres, subjectivity, sovereignty and politicality (Franko 42). In Lithuania, contemporary dance experienced these aspects of suppression prior to the restoration of independence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

From an Amateur Group to a Professional One<\/strong><\/h5>\n\n\n\n

During the first decade of Lithuania\u2019s independence, the first independent dance groups were formed, and the Lithuanian Dance Information Center was established. Yet contemporary dance in Lithuania, though never regarded by the state as equal to other art forms, traces its roots to interwar Germany: Danut\u0117 Nasvytyt\u0117 studied at the expressive dance school of choreographer Jutta Klamt; upon returning to Kaunas in 1939, she established a dance expression studio, which \u201cwas attended by two hundred ladies and young women from Kaunas. The studio taught rhythmic gymnastics and German expressive dance\u201d (Meilutyt\u0117). After Nasvytyt\u0117 emigrated to Australia, the studio was taken over by Kira Katerina Daujotait\u0117, who founded the dance ensemble Sonata<\/em> in 1969, in which Birut\u0117 Letukait\u0117 and Aira Naginevi\u010di\u016bt\u0117 danced. Letukait\u0117 founded the dance theatre Aura<\/em> in Kaunas in 1980, while Naginevi\u010di\u016bt\u0117 founded the contemporary dance group Fluidus<\/em> in 1989 and the dance theatre AIROS<\/em> in 2013. Thus, contemporary dance in Lithuania is directly linked to the activities of the pioneers of this genre.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sonata<\/em> existed as an amateur self-expression group. Although it had been awarded the title of \u201cexemplary dance collective\u201d (a kind of award in Soviet times), Sonata<\/em>, which operated at the Kaunas Trade Union Hall, received no funding, and the participants made their own costumes. Sonata\u2019s<\/em> activities recall the beginnings of modern dance: only women danced in the troupe, and the choreographic productions also addressed the theme of women in a patriarchal society (i.e., the cycle Woman,<\/em> based on the poems of Jonas Jak\u0161tas, featuring the characters of Dulcinea, Judith, and Medea). The dancers recall that it was \u201cthe only group of its kind in the entire Soviet Union. Our leader was a former deportee to the Laptev Sea who had suffered greatly \u2013 she was constantly criticized by the authorities. We weren\u2019t invited to any Song Festivals because we didn\u2019t fit the context\u201d (atmintiesvietos.lt<\/a>).<\/p>\n\n\n

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Dance Theatre Aura, Godos 3.0<\/em>, 2025; choreography Birut\u0117 Letukait\u0117. Photo: Tomas Sirvydas<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

The status of an amateur dance group was also a sign of the incomplete official recognition of this art form, emphasizing its amateur nature (i.e., insufficient professionalism) and comparable to fields such as pantomime or jazz. \u201cAt the time, what we were doing was a very specific field \u2013 expressive dance, who knows what to make of it\u201d (atmintiesvietos.lt<\/a>). In turn, this allowed censors to ease their control, but the path to so-called professional spheres was closed off to the performers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The opportunity to express abstract, unwritten ideas through movement was a cause for concern for Soviet censors, which also contributed to the constraints on the professionalization of dance, which was showing the first signs of becoming more modern. In this way, the pioneering choreographers of contemporary dance, now belonging to the oldest generation of dance artists, made their way to the professional stage from the amateur field. (Dap\u0161yt\u0117)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

