The Manifest (EN)
Performance artists are the night-kneaders who bring the night back to life.
Move, live, break through, connect, and feel through shared breath.
That is exactly the role performance art plays in nightlife and it is my identity and mission is to inhabit and expand that space.
What I see now is a kind of deification of DJs with lineups that list only DJs, crowds moving in one direction like a religious ode to the speaker. Every social yap-session is frowned upon while people move through the dark chasing their next high. This stereotypical image is repeated again and again, dance floors keep getting emptier, and Amsterdam’s clubs are running at a loss.
Even within this deification, the hard work and preparation of DJs and producers goes unnoticed by about 80 percent of the audience because there’s simply too much distance between an artist’s story and the public. I see performance art as the bridge that stands between the music artist and the crowd. A performance artist, the night-kneader, can translate the story or intention of the DJs and club organizers to the audience.
Even community-focused events in Amsterdam’s queer scene that *do* give performance artists some space often don’t put them on the lineup. Why? I certainly would have gone to an event if I knew those night-kneaders were working there. But without consistently putting performance artists on the flyer or the lineup, the value of their presence can’t even be tested. Put them forward. Give nightlife the chance to experience the value of these night-kneaders.
At this moment, autumn 2025 in Amsterdam, the city’s club culture is under pressure. It’s expected that within the next 5 to 10 years, a large part of the club scene may disappear. A shame!
First, I want to acknowledge several legitimate reasons for this.
Clubs say that new regulations, city boundaries, and the reliance on temporary buildings/permits make it extremely difficult for them to survive.
What also threatens survival is half-empty dance floors. In my view, this is partly a result of the cost-of-living crisis, which (yes, also) exists in Amsterdam. With our oat-milk-elite style of elitism, we hardly dare to admit that we’re struggling financially and often have to shrink our grocery budget for a week after a night out.
You also see that the pandemic generation never actually learned how to go out. They weren’t thrown into nightlife at a young age (18), leaving a large portion of the 22–25 demographic missing from the dance floor.
Even though when I’m on stage I want to be fully in the here and now, I believe we can learn from the history of nightlife. We can take that knowledge with us in shaping the night today. Below are a few highlights from periods of growth in nightlife:
The Piper group in Italy (1965–1975)
The first Piper in Rome, by the Radical Design group, quickly made a name for itself by adding unique post-war architecture, interior design, and strong political ideas to nightlife. It boosted Italian social life so much that within three years they opened three more clubs in Turin, Florence, and Rimini.
Studio 54 (1977–1980)
This iconic New York club was a hub for artists from all social corners. Art gained greater meaning in nightlife because it was valued more highly than social background. Interdisciplinary art in nightlife brought social change.
The Club Kids (1980)
A social-artistic movement of artists with interactive personas in London nightlife. The performers who shaped the night brought it into everyday life through talk shows and popular culture. To this day, references to the Club Kids appear in fashion and queer nightlife scenes.
Leigh Bowery and Taboo (1985)
Perhaps the most famous performance artist in nightlife from that period. Bowery founded Club Taboo, where interdisciplinary art was the norm. Bowery inspired fashion, painting, and countless art forms through their visually powerful persona.
De Roxy (1987–1999)
Our own Amsterdam venue: a queer and theatrical nightclub. The Roxy is a perfect example of interdisciplinary nightlife and played a major role in the growth of the scene. Years later, it still symbolizes the glory of Amsterdam’s nightlife.
During the periods mentioned above, nightlife was a place where art grew and culture became richer. Where new identities were discovered and celebrated. Where new fashion movements were displayed and became part of the night’s landscape.
The minimizing of performance (and interdisciplinary) art in today’s night has led to a world where everyone at a kink party is wearing the same Zara harness made through child labour, and no one even knows what a harness is meant for anymore. The night has been sanitized, diminished, stripped of fantasy and creative fire.
A little about the writer: I’m a 28-year-old performance artist working in dance and drag. I perform both in theatre and in nightlife (and at festivals). Over the past four years, I’ve created theatre pieces about nightlife and spent a lot of time philosophizing about it. I’ve also experimented with many forms of performance in night spaces; on the bar, among the crowd, on the stage, or in an inflatable pool. In different media too: screens, sound, music, silence, a cappella singing, amplified spoken theatre, and, of course, the classic dance-lip-sync on stage more often than not.
My experience is that performance artists are often banished by programmers to the small side room, or sometimes even literally outside (in front of the club door). That’s unfortunate, though somewhat understandable, because on many nights a performance on the main stage can disrupt the flow of the night. Programmers fear breaking the vibe of the dance floor by interrupting a flirting couple on their way to the darkroom or cooling down bodies that have just begun to dance.
But this doesn’t have to be the case!
I dream of organizers who have a clear intention for each night and who understand the type of audience that intention attracts by curating the night accordingly.
Examples of nighttime intentions can be as simple as dancing and pleasure, but think a little deeper: it can also be political resistance, spotlighting the lived experiences of communities that need attention, cultivating empathy, lowering social barriers, or expanding fantasy by realizing aesthetic dreams.
Choosing artists based on that intention and having conversations beforehand about their plans for the night, so you can decide who goes where in the lineup. This may sound like programming basics, but a step is often missing.
On top of that, I dream of organizers who introduce artists to one another. Not just backstage, but before the event to encourage conversation and collaboration. That way you create space to think together about transitions within the lineup itself, and to build collaborations across disciplines (Music/Performance/Visual Art, etc.).
Artists carry the night (its intention and its connection), so give them these tools (make the connections, provide space) so your event can land at a more personal, memorable level. You can even have more control over the audience’s experience and the event’s intention. And yes, you can still create room for those warm, flirting bodies in your club.
Connection between the artists creates smoother transitions between acts (from DJ to performance, for example) and strengthens the event and the broader nightlife network.
Performance art builds a bridge between art and audience.
Create space in nightlife for interdisciplinary growth. Visual art and fashion go hand in hand.
Give your night a purpose: where is your social commentary or your activism?
Learn from history and let nightlife grow again.
Tear down the DJ altar and let performance artists knead the night. Play with attention, anonymity and visually tell the story that DJs try in vain to convey. Give space so the night can live again.
I want to play, strike deep chords, inspire visually, break down walls, and help nightlife grow again. Learn from the moments when nightlife became a sensation-an interactive exhibition of interdisciplinary art with a purpose.
Move, live, break through, connect, and feel through shared breath.
With love,
your little powerhouse
