WHY KVS IN KIN? So first of all, why would KVS, the Royal Flemish Theater (that s what KVS stands for), from the Belgian and European capital of Brussels, engage with artists from the Democratic Republic of Congo and its capital Kinshasa? Why as Belgians - did we not simply stay far away, as most of my Flemish arts colleagues continue to do, from the Central African country that we have quite a complicated history with? It would definitely have been the easy solution: disengagement. We ended up taking a slightly different turn: we chose to explore whether from the specific starting-point of Brussels a productive and ambitious, an in-depth and long-term relationship with DRC-artists could be a possibility. KVS collaborations with Kinshasa s and DRC s artistic scene are first and foremost embedded in the contemporary reality of Brussels, a small but very cosmopolitan city. Today, Brussels is not only the Belgian and European capital, but it is also partly an African and Arab city. When the presidential elections in DRC in November 2011 led to major troubles in Kinshasa, several Brussels areas were on fire. And if there are tensions in Ramallah and on the West Bank, the consequences can immediately be felt all over town. Even though not many Belgians, whether they are politicians, cultural operators or just citizens, are ready to admit it, it is definitely no longer a city of two majority communities, a Flemish and a French-speaking one, like it used to be at the time of the foundation of KVS in the late 1900 s. Through continual waves of migration, Brussels has gradually become a very multilingual city without a clear dominant culture or canon. It s a city of only minorities: more than 50% of Brussels households are linguistically mixed, less than 50% of the city s population has the Belgian nationality, more than 10% of the population has Central African origins. The least that can be said is that this contemporary reality is not reflected at all in the city s political structures or representation, and not in its official cultural life and canon either. When I started working at KVS more than ten years ago, the theater had become a UFO in Brussels it was completely disconnected from 90% of its population and from its artistic and cultural evolutions and energies. So we had to ask ourselves the question: can this institution be reinvented and can a new mission be defined that allows for this house to make a meaningful contribution to the future of a city where all citizens know at least one thing that they do not share a common past but have to build a common future, despite differences in religion, culture and language? It basically meant turning everything upside down: no longer having an artistic project centered on a troop of Flemish actors, or a repertoire of established Western plays performed in Dutch (and therefore of no meaning or interest to more than 90% Brussels citizens). From a Flemish house and company focused on text theater in Dutch, KVS had to be transformed into a multilingual and multidisciplinary Brussels city theater. One step we immediately made, was to establish contact and start a conversation with Brussels artists whose background was Congolese, or otherwise African. Of course there were many of them in the city, even though in the established Flemish (or European) performing arts we often tend to think that these fellow-citizens are not culturally active and will by definition not be interested in what a cultural institution like KVS has to offer. The opposite turned out to be true. We included them in our artistic conversations and decision-making processes and offered them our stages. Gradually reasons emerged for artists and audiences from these non-flemish communities of Brussels to identify with a house like KVS. When in 2005 we started working and collaborating internationally, we decided to see this part of our project as a continuation of our work in Brussels. If we can show our projects at major European houses or festivals in Paris, Berlin, Vienna or Avignon, of course we will. More importantly though, we wanted to find out what was going on in Kinshasa, what the artistic dynamics were in a city so intricately connected with our own, and what we could
learn from local artists and their structures. We needed to find out what differences could be made, in all kinds of directions. But clearly, our starting point was more about finally facing the local and international dimensions of Brussels, and about a cosmopolitan approach connecting global cities such as Brussels and Kinshasa, than it was African. Acknowledging the Congolese reality of Brussels, the intense and complex flows of all sorts between Brussels and Kinshasa, the fact that more and more artists in both cities structurally live and work in between Europe and Africa or in between North and South, and exploring how all of the above elements would impact on a cultural institution like KVS and its repertoire, and on the canon of Brussels and the artistic scene in Kinshasa: those were the motivations that drove us. They were not diplomatic, not state - or only institution - driven, not developmentbased. All of the above does not mean of course that there were no reasons to be found in the history of KVS as an institution, and in the Brussels and Belgian past, to face the reality of today s DRC. To name but two: there s of course the fact that Leopold II was the