According to Daujotait\u0117, \u201cHaving observed during the interwar period that classical ballet was losing ground, during the Soviet era, ballet-masters went on the offensive against free, modern expressive dance, trying to keep it off the major stages. We had to fight for our ideas and the way we danced all the time. But I didn\u2019t give in; I stood my ground until the end\u201d (Milkova). In addition to ballet, the government promoted folk dance. Thus, contemporary dance opposed both the government-sponsored ballet and the facade culture of folk-dance, most visible during the Dance Day at the Song Festivals. It is important to note that the format of Dance Day at the Song Festivals originated in the realm of Soviet ideology: in 1936, Soviet ideologues ordered Igor Moiseyev, a ballet dancer at the Bolshoi Theatre in Moscow, to organize a dance festival for all the peoples of the USSR; thus, a new tradition was born, one \u201ccloser to balletic \u2018character dance\u2019 than to peasant dance traditions\u201d (Annus 162). Both fields represented a state-sanctioned culture that emphasized choreography, precision of movement and mass formations, and the constraint of the body in inauthentic decorative national costumes, clogs, or ballet corsets, where improvisation and spontaneity were discouraged.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After the restoration of independence, opportunities were legally created to establish collectives without the approval of higher authorities. Although this development could be seen as an important milestone, it also came with a lack of attention to newly established collectives, especially during the first decades of independence. As dance critic Vita Moz\u016brait\u0117 recalled, \u201cIn the first phase, everyone taught themselves; projects and performances were individual initiatives, and no one was yet regulating the contemporary dance scene in Lithuania\u201d (Meilutyt\u0117). This approach connects Lithuania to the entire post-socialist community; as noted by Serbian performativity researcher Ana Vujanovi\u0107, dance from the 1990s and the first decade of the 21st century, without delving into themes and specific content, can be treated \u201cas a post-socialist celebration of the individual body and its (new) freedom after a long period during which the disciplines of collectivism and mass anonymity were taught. It is a celebration that is politically grounded in neoliberal individualism.\u201d (Vujanovi\u0107 19)<\/p>\n\n\n

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Dance Theatre Aura, Deleted Doors<\/em>, 2022; choreography Birut\u0117 Letukait\u0117. Photo: Edvardas Tamo\u0161i\u016bnas<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

At the time, it was important to carve out a place within the inherited hierarchy of the arts, and the very legitimization of this field was in itself a political move. According to Vujanovi\u0107,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Performance, even if it lacks specific political content, can have a political impact if it can undermine the production of hegemonic signifiers and the established order of signification, disrupt the usual order of perception and reception, or even introduce a new one. This modality is particularly relevant to dance, body art, and the performing arts, as it demonstrates that the very image of the body \u2013 its positions, forms, movements, and relationships on stage \u2013 can challenge dominant ideological positions by presenting critical alternatives to them. (18)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In one interview, Kira Daujotait\u0117 stated that she valued and cherished the 1991 congratulatory message on her birthday from Darius Kuolys, then Minister of Culture and Education, and his apology for the denigration of the art she promoted during the years of occupation. Despite this gesture, in cultural policy, dance as an art form was still perceived as a sort of intruder among initiatives representing ethnoculture and the well established arts of ballet and theatre. The shift in cultural policy is clearly evidenced by the steadily increasing funding for contemporary dance. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Dance critic and promoter Vita Moz\u016brait\u0117 considered the establishment of the school to be a major turning point, although initially the Lithuanian Academy of Music and Theatre offered a course for so-called dancing actors<\/em>. As she noted, \u201cPerhaps the most significant moment of the second phase was in 1998, when the Lithuanian Academy of Music and Theatre began training professional contemporary dancers.\u201d (Meilutyt\u0117). However, to this day, there is not a single state institution representing the field of contemporary dance. Although several municipalities already support dance companies (for example, Agnija \u0160eiko\u2019s Dance Theatre<\/em> in Klaip\u0117da, the urban dance company Low Air<\/em> and their school in Vilnius), only the Kaunas municipality has taken on the patronage of the Aura<\/em> Dance Theatre. The entire development of dance depends on NGO initiatives. It should be noted that dance creators are very active; for example, among the representatives of all branches of art, contemporary dancers most frequently participate in residencies abroad. However, despite various networking projects and the country\u2019s extensive representation abroad (the absence of a language barrier is also significant here), the creative field of contemporary dance faces survival challenges. This makes their community dependent on a constant stream of new ideas but does not guarantee a stable income or a more relaxed creative schedule. Vujanovi\u0107 observes similar tendencies across Europe:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The fluidity of dance, the performers\u2019 flexibility, instability, multitasking, endless networking, and collaboration \u2013 all of this paradoxically only reinforces the precariousness and political opportunism of artists. Artists believe that their way of working is progressive, even though in reality they are becoming accomplices to neoliberal ideology. (21)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

