This artistic residency comes at a very particular moment in my journey. After pausing my practice in 2023 due to the ongoing strain of working within a context marked by limited support, scarce funding, and structural instability, returning to creation has been an act of deep reconciliation with myself. During that period, I felt my sense of purpose slowly fading under the pressure of sustaining my work through administrative demands—writing applications, developing projects, constantly justifying their existence. Somewhere along the way, I lost sight of what had always been at the core: the act of creating.
This was further intensified by the experience of having developed several works that barely had the chance to be performed. In a landscape where dance is increasingly under-programmed, the creative impulse struggled to find its natural meeting point with audiences.
Within this context, the residency became an opportunity to return to what feels essential. My approach has been to reconnect with my body in the present moment, setting aside immediate expectations of productivity and instead cultivating a practice rooted in listening. I embrace—perhaps from a seemingly naïve but deeply necessary perspective—the responsibility of reflecting beauty through my work. I understand this as an act of resistance. In a world that feels increasingly polarized, where dialogue is diminishing and communities are fragmenting, choosing to engage with beauty becomes, in itself, a political gesture.
During my time in Ireland, something fundamental shifted: I was given time. Time to pause, to observe, and to stay with the thoughts that usually interrupt my creative process. Rather than pushing them away, I chose to welcome them, to witness them, and to understand how they resonate within my body. This required a leap of faith into the unknown—into what I do not fully understand, yet intuitively recognize as transformative.
At the heart of this process, a question emerged: how can such an intimate experience become something that resonates beyond myself? It was then that the myth of Orpheus came to mind—not in its literal form, but in its essence. Orpheus does not fight; he sings. Through art, he transforms. This idea became a quiet guide in my process. From there, I began to shape a new, more personal mythology—one that is suggestive rather than descriptive, inviting the audience to engage actively and complete the work through their own perception.
The resulting language is intentionally simple, avoiding grand gestures or heroic narratives. Instead, it holds a desire to continue transmitting beauty. Even when engaging with fragility or decay, there is a commitment to sustaining a sensitive and attentive gaze.
I have come to understand more clearly that my body, simply by existing and moving, is already political. There is no need to make this explicit. At a time when dance has absorbed so many layers of political discourse, I feel it is equally important to reclaim its capacity to exist through other dimensions—through love, beauty, and presence.
This residency has allowed me to reaffirm myself in that direction, with clarity and conviction.