only real urbanist that Brussels ever knew and that a substantial part of the outlay of today s Brussels and its major landmarks were commissioned by the former King himself, and financed with capital he drew directly from his colonial enterprise. Brussels would quite simply look like a very different city today if it hadn t been for Leopold s engagement with the Congo, but that is not very often referred to or acknowledged when the city s story is being told today. And then there s also the peculiar point that it was at KVS in 1894 that King Leopold II held his first public speech in the Dutch language ever, after which he officially named the Flemish Theater a Royal Theater. Whether we liked it or not, historically both the city and the cultural institution where we worked, turn out to be intimately linked with one of the most infamous actors of the colonial era. Better to face that than to ignore it, one could say. But then again, our reasons to be in Kinshasa have very little to do with guilt or shame rooted in the past. ARTISTIC KINSHASA The artistic landscape that we came across in Kinshasa in 2005, and that hasn t changed much since then (even though apart from that Kinshasa changes all of the time), was one of an intense contrast between vibrant independent artistic activity on the one hand, and institutional and political implosion and paralysis on the other hand. A young generation of curious, inventive artists blurring the distinctions between different disciplines (performing arts, visual arts, literature, photography and cinema) were prominent in the local community and had a significant, but informal impact on local production. Local arts centers in the cités or popular areas of town ranged from dynamic artist-driven hubs of intense artistic, cultural and social activity closely connected to very local contexts and issues, to other, rather conservative and closed spaces that were mainly focused on the survival of its own operators and a canon and set of artistic practices imitating francophone European examples, and had little real visibility and impact. For their financial support both of them were mainly dependent on foreign embassies and ngo s that more often than not linked their own political agendas to the funds that were given. State-run institutions such as the National Theater or the National Institute of Arts were mostly sad, unproductive, and sometimes reactionary but still quite powerful players. They reminded one of what Kinshasa must have looked like in the 1970 s when president Mobutu invested substantially in a cultural sector that was meant to solidify national and cultural identity, and ultimately, the regime itself. Insofar these institutions were still operative, their impact was nothing to be enthusiastic about: quite immune to the innovative and dynamic young artists, they had become academic and conformist centers of a beaux arts oriented approach that was totally out of touch with the surrounding local and global urban context and its creative energies. And then there were the government and its ministry of culture: absent and unhelpful at best, obstructive and grabby at its worst. As
one artist put it to me at some point: when you get invited to a meeting at the ministry of culture you know exactly what is going to happen no reward for the fact that you are actually doing their work for them, and you probably get blamed for the fact that you are missing this or that authorization, which will be a reason for an extra tax or fine. Where the Mobutu-regime at its best moments still stood for some sort of an authentic Zairian cultural identity and heritage embodied by artists such as musician Franco (however much they were manipulated by the dictatorial and repressive political regime), today s independent and contemporary artists are stuck in between a government that doesn t acknowledge or support their talents or impact in any kind of way, and a scene of commercial pop stars that have totally sold out to corporate and commercial interests and show no sign of solidarity whatsoever. With KVS we decided to focus on intense, long-term and reciprocal collaborations with a limited number of visionary independent artists from various disciplines, and dynamic small arts centers, all of which find themselves exactly in this in-between position. The point was always to focus on what connects us, rather than on all the differences that separate us, of course without ignoring these differences. But the fact that all of them are creators and activists in an urban and cosmopolitan context that is in some ways similar to ours, has turned out to be a productive starting-point for shared conversations, creations and even a festival. On a certain level, even the differences have led to innovative win-win collaborations: the institutional power of KVS that we have at our disposal in Brussels (for the time being at least, because none of this can be taken for granted in austerity-stricken and right-wing, populist Europe) combines well with the artistic and political visions of these independent artists in Kinshasa. Let me just briefly introduce a few of those artists, who are all in their own way no-sayers. Faustin Linyekula is a dancer / choreographer / director from Kisangani in North-Eastern Congo. Faustin left Kisangani as a young artist in the early 90 s, spent a decade working with very diverse artists in Kenya, South-Africa and