From a Closed Aesthetic to a Clear Position<\/strong><\/h5>\n\n\n\n

Bourdieu, writing about the acceptance of new phenomena or styles, identified what he calls \u201cperiods of rupture\u201d:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In periods of rupture, the inertia inherent in artistic practices (or, if you prefer, in habitus) means that works produced using new types of tools for artistic production will, for a certain time, be perceived through old means of perception, precisely those against which they were created. (225\u201326)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In a country with strong theatrical traditions, it is difficult to assert the right to abstract aesthetic movement, to dance as a stage that represents nothing, or merely as a reflection of personal experiences. Naturally, the signs and symbols encoded according to theatrical principles that emerge in dance are more appealing to a viewer accustomed to such a mechanism of decoding. The works of choreographer An\u017eelika Cholina, based on literature (Romeo and Juliet, Othello, Anna Karenina,<\/em> for example),<\/em> and essentially based on movement that illustrates a situation, attract significantly larger audiences, while the explorations of contemporary dance creators in the early decades found themselves in aesthetic opposition to the established stage culture. Reviews by dance critics more frequently mention terms such as \u201cpure dance\u201d and \u201cthe canons of neoclassical dance,\u201d but a shift toward dance theatre is also noticeable. In a 2005 review, Vita Moz\u016brait\u0117 notes how the stage is dominated by<\/p>\n\n\n\n

pseudo-philosophical rummaging through the inner world of the human being, with long annotations for dance performances or even brief compositions attempting to mask imagined creative torments. And this is because it is no longer popular to admit that a choreographer simply enjoys creating (and sometimes merely assembling) sequences of movements that are meaningless but visually beautiful, sometimes even highly original yet subtle, set to music. (37)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

However, it was not until the first decade of the 21st century that attention was focused on the relationship between this art form in the public sphere and the public itself. This could be explained by several factors, including the political landscape, which had changed radically over the course of 10\u201315 years, and the democratization of all spheres, the new horizons of expression offered by international festivals and their participants, increased networking and the exchange of ideas, the emergence of dance studies within the higher education system and their first graduates, as well as the evolving preferences and tastes of teachers. The attitude of the performers toward the audience is shifting, moving from a stance of self-expression and self-presentation toward dialogue. However, a clear engagement with social themes can only be observed after 2010. Agnija \u0160eiko\u2019s Dance Theatre<\/em> offers dance excursions in Klaip\u0117da, visiting sites where churches stood before World War II, capturing the city\u2019s Prussian past (Traveling Churches. Klaip\u0117da Transit Memel<\/em> 2015; Checkmate to Prussia. Luise in Memel<\/em>, 2018). Performances are created with or by seniors and people with disabilities (Agnija \u0160eiko\u2019s My Peter Pan<\/em>, 2018; projects by the dance theatre Dansema<\/em> with children with special needs). The urban dance theatre Low Air,<\/em> which has established a school for children and teenagers, chooses abandoned public urban spaces for its performances and draws attention to various urban policy processes in cities.<\/p>\n\n\n

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\u0160eiko Dance Company, Louise in Memel,<\/em> 2018, choreography Agnija \u0160eiko. Photo: Vytautas Petrikas<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

