Wild Bodies is a project initiated by Marta Ziółek, an artist, choreographer, and performer whose work delves into corporeality, self-creation, collectivity, and the strength of femininity. I extensively analyzed her work in my undergraduate thesis, which significantly influenced my theoretical exploration of choreography and performativity, ultimately shaping my research on social choreography for my MA.

Marta invited me to create the musical layer for the workshop, which unfolds live. I blend ambient and meditative music during the grounding segment, then transition to various styles of club music, tailoring the soundscape to the chosen narrative and dynamics. This approach parallels the collaboration between Frederic Gies and FIEDEL, who have been working together on the Dance is Ancient project for several years.

The workshop begins with the aim of fostering a space for the celebration of free bodies, focusing on community-building and the transformative power of dance. We integrate elements of dynamic meditation, footwork from club and street cultures, and trance dances, exploring diverse movement dynamics, forms of physical expression, collective resistance, and shared experiences in movement.

Can you discuss the potential therapeutic effects of dance and movement on mental health and well-being, as observed in both personal experience and scientific research? How does it translate or transcend into electronic dance music spaces?

I won’t reference specific studies here, but there has been research exploring how our bodies synchronize on a biological level when we dance together in the same space. The endorphins released during dance enhance our tolerance to pain and stress, and there are investigations into dance as a therapeutic tool for trauma recovery and conditions like Parkinson’s disease. Dancing to electronic music taps into our primal instincts, with synchronized bass frequencies that can induce a trance-like state. Much like meditation, this experience has the potential to cleanse and help us process what we wish to release.

For me, movement is essential for experiencing and transforming emotions. I engage in yoga, running, and Thai boxing, and I recognize that my well-being relies heavily on these practices. Dancing, especially within a community, is profoundly liberating. While it’s not always a euphoric experience, the right conditions can create moments I recall as some of the most beautiful in my life.

Philosophers of phenomenology, such as Max Scheler, have explored how we sensually connect with others, often concluding that such moments are limited to sexual experiences. I would argue that those rare and precious instances of shared euphoria on the dance floor also deserve recognition in this context.

I saw you reference Joseph Beyus’ work in the past. If you were to draw inspiration from his performances and translate them into a nightclub setting, what elements or concepts would you incorporate?

I’m particularly drawn to initiatives focused on community building, social utopias, and fostering sustainable change through art. As he once stated, “To form the social order like a sculpture – this is my life’s task and the task of art in general.”

I admire Beuys’ projects, such as the Free International University for Creativity and Interdisciplinary Research (FIU), which he founded in Düsseldorf in 1973. This alternative educational institution aimed to provide free access to learning, promote interdisciplinary exchange, and nurture creativity to help build a better society. Another remarkable initiative is 7000 Eichen – Stadtverwaldung statt Stadtverwaltung (7000 Oak Trees – Reforestation of the City Instead of City Administration), which he developed for the documenta 7 exhibition in Kassel.

Both in these endeavors and in his more “object-oriented” works, such as those involving felt or performance, there’s a simplicity that resonates deeply. They powerfully articulate the emotions, needs, and longings we all experience but often struggle to express.

Can you share insights into the creative process behind your sets, from initial idea to execution on the dancefloor?

The approach I take to building sets always depends on the purpose and circumstances, but I used to create them with a strong narrative structure. Early in my DJ career, I often arranged tracks meticulously, especially when I wanted to prepare thoroughly. Now, I lean more towards an intuitive flow, but I find myself increasingly drawn to constructing sets that emphasize the nuances of sound and dynamics. I enjoy shifting the atmosphere frequently, blending genres, and experimenting with different styles.

I’m particularly impressed by DJs who can build tension and create seamless mixes that feel almost effortless. Moving forward, I plan to focus on refining this aspect of my DJing while also expanding my vinyl collection, potentially with a greater emphasis on techno than before

How do you balance between fulfilling audience expectations and challenging musical boundaries when making selections for a gig in Poland?

Lately, I’ve been reflecting on how my inspirations and musical innovations primarily stem from the West – broadly speaking – particularly from the bass and house scenes of British and Berlin-centric techno, along with a handful of labels and artists from other European countries. Charting my own course beyond these influences isn’t easy; it demands significant time dedicated to digging for and listening to music.

Nonetheless, I’ve found that what I present in my sets is ultimately filtered through my taste and intuition, allowing me to craft a unique narrative from the combinations I choose. I believe a DJ's role is to promote new music, share the fruits of personal exploration, and highlight timeless gems, all while balancing these elements to create an enjoyable, captivating experience that reflects my own vision and resonates with the audience.

