BAKENEKO
A documentary physical performance about trauma, the reality that lives under the skin and the blind spots of our society.
At BAKENEKO performer and creator Charlotte Goesaert herself is on stage in a physical solo about how trauma fixes itself in the body - invisible to the outside world, but all-important on the inside. The performance exposes the latent traces of child abuse and neglect, while questioning the mechanisms that perpetuate them.
Starting from conversations with people who come into contact with these issues from their social roles, Goesaert interweaves their voices, images and sound with the expressive presence of her own body. This creates a penetrating scenic experience in which documentary elements and physical imagination challenge each other.
BAKENEKO is not a search for ready-made answers, but an invitation to collective reflection. Why is it that we so often notice signals too late? Why don't we intervene more quickly? What needs to change to better protect children? How do we deal with a reality we would rather forget? Where is the line between compassion and discomfort? Goesaert immerses the audience in an experience that chafes, touches and lingers. In a world where trauma often stays under the surface, this performance invites us to focus our gaze - as citizens, professionals, parents, fellow human beings.
After whatchamacallit Charlotte Goesaert deepens her unique formal language in which image, body and sound come together in a physical, vulnerable and confrontational performance that makes visible what usually remains unseen.
This performance is also highly recommended for professionals working with these issues, from primary school teachers and leisure coaches to youth psychiatrists. What goes on inside the body around trauma usually remains invisible. BAKENEKO makes this palpable in a gentle but penetrating way.
Theatre newspaper, Wendy Lubberding:
‘When Goesaert herself detaches from the craft table and puts on a kimono or gown made of white pieces of net curtain fabric, curtain fabric and sheets, she herself becomes a projection screen. Her movements begin like a child doing a dance between sliding doors or perhaps at the weekly closing at school. Shyly swaying, showing herself as a budding dancer, with an uncertain smile and yet also an unquenchable physical pleasure. ’Very touching.'
Charlotte in interview with Dance Magazine:
‘I wanted to make the performance with The Child. The child that I was. My own self. But also with other children: you see I project a child on my bare belly. You always carry yourself as a child with you. At the end, I even dance the dance I performed as a six-year-old, when I was on a stage for the first time. As a child, dance was my survival strategy.’