With regard to the political dimension of dance, the works of Greta Grinevi\u010di\u016bt\u0117 and Agniet\u0117 Lisi\u010dkinait\u0117, as well as the consistent activities of their later established company, Be Company<\/em>, stand out the most. They transcend the field of dance art and become an act of civil disobedience and social protest. The characters B and B (Blonde and Blonde), created for the 2016 performance B and B Dialogue<\/em>, are an ironically hyperbolized expression of the stereotypical misogynistic view of blondes. Later, B and B moved from the stage to public spaces, and with them, the choreographers undertook social campaigns aimed at combating the disregard for same-sex couples and their struggles and concerns. \u201cWe created the characters B and B to speak out for equal rights and support minorities, to express our support for the LGBTQ+ community,\u201d said Lisi\u010dkinait\u0117. During a protest meeting against the Baltic Pride event, they “joined” the crowd denouncing the LGBT+ community and used it as a backdrop for their photo shoot. (2016). The B and B Wedding<\/em> (2021) performance, featuring a half-hour-long kiss between the two creators dressed as brides, took place in front of the Parliament on the day the partnership law was being debated. The dancers\u2019 struggle against people of opposing ideologies and beliefs is lightly theatricalized; the characters\u2019 masks fulfill the role of court jesters, seriously or with a dose of irony, asserting their truth and automatically provoking the indignation of those who think differently.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

With the performance Z+<\/em> (2017), Agniet\u0117 Lisi\u010dkinait\u0117 emphasized the importance of her relationship with the audience: \u201cFor this to happen, we need to accept one another, create dialogue and forge strong bonds with one another. Where are we now? \u2013 We\u2019re dancing COME & SNAP.\u201d This is a performance for and with teenagers, as the dancers perform in an open space right next to the standing audience, burst into the crowd, invite them to join in, to turn on the flashlights of their phones, and pose for selfies with the audience. The choreography emerged from the choreographer\u2019s observation and personal experience:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At the Low Air<\/em> dance school, I teach a group of teenagers I\u2019ve been working with for several years. I often have coffee at the Caffeine<\/em> coffee shop, which is frequented by tons of teenagers. I like to watch young people on the streets, their style, behavior, and mannerisms. […] The main reason people are afraid to talk about this generation is its particularly strong immersion in new technologies. However, they, as representatives of Generation Z, were born when the internet already existed, so they cannot fathom a world without it. And I really don\u2019t see any problem with that. (Aina Naujienos)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In a space without a stage, the phenomenon of social media, i.e., forming bubbles and making them central, is physically expressed through dance: three dancers burst into the crowd of spectators, form circles, leave them, freeze for a moment to take a selfie and immediately share it via various apps, and then move on to the opposite corner. This expresses a generation that forms a center wherever it is; it briefly emerges, dances a delightful duet, trio, or even a solo, creates a selfie, and disappears again. For this generation right<\/em> means convenient<\/em>. Closed, hermetic, and enigmatic dance forms have been replaced by open, active communication and recognizable figures.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In 2020, one part of her upcoming work Hands Up<\/em> was performed outside the Belarusian Embassy in solidarity with the protests in Minsk against the rigged presidential election. Lisi\u010dkinait\u0117 was detained by the police for several hours for exposing herself topless in a public place. In protest against Russia\u2019s invasion of Ukraine, Greta Grinevi\u010di\u016bt\u0117 dragged a heavy washing machine across the White Bridge in Vilnius in 2022 (artistic action People \u043b\u044e\u0434\u0438<\/em>), recreating for viewers who are familiar with her work a scene from her own performance Dance for the Washing Machine and Mom<\/em> (2020), while reminding others of Russian soldiers\u2019 looting in Ukrainian cities, when they transported stolen refrigerators and other household appliances to Russia. During the same Artistic Action Week<\/em> in 2022, Agniet\u0117 Lisi\u010dkinait\u0117 stood on an empty column of Vilnius\u2019s Green Bridge (from which propaganda sculptures of a Soviet soldier and a collective farm worker had been removed a few years earlier), holding a sign in her outstretched hands displaying the number of Ukrainian civilians killed up to that day, and counting aloud from one to 2,435 (the action from These Are Not Just Numbers<\/em>). Passersby could observe how her posture changed, how her voice gradually began to tremble and her legs began to shake from fatigue: the performance lasted 2.5 hours. By means of these actions, the dancers no longer hid behind character masks but emphasized their authenticity and their political and civic stances.<\/p>\n\n\n