several European countries before returning to DRC in 2003 and establishing his company Studios Kabako in Kinshasa. Since then and without any structural or institutional support from DRC many things have happened. Faustin has created a very personal, formally daring and politically committed body of work (both experiment and experience) in between dance and theater, and with strong connections to the worlds of music, photography and the visual arts. Basically, Faustin is a narrator, and his medium is his body, and the story, time and time again and in different forms, is his own personal journey, and his attempts to stay up, in a country falling apart and pulling him down. He has taken along with him on this journey an entire generation of young performers from Kinshasa and Kisangani, some of whom have become creators in their own right. Even though he can perform all of his productions at many houses and festivals in Europe and the US, spending as much time as possible in DRC, where most of the work is actually created, is a very clear choice. With Studios Kabako he has moved back from Kinshasa to his home-base of Kisangani, where he is in the middle of setting up a network of small arts centers in different parts of town. These centers and all of the Kabako-activities in Kisangani have a horizon and impact that go beyond purely artistic matters: they have changed many individual lives and have also led to an overall change in the position of artists and cultural operators in the city. Faustin and his wife Virginie, who manages the company, are our most important partners in DRC. As far as the relationship is concerned between Kabako and Connexion Kin, the annual festival that I will talk about in a minute, it is intense. Not only is Faustin involved in all the fundamental artistic and other choices of the festival, Connexion Kin has also become the natural stage for the work of the young
artists within Kabako that make their first steps as independent creators. As we often say with Faustin, Kisangani is the laboratory, and Kinshasa is the platform on which the results from the lab are shared with the outside world. Djo Munga is DRC s most important film director and the creator of Viva Riva, an excellent gangster movie set in the streets of Kinshasa that has been shown around the world. Viva Riva is the first feature film to come out of DRC in more than forty years, and is almost entirely shot in Lingala. Djo has now started a film school in Kinshasa that sends out the local and young talents on documentary missions all over the country. He is definitely one of the most stubborn and influential cultural operators in the city, who manages to strike a complicated but important and fine balance between a committed local agenda, and financial sources that are international, both dependent on public funding and commercial money. Djo is an important advisor of Connexion Kin, and both his own work and the work of many of the young artists surrounding him, working in film and other media such as photography, have been prominent in the festival program. Last but definitely not least, the local arts center that we have worked together with most closely is called Les Béjarts and is set in Bandal, one of the most vibrant and artistically dynamic parts of Kinshasa. Combining artistic, cultural and social work in the area, and run by some of the city s most dynamic artists and operators, Les Béjarts have been both a stage and an artistic partner for many of the festival s projects and events. It is a safe haven for young talents and committed local audiences, and has developed and cherished an independent position in the Kinshasa landscape, while at the same time being connected to the world outside DRC. CONNEXION KIN In late 2008, after three years of work in Kinshasa and DRC with the partners that I mentioned above and many others, focusing on long-term conversations and collaborations, on encounters between those DRC-artists and artists based in Brussels, and on supporting the creation of new work emerging from these encounters, we came to the conclusion, in talks with people like Faustin, Djo and others, that a platform was needed. Not just any platform, but a platform ín Kinshasa itself, global city of 10 million inhabitants without large-scale performing arts events. And a platform on which the results of all of these conversations, creations and co-creations could be shared with the local arts community and audiences, and with artists from other African countries and the rest of the world. It had to be a platform with real quality, visibility and impact in the city, but at the same time an independent haven away from established political and institutional agendas (so no FES- MAN to put it simply). That is how Connexion Kin was born. From the outset, it was meant to be a festival set in in the city of Kinshasa, in very close connection with the city s artistic community and energies, but not limited to them. Connexion Kin can only happen in Kinshasa, but is not a Congolese or African Festival. Connexion Kin aims to be multidisciplinary and is not limited to one art form, and it wants to focus on creation (not reproduction), but with room for reflection as well. It is mainly artist-driven, run by a network of Congolese, African and international partners, and has no formal or official political or institutional connections, except with KVS. Its ambition is to reinforce artists and their projects, whether they are from Kinshasa, Brussels or other cities, to attract local and diverse audiences, and to connect all of them with more international conversations and dynamics. Of course hopes are that this will bring about change, on many levels and in many directions, and won t leave unaffected any of the partners involved, whether they are Congolese, African or European. What is the position of artists and their creations in today s globalized African and European cities? What does it mean to be African and European and to be working together? What do contemporary and multidisciplinary mean in these contexts and are they helpful