How has the Polish DJ culture evolved over the years, and what influence did it have on shaping the music scene?

I recently wrote an article exploring my perspective on club culture in Poland, coinciding with an exhibition about Warsaw's clubs in the 1990s. One of my central arguments is that this culture, like many others, encompasses multiple aesthetic and ideological dimensions.

In Poland, we observe a division between the techno scene that aspires to the Western model and a native scene rooted in the rave tradition, particularly inspired by the iconic Manieczki club in the Wielkopolska countryside, with Wixapol as its primary representative. The recent premiere of the documentary “Rave” has sparked a debate highlighting the aesthetic tensions between these two communities.

This situation reflects the classic divide between mainstream and underground cultures – those who view music as pure entertainment versus those who see it as a platform for political engagement. We also grapple with the commodification of the electronic music scene and the lack of systemic support. However, I deeply appreciate the vitality of our community, marked by the emergence of new, youthful collectives and the enduring presence of major festivals like Up To Date in Białystok. These events remind us that our community is vibrant and essential. Many individuals are tirelessly working at the grassroots level to shape, develop, and professionalize this scene.

How do you see the gender balance and representation of women and queer artists within Poland's electronic music scene today? You’ve been active in this matter yourself.

Since I began organizing events with the FLAUTA collective, which includes benefit events for those with refugee experiences, I’ve consistently aimed for an equitable representation of women and men in the lineup. Eight years ago, achieving this was nearly impossible, but today, the landscape has shifted significantly!

Awareness is evolving, thanks to the dedicated efforts of various bookers, promoters, and artists, particularly the Oramics collective, which has long championed the visibility of women and queer individuals. While I still encounter lineups that feature only men – something I always notice – I see this as part of a broader issue of political engagement. There will always be those indifferent to ethics in club culture, unwilling to advocate for parity. Fortunately, change is on the horizon, and the increasing presence of women and queer people in the scene makes it impossible to overlook.

What role do local clubs and venues play in helping new talent grow and build a sense of community in Poland's electronic music scene?

I believe that clubs with regular programming are vital for sustaining and developing the scene. Unfortunately, we’re currently facing a crisis in this area, especially in Warsaw. The number of places to party is dwindling to just a handful. The cooperative club Pogłos, which once hosted a wide range of initiatives and collectives, has succumbed to gentrification and the pressures of developers. Meanwhile, clubs like Jasna 1 are often undervalued, and the future of newer venues like K-Bar Powiśle remains uncertain.

Reflecting on the current situation in Georgia, I wish we in Poland would better appreciate the opportunities, freedoms, and economic conditions we still have, especially considering how recently they were threatened by the pandemic. On a brighter note, the scene of collectives and independent promoters is quite dynamic, with new DJs and producers continually emerging. The Ukrainian community also plays a significant role in energizing the scene. I hope that in the near future, we can focus on uniting and supporting the venues we have, rather than allowing further divisions and complaints to arise.

Let’s spread some love: which musicians deserve more attention in your opinion?

I recommend keeping an eye on the works of Earth Trax, Rethe, Yes Stanley, naked relaxing.

Lastly, how do you reflect on the current political situation in Poland? And how does it affect you personally?

I live in a metropolitan bubble, yet the last eight years under the right-wing Law and Justice party have profoundly impacted me, as well as many women and members of the LGBTQ+ community. We took to the streets during the Black Protests to voice our outrage over limited access to safe abortion, inadequate sex education, and proposals to make the morning-after pill illegal. Such regressive measures in the 21st century have left us feeling angry and fearful, deprived of our rights to make decisions about our own bodies. As someone involved in the arts, I have also been affected by the political changes within cultural institutions.

Fortunately, following the elections last October, we are witnessing a shift. Key directors at major Polish museums are being replaced, and new competitions are being organized – bringing a long-awaited sense of relief, though it still feels hard to trust this change. The unification of the opposition is being likened to the events of 1989 and the rise of "Solidarity." However, no one is naively optimistic that everything will improve overnight. Politics remains deeply intertwined with the Catholic Church, and issues like the lack of civil unions, same-sex marriage, and legal abortion continue to loom large.

Moreover, a humanitarian crisis persists on the Polish-Belarusian border, where refugees, often caught in dire situations due to Lukashenko's actions, face severe hardships, with only activists and NGOs stepping in to help. Poland is increasingly divided, with two radically different narratives emerging, and nationalism is gaining strength, reflecting trends seen throughout Europe.