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Be Company, B&B Mariage<\/em>, 2021. Photo: Be Company archive<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

The dance performance Hands Up<\/em> (2021) is in its form the most overt political statement, as posters with demands or statements written in Lithuanian, English and other languages are laid out on the sidewalk in front of the audience as reactions to current events (\u201cMake America Think Again,\u201d \u201cI Have Polish Blood,\u201d \u201cSkolstrejk f\u0151r Klimatet,\u201d \u201cBlack Lives Matter,\u201d \u201cI\u2019m vaccinated\u201d and so on). Spectators joining the artists\u2019 protest march choose the slogans closest to their own views, but upon raising them, they see opposing stances expressed on the other side: \u201cMake America Great Again,\u201d \u201cLithuania for Lithuanians,\u201d \u201cYOLO,\u201d \u201cAntivaxer Lives Matter,\u201d \u201cCOVID Doesn\u2019t Exist\u201d. The demonstration quickly becomes interactive; as they march through the streets, participants are met either with approval or, conversely, shouts of protest (a passerby follows the protester with their gaze and sees the opposing statement). In Lithuania, this isn\u2019t as pronounced, but in France it became a significant part of the action: \u201cWhen people start shouting at spectators carrying a message they disagree with, an intense sense of discomfort is felt. There are also people who, while walking, try to cover statements they don\u2019t agree with\u201d (Niddam). According to observations of theatre scholar Ingrida Ragelskien\u0117 from the protest in Riga,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We also got our first middle finger: a dark-skinned English speaker expressed his outrage with a phrase directed at refugees. To be precise, he suggested we should go through this ourselves… then, the driver of a luxury car shouted in Russian, \u201cI\u2019d like a job like that,\u201d while a group of teenagers perched on a bench loudly insisted that we absolutely needed more pro-abortion posters.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This is a protest laboratory where the protest itself and its participants are examined; as Ragelskien\u0117 noted, \u201cit is not just another slogan written on a piece of cardboard that is protesting; it is, in fact, the human body that finds itself in a highly unexpected situation, a challenging and emotionally charged one.\u201d Agniet\u0117 Lisi\u010dkinait\u0117\u2019s outfit reminiscent of a pop culture icon or a B and B character as well as the ambivalent posters raise questions about the protest itself. Shiny trousers, white high heels, and a confident, assertive stride give the performer a distinctive presence on the street, yet the image seems to cast doubt on her civic activism. In the second part, once everyone has gathered in the hall and is watching the recording of the demonstration that just took place, the perspective shifts again. The performer, standing before the screen, continues to hold her hands up, asking the audience, no longer participants, to join in, making various signs such as a heart, the crucifixion pose, the metalist devil, which, coincidentally, match the demonstration\u2019s symbols or comments on them, thus adding context to the scene (surrender, anger directed at a passing car or pride, for example).<\/p>\n\n\n

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Agniet\u0117 Lisi\u010dkinait\u0117, Hands Up<\/em>, 2021. Photo: Dainius Putinas<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