notions at all? These are all questions that are discussed and referred to implicitly and explicitly in every edition of the festival. And of course for us there is also the question: how do all of these Kinshasa activities relate to KVS and Brussels? So far five editions of Connexion Kin have taken place since 2009, every year in June- July, the first edition lasting four days, and the most recent one eleven days. All of them are the result of complex conversations and negotiations between many people from many parts of the world. An intense artistic program in the fields of theater, dance, music, photography, film and visual arts is put together by a programming team consisting of artistic staff members of KVS, and of artists that are close to KVS but live and work on the African continent, such as Faustin Linyekula, theater director Dieudonné Niangouna from Brazzaville (who was also the associate artist of the latest Avignon Festival) and choreographer Boyzie Cekwana from South- Africa. Again, the idea is not to defend one vision of the contemporary performing arts, of Congolese culture (whatever that may be), or of African-ness (whatever that may be). Rather the point is for artistic trajectories and visions, and a very specific urban context that is Congolese, African and global, to enter into a conversation that is open-ended, and that is not about final or essentialist definitions. What we do know however, is that this conversation could and would not be the same, if Connexion Kin did not happen in Kin, but elsewhere on the planet. As Boyzie Cekwana put it to me once: All of the artists that I meet and speak with during Connexion Kin, I also meet them in other places around the globe. But I never get to meet all of them at the same time, and I never get to meet them on the African continent. Exactly these two elements make Connexion Kin into a unique experience: the conversations acquire more layers and become richer, because we are all together here for the duration of the whole festival, and because we are in Kinshasa, and not in Paris, Berlin or New York. To mention a few other crucial ingredients of the festival: as much as possible all of the artists are around for the entire duration of the festival; next to creations and performances, there is an intense program of meetings and debates, involving all of the artists, but also local audiences; the audience is 90% Congolese, coming mainly from the artistic community in the city, in the large sense of the word, being neither equal to the man in the street, nor to the local and rich upper-class; even though we do decentralize and go into some of the small arts centers in the cités, such as the Béjarts, the main Festival Center has so far been the French Institute of Kinshasa, quite pragmatically because this is the only place that has the infrastructure to host the largerscale works of artists like Faustin or Boyzie Cekwana. And finally, the international performing arts circuit seems to have discovered Kinshasa and Connexion Kin, with about 40 programmers from around the world making the trip to Kinshasa for the most recent edition. QUESTIONS AND DOUBTS FOR THE FUTURE It is not an exaggeration to say that the impact of Connexion Kin has been quite substantial. In Brussels definitely, in the sense that we have managed to put DRC back on the mental map of our audiences and society that had for decades mainly shown indifference towards a part of the world that we used to be so intensely connected to. We have also managed to include the work of artists like Faustin Linyekula, Djo Munga, and others from different disciplines, such as photographers Sammy Baloji and Kiripi Katembo, into the repertoire of a formerly exclusively Flemish cultural institution like KVS, and to a certain extent into a new Brussels canon. In that way a humble contribution has been made to bringing official cultural life in Brussels closer to the reality of the city. For many of today s Brussels citizens, Faustin, Djo, Sammy or Kiripi and their work are better reasons to identify with a theater house like KVS, much more than the plays and repertoire of established Belgian and European authors that some continue to say
