In the heart of Paris, a small crowd holds up signs, hands raised above their head. A typical Saturday in France and any big city – at least in countries where demonstrating is not a crime. But look closer, and the signs are confusing. One side stands for the ‘traditional family’, the other says ‘I am bisexual’. One recto reads ‘covid doesn’t exist’, its verso ‘I’m vaccinated’. Reactionary vs progressive, misogyny vs feminism, plus some more unpopular ideas such as ‘vegetarian are just bad hunters’. Performed in the streets, Hands up by Lithuanian choreographer Agnietė Lisičkinaitė creates an intervention that makes us face a reality: every idea implicates its opposite; one can stand for as much as against; democracy is never one-way.
With this piece, applauded in over 20 countries, Lisičkinaitė has reached a broad audience and made public protest a core of her choreographic practice. Nevertheless, she has never considered herself a pure activist. She explains: ‘Deliberate starvation through hunger strikes, demonstrations, marches, sit-ins, occupations… for me, every fight for or against ideas begins with the body. I see the world first and foremost as an artist.’ She started dance at the age of six thanks to her grandmother, a practising member of a non-professional free-dance group who imbued Lisičkinaitė with her love for and knowledge of dance. Lisičkinaitė went on to study choreography at the Lithuanian Music and Theater Academy; art is truly in her DNA. Moreover, her entry point into Hands up was not its central subject – protest – but through her own body.
‘It all started during the first lockdown,’ she explains. ‘Like many people, I was looking for a way to calm down.’ She recalls a yoga pose where you extend and hold your arms out to the side. ‘Because physical pain comes immediately, you let go of your thoughts,’ she laughs. ‘It really worked on me’. As she practised the pose over and over, she began to modify it. ‘I raised my hands over my head every day for five months, from five minutes at the beginning to one and half hours at the end. I became fascinated by this gesture that embodies many different contexts: religion, praying, clubbing, wars, public violence, surrender and… protest culture.’