Next, the performer kicks off her shoes, throws off her blouse, and bares her chest; her image and dance poses shift from that of a sexy pop star to that of an angry thug. We see images of shifting identities that question the protesters\u2019 social affiliation with the corresponding and homogeneous stratum suggested by the viewer\u2019s stereotypical mental constructs. It seems like a lesson in democracy, to accept the other, realized as a different body and a different perspective. At the same time, viewers see themselves placed in a different context. Finally, the focus turns inward: with Cher\u2019s song Believe <\/em>playing in the background, the performer, her chest and face splattered with paint, shifts the direction of the protest once more and shouts and dances, \u201cnot about political issues, but about private pain, as in the end of a romantic relationship\u201d (Rampin).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Dance can be interpreted in various ways, but what is important here is the use of choreography to transform spaces and the relationships between bodies, or between the body on screen and in reality. According to choreographer William Forsythe, \u201cChoreography is not necessarily related to dance, and dance is not limited to choreography. Choreography is the arrangement of bodies in space or in relation to other bodies, or the positioning of the body within a space that has been arranged.\u201d (quoted from Klein 127)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It is important to enter a public\/foreign space and encounter its contexts, which are, quite literally, traversed. Not only performers but also spectators\/participants must be open and, at the same time, assert their own position. As Mark Franko said,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The dancing body wields rhetorical, persuasive, and deconstructive power within the social space of the audience, which is one of the forms of the public sphere. However, public controversy is not essential to the politics enacted in dance. The way dance occupies public space is full of political gestures, just like any other use of space for the circulation of bodies. Dance can play a political role without always explicitly speaking about politics. (32)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The relationship between public space and the social body becomes the central theme of the dance excursion I\u2019m Going to Buy Milk. \u0160e\u0161kin\u0117.<\/em> In 2021, Agniet\u0117 Lisi\u010dkinait\u0117 and Greta Grinevi\u010di\u016bt\u0117 created this fairytale, as they themselves define the genre, in which Paulius, a hipster from Vilnius, finds himself in a residential neighborhood, \u0160e\u0161kin\u0117, completely foreign to him and his status\/social class. But the minimal plot, that of leaving the apartment building to buy almond milk for coffee, is not important here. The creators spent a few months exploring the neighborhood itself and created the conditions for viewers to experience it by following Paulius\u2019s instructions through headphones and accompanying the character on a tour from his apartment building to the neighborhood shopping center.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This sociocultural study was created from conversations with members of the \u0160e\u0161kin\u0117 community, and also from the creators\u2019 autobiographical details, as one of the main dancers, Giedr\u0117 Jankauskien\u0117, used to live in the neighborhood. The creators drew attention to the demographics of the neighborhood, in which 70 percent of its residents are senior citizens. However, no contrast is created between the dancers and the residents or the \u0160e\u0161kin\u0117 community ensemble that joined the performance; rather, the opposite effect is achieved. Thus, a palpable sense of attentiveness to each other is present among participants, and a visible sign of respect is displayed whenever an individual enters a foreign space.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This is a culturally decentered performance; the creators emphasized their aim of moving away from the center, where most cultural events are concentrated, and away from the casual audience accustomed to such events. The space is important as a set design, lending a surrealistic flavor to the happening itself. As they are led through a grove, the audience makes a stop at concrete sculptures of athletes created by sculptor Mykolas Sauka. The high-rise constructions of \u0160e\u0161kin\u0117 feature intriguing architectural elements and patterns, while the shopping center represents postmodern Lithuanian architecture. Along the way, dancers can be seen in the strangest places; dressed in bright clothes, they hang from trees, clotheslines, and in the meadow. Next, participants encounter two lively brunettes causing a commotion, analogous to the B and B mutation of Grinevi\u010di\u016bt\u0117 and Lisi\u010dkinait\u0117, as they try to start a malfunctioning vehicle. Gardener Filomena, accompanied by local musicians, dances with her partner near her flower garden on the main boulevard of the neighborhood, Saul\u0117s Lane. Tour guide Paulius isn\u2019t active, but his narration, heard through headphones, reflects the linguistic code-switching typical of a post-colonial country, as English words favored by hipsters are interspersed with Russian interjections. The viewer\u2019s gaze sharpens in search of oddities and the exotic, so any character can be taken for a local, and residents gazing out the windows or taking a walk can be taken for characters. In this work, set in an open space, any action unfolding before the viewer\u2019s eyes appears staged.<\/p>\n\n\n

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Agniet\u0117 Lisi\u010dkinait\u0117, These Are Not Just Numbers, <\/em>in Artistic Action Week 2022. Photo:\u00a0Martynas Norvai\u0161as<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