should be the focus of the artistic production of KVS. Last but not least, we have managed to build committed, curious, diverse and growing audiences for the work of these artists. In Kinshasa we have undoubtedly reinforced the trajectories and positions of quite a few individual artists and arts centers, both by connecting their work with eager and curious audiences (that are not consumers but real participants) and by doing something about its isolation internationally. In a local context that doesn t care much or doesn t invest in the contemporary and critical performing arts in general, the fact that Faustin Linyekula or Djo Munga have become artistic and societal references locally and internationally, is probably in some ways a result of the power and impact of an independent festival like Connexion Kin. However, there are of course also many questions and doubts as to what has not been achieved yet, or as to the way certain things have been achieved. And most importantly, as to how things should continue should they become more institutionalized and sustainable? Or is this festival just an annual two week experience between artists and a city and its populations, and will it live on, when it stops, in the trajectories of the people that were a part of it? First of all, there is of course a question of ownership. Even though Faustin Linyekula, Djo Munga, and others have become important stakeholders in Connexion Kin, and even though none of the money that makes the festival happen comes out of the regular KVS-budget, the reality is still that Connexion Kin cannot happen without the support of KVS. If you quite simply say that the power is where the money is, then of course the independence and autonomy of Connexion Kin and the involvement of Congolese co-owners remain relative. However much we try and make Connexion Kin into a shared space in which responsibilities are not connected to money, the perception on the part of many of our Congolese partners is still that we bring in the funds that make the Festival happen. And that is the reality and does complicate conversations and exchanges which on a purely artistic and political level are actually very productive. Secondly, and related to that, however exciting and innovative it might be to develop cultural projects and events that happen outside of institutions and without government support, the reality remains that it is highly complicated to do so from scratch. And so all of our Congolese partners are having to deal with an absence of cultural institutions and policies that make them problematically dependent on international sources of funding they don t always want to be involved with. Even though the globalized nature of Kinshasa and Brussels connects these cities, Faustin and Djo do want to be able to create at least partly in Kinshasa (or Kisangani), and not in Brussels or Paris. Today this is only possible if they spend half of their lives traveling and fund-raising in Europe or the US. For Faustin Linyekula and Djo Munga there is no state or official cultural policy that they can oppose or try and change or say no to. They are facing a state and political actors that at best ignore them and leave them entirely on their own, unless they decide to charge an extra tax. Finally, and concerning the festival more specifically, one of the main questions we are dealing with right now, is how to embed the whole project even better and deeper in the local reality of Kinshasa. What we are aiming for is an international festival that is profoundly connected to and influenced by the local context in which it is happening. This local grounding is exactly what so many international festivals and cultural manifestations in Europe and the US have lost, which makes them into completely interchangeable UFO s. However, in that respect too, the absence of real and decent cultural infrastructures outside the cultural centers of the European delegations such as the French Institute, is problematic. It is not our wish to have a Festival Center within the walls of the French Institute, that more and more focuses on an agenda of commercial and language interests. Like most of these European delegations, the Institute
promotes a model that feels outdated to us. Even though we organize transport to and from the French Institute to the popular transportation hubs in many areas of town before and after performances, being at the IF does exclude audiences we are interested in and that might be interested in our festival. And so the next edition of Connexion Kin will not happen at the French Institute. But how we will nevertheless offer the artists decent conditions for their work to meet audiences, is a complicated question yet to resolve. NÉGRITUDE TODAY So how does all this connect to the notion of négritude? Maybe part of an answer can be found in the latest essay by Achille Mbembe, Critique de la raison nègre, that was published recently and in which he tries to go back to the original Aimé Césairian notion of négritude, rather than its political application by Senghor. Mbembe argues that in today s globalized, late-capitalist and neo-liberal world the notion of negritude is no longer exclusively connected to one continent, one race, one colour of skin. Culturally speaking, clearly in today s Europe, none of the institutional strengths that a house like KVS can offer can be taken for granted. It may very soon be one more connection between the reality of Brussels and the reality of Kinshasa: how to deal, as artists and cultural operators, with political and economical policy makers that are no longer committed to sustaining a cultural landscape and artistic sector that is centered on creation, critique and change or exchange. As Faustin Linyekula put it to me once: When it comes to creating art in times of crises, all European artists and operators should come and spend time in DRC. We are experts. Jan Goossens TATE MODERN, November 29th, 2013