A few days before the execution of her new, one-time performance Harbour Étude in Bergen, Norway, Florentina Holzinger grants me a phone interview. “How do you feel? Are you ready?” I ask. “Yes! Actually, we think it is one of the most beautiful locations we have ever had! We are in the harbour and you can see our crane from everywhere! We love to work with elements. In Bergen, we are in touch with the force of nature. Here it rains every day and we have to deal with that!”

The enthusiasm evident in Holzinger’s vibrant voice did not diminish the challenge of the large-scale performance that she and her team were about to tackle in just a few days. Harbour Étude, commissioned by Bergen Kunsthall and curated by Nora-Swantje Almes, is part of a series of performative interventions in unconventional spaces that Holzinger has been developing since 2020. Technically, the Étude series can be defined as site-specific performance. In other words, it is neither solely theatre nor merely performance but rather a hybrid space where the two forms merge, creating a breach in reality where perspectives are overturned. Choosing a specific space is a primary—though not the only—element in creating aesthetic experiences. Every aspect of the location, from its architectural structure to natural lighting, from sounds and smells to the presence of passersby, is activated and integrated. All these elements combine to form a cohesive experience, fostering a continuous dialogue between space, performer and audience, where even the seemingly insignificant details count.

The first pieces in the Étude series include Étude for an Emergency (2020), commissioned by Münchner Kammerspiele (Munich, Germany); Étude for Disappearing (2022), commissioned by Schinkel Pavillon (Berlin, Germany); and the latest, Scrap-Étude (2023), created for the Atonal festival (Berlin, Germany). In addition to being developed in unconventional venues, these performances are executed only once and within remarkably short preparation periods, often just a few days. As Holzinger explained, “For us as a team and me creatively, Étude is an important playground for trying out things. What I like about Étude is that we can often do what we usually can’t do in a black box due to certain space limitations. Additionally, we [work] in a completely different way because we have very limited time. In Harbour Étude, for example, we have only a couple of hours to rehearse with the helicopter.” These moments of creative freedom often influence subsequent projects, as exemplified by Scrap-Étude, which played a pivotal role in shaping SANCTA (2024), her latest work and debut in opera. Florentina continued, “We make an Étude ‘fast and dirty’. We don’t overthink. It is action-based. We activate what we already have and actually, we only do it for the first time when people are there. It happens one time and never again.”

For us as a team and for me creatively, Étude is an important playground for trying out things. – Florentina Holzinger

At the same time, these events can serve as moments of connection between past and future works. Harbour Étude is a case in point. In this performance, elements from the previous performance Ophelia’s Got Talent (2022) are revisited and further developed, such as the explicit reference to water—its fluidity and ability to adapt, extend and take on myriad forms. “Étude has a physical and musical focus,” Holzinger stated. “There is a certain aim to turn the body into an instrument, to form hybrids with the machines we find and to produce sound in union. They are truly site-specific, so we are always inspired by the location where we are invited to perform. In this instance, at the harbour in Bergen, we explored what the place triggered for us. We typically activate elements already present in the space. For example, here we have this gorgeous industrial crane and the harbour is filled with ships and machinery for unloading.”

The performance took place on August 24, 2024, with the audience expected at 6 pm at the Bergen shipyard. From an initially modest gathering, the crowd quickly swelled to about 200 or more. Right from the beginning, the performance revealed a sophisticated orchestration of timing and audience expectations. After 15 minutes, we were invited to move to the dock beneath the massive crane evoking the abandoned industrial landscapes of Bernd and Hilla Becher. What was about to unfold remained unclear. At the base of this imposing industrial monument, we noticed a van with a screen on its roof. It soon became evident that the screen was broadcasting live images from a nearby boat, which was about to come into view. It took a moment to grasp the situation. Someone was attaching hooks to the skin of three suspension artists. The camera dwelled on these images: some spectators averted their eyes, while others continued to watch undeterred. In the background, a steady electronic music track emanated from strategically placed speakers, enveloping the space and creating an immersive atmosphere. This constant, persistent soundtrack heightened the visual experience. As in an orchestral concert, new elements gradually surged onto the scene, building a crescendo of sound and emotion. Eventually, nearly all elements converged: the massive crane turned toward the audience and from it, Holzinger and another performer climbed down, wearing only rubber boots and producing harmonious sounds on small bells – much smaller than the three-ton bell used in Scrap-Étude (2023).

Almost simultaneously, a helicopter hovered over the crane, carrying a large speaker suspended by a rope, which was then carefully set down on the quay. At the same time, a fishing boat approached from the sea. From it, guitarists Bláthin and otay:onii emitted harsh screams interspersed with soothing sounds, evoking the hypnotic effect of siren songs. The three suspension artists, previously captured by the intrusive camera, disembarked from the boat and slowly positioned themselves on the quay. Once there, two of them were attached to hoists as if they were mechanical components, taking on the appearance of hybrid bodies, halfway between robots and marine creatures while vigorously playing bells integrated into their mechanical bodies. The third performer, tethered by a rope to her shoulders, began to levitate upward, with blood trickling down her back. In moments, the scene, which initially recalled the irreverent performances of José Pérez Ocaña—the Spanish artist known for his radical social commentary in the 1970s—transformed into a single, grand image. The elements blended into a visual and auditory symphony, creating a collective body advancing towards the spectators.

Standing still on the quay, we witnessed an overwhelming surge with a rhythm that grew increasingly intense and energised. After about 40 minutes the performance concluded but the actions' intensity and intricate execution made it challenging to keep track of time. It took us a moment to react at the end: we remained silent, incredulous. The performance, powerful in its entirety, had a magnetic force that made it hard to believe that Holzinger and her team had only spent a few days preparing it. What was most surprising was the visual impact the images created. It was a disturbing beauty, challenging conventions and limits, confronting the fear of chaos and disorder. While Holzinger and her team undoubtedly possess a sharp sense of provocation, they are also skilled at revealing the allure of what is typically discomforting. Perhaps this left us speechless: the encounter with such an unexpected sensation. It is clear that Harbour Étude captures the audience's emotions through spectacular effects. However, it is essential to recognise that Holzinger transcends these immediate visual impacts. Her choreography of space and its elements creates a dynamic interplay beyond mere visual allure. By animating objects in active relationships, Holzinger stages performativity, establishing a more horizontal connection between humans and their environment. In this Étude, she has once again pushed the boundaries of the body and the spectacle itself, offering us a singular experience of matter's raw vitality—a momentary yet profound encounter with the ephemeral that defies replication.