In such an environment so atypical for performance, the body becomes social, representative and assertive. As sociologist Art\u016bras Tere\u0161kinas observes, \u201cThe body is the seat of our identity. The body\u2019s gestures, language, posture, and facial expressions not only help us communicate with others but also express our place in the social and cultural space\u201d (7). The viewer\u2019s own body becomes significant, as it also reacts to encounters with new rituals and unfamiliar spaces, incorporating them into its own sociocultural map. Promenades, walking tours and performances allow us not only to observe others, but also to experience the performance through our own bodies, even if unconsciously, and to create a phenomenological record in our memory. As director and composer Heiner Goebbels wrote about Rimini Protokoll\u2019s interactive performance Call Cutta<\/em>,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This experience is more powerful than the reception of a comparable performance that conveys, depicts, and represents the same theme, the political discourse that served as the basis for Call Cutta<\/em>, through psychologized dialogues. [. . . .] Impressions are received on many levels, for example, the acoustic, the visual, the reflective and the physical or bodily level, as participants, encountering a public space with an unstable foundation, experience the joy of discovery. (90\u20131)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Public space transforms the conception of theatre and the interactions occurring within it between the spectator and the performer. Christopher B. Balme, in interpreting and engaging with Habermas\u2019s insights on public spaces, broadly questions 20th-century theatre as a public space, since in the era of modernism, which Balme identifies as the late 19th century, everything was oriented toward the aesthetic rather than the social experience of the spectator. Balme argues that nowadays, the relationship between the private and the public overlaps both financially and functionally, as well as architecturally and spatially (26\u20137).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Dance seems even more closed off to the theatre scholar. Guided by rather conservative views on contemporary dance, and thus reflecting the general perspective of art critics, Balme asserts that \u201cOf all forms of theatre, formalism is perhaps most prevalent in dance, both in artistic strategies and in how it is taught. Dance would seem the least suitable medium for raising questions reserved for newspaper editorials, government statements, and television debates\u201d (193). However, in analyzing several performances, he acknowledges that the performing arts have changed significantly due to the influence of post-dramatic theatre and performativity, as well as the networked society. Today, theatre constitutes just one node in a vast rhizome; in other words, \u201ctheatrical performance should be seen as just one component of a wider public discussion and deliberation\u201d (201).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The work of yet-to-be recognized artists in non-prestigious spaces, as defined by Bourdieu, reveals their decisive efforts to propose socially and politically engaged themes, to move out of aestheticized environments and move into open public spaces, ones that have not been created for theatrical performance. Within the theatre itself, practitioners aim to subvert the traditional spatial configuration, and by stepping outside of it, they assume responsibility for asserting their position within the cultural sphere or beyond.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The performances of the younger generation of Lithuanian choreographers clearly mark a transition from an abstract to a concrete presentation of themes, from the closed aesthetics of pure dance to an open, socially relevant artistic vision, from cold exploration to a sensitive and personal form of inquiry, and from the mental and aesthetic to the experiential. The boundaries of space are expanding; performances are no longer merely about observation and contemplation but also about sensations and lived experience, and dance becomes a provisional label for what is essentially an interdisciplinary event organized by creators who have majored in dance. The work offers an important and more penetrating look at a problem or phenomenon, whether current and unspoken or current and under discussion in the broader public sphere. It is not a self-serving self-representation, but rather a socially interactive form of expression, a determination to bring to light the masked problems of society and to engage in dialogue about them, both with those who agree with the creators\u2019 views and with those who reject them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There is also a clear shift from representational art, which presents themes or problems, to performative art, in which the body becomes a territory of identity, the essence of the performer\u2019s physical presence. The focus is shifting from theatre toward performance, moving away from representation toward simply being and asserting one\u2019s position.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

One might add that theatre has undergone a similar transformation; not only does dance appear more frequently in dramatic performances, but the actor\u2019s body also begins to act within them. The past two decades in Lithuania could be described as an era of reclaiming the body in which the character is no longer two-dimensional; the actor also participates by expressing their position or asserting their presence and rejecting illusion. The performative nature of art invites the audience to participate, offering an experience rather than a closed narrative, and both cross boundaries, sometimes physical, as they rupture established norms.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Note<\/strong>: Translated from Lithuanian by Judita Gliauberzonait\u0117<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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atmintiesvietos.lt. \u201cI\u0161rai\u0161kos \u0161okio trup\u0117 \u201eSonata\u201c: \u201e\u017dmon\u0117s sakydavo, apsiaukite, varg\u0161\u0117s, su\u0161alsite kojeles<\/a>, 2018.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Balme, Christopher B. The Theatrical Public Sphere<\/em>. Cambridge UP, 2014.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Dap\u0161yt\u0117, Goda. \u201cFrom Classic to Contemporary Dance<\/a>.\u201d Lithuanian Culture Institute<\/em>, 2018.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Franko, Mark. \u201cTaniec a polityczno\u015b\u0107: stany wyj\u0105tkowe.\u201d Choreografia: polityczno\u015b\u0107<\/em>, edited by Marta Keil, Art Stations Foundation, 2018.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Goebbels, Heiner. Nebuvimo estetika<\/em>. Apostrofa, 2023.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Habermas, J\u0171rgen. The Structural Transformation of the Public Sphere. The MIT Press, 1989.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Klein, Gabriele. \u201cKolektywne cia\u0142a protestu.\u201d Choreografia: polityczno\u015b\u0107<\/em>, edited by Marta Keil, Art Stations Foundation, 2018.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Meilutyt\u0117, Monika. \u201cVis dar nesusikalbame: diskusija apie \u0161ok\u012f Lietuvoje<\/a>.\u201d Men\u0173 fakt\u016bra<\/em>, 9 Nov. 2010.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Milkova, Vaida. \u201cK. K. Daujotait\u0117 \u2013 i\u0161saugojusi gyv\u0105 laisvojo \u0161okio tradicij\u0105<\/a>.\u201d Kauno diena<\/em>, 25 Aug. 2010.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Niddam, Am\u00e9lie Blaustein. \u201c\u2018Focus Lituanie\u2019 Pary\u017eiaus centre: d\u0117mesys Lietuvos politinio performanso scenai<\/a>.\u201d Men\u0173 fakt\u016bra<\/em>, 22 Nov. 2024.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Rampin, Olindo. \u201cSantarcangelo 2024: quattro ipotesi di un\u2019umanit\u00e0 nuova<\/a>.\u201d Paneacquaculture<\/em>, 27 July 2024.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ragelskien\u0117, Ingrida. \u201cRankas \u012f vir\u0161\u0173. Teatriniai vasaros \u012fsp\u016bd\u017eiai<\/a>.\u201d 7 meno dienos<\/em>. 28, 16 Sept. 2022.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tere\u0161kinas, Art\u016bras. K\u016bno \u017eym\u0117s: seksualumas, identitetas, erdv\u0117 Lietuvos kult\u016broje<\/em>. Baltos lankos, 2001.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Vujanovi\u0107, Ana. \u201cO polityczno\u015bci wsp\u00f3\u0142czesnego performansu.\u201d Choreografia: polityczno\u015b\u0107<\/em>, edited by Marta Keil, Art Stations Foundation, 2018. <\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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*<\/a>Vaidas Jauni\u0161kis<\/strong> is a theatre critic, columnist, and lecturer at the Lithuanian Academy of Music and Theatre in Vilnius, Lithuania. He holds a PhD in Theatre Studies and graduated from the Faculty of Philology at Vilnius University. From 2005 to 2017, he worked as a project manager at the performing arts centre Arts Printing House, where he also created and edited the performing arts website www.menufaktura.lt<\/a>. He was a member of the Lithuanian Council for Culture from 2013 to 2017 and again from 2021 to 2025. He writes on performing arts and cultural policy in Lithuania and internationally.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Copyright \u00a9<\/strong> 2026 Vaidas Jauni\u0161kis
Critical Stages\/Sc\u00e8nes critiques<\/em>, #33, June 2026
e-ISSN: 2409-7411<\/p>\n\n\n

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