Independent Contemporaneity
As part of the collaboration with the TRIGGER festival, two in-depth analytical essays are produced by Karolina Bugajak and Metod Zupan. The texts connect the productions included in the festival’s programme and reflect on their aesthetic approaches, production models, and broader social and artistic contexts. Slovenian version of the text can be found here.
About the ethics, aesthetics and contexts that shaped this year’s Trigger selection and beyond
Slovenian independent scene of non-dramatic performing arts, in my view, does not exist – at least not in the same way as the institutional theatre scene, the contemporary dance scene, or the off-off scene of circus artists, drag performers, street performers, clowns, and others.
I am writing about something that does not exist. About the Slovenian independent scene of non-dramatic performing arts1 The seventh TRIGGER Showcase Festival 2026 is part of the TRIGGER platform, whose aim is to promote Slovenian independent performing arts production and to strengthen the position of independent producers and artists in both local and international contexts. The festival is therefore not conceived as a comprehensive or representative overview of the Slovenian independent performing arts scene, for two main reasons: (1) it generally does not include contemporary dance (which in Slovenia constitutes a fully non-institutionalised field of production), but is primarily focused on postdramatic and devised theatre, installative formats, performance art, and hybrid forms; (2) the festival presents exclusively productions by its partner organisations (Gledališče Glej, Bunker, Maska, Moment Maribor, Motovila, Mesto žensk, Pekinpah, Via Negativa) and does not operate with a selector who would survey the entire field and select works according to criteria such as diversity, representativeness, quality, and similar considerations. , which, in my view, does not exist – at least not in the same way as the institutional theatre scene, the contemporary dance scene, or the off-off scene of circus artists, drag performers, street performers, clowns, and others. A scene – with all its porous edges – is an imagined community, built upon infrastructure and common working principles that generate spatial or social meeting points. These include common academies, genres and artistic approaches, as well as theatre festivals. Artists who are said to belong to this scene, however, as a rule neither study at the same academie(s) nor encounter one another at the same festival(s). It also doesn’t have a dedicated section in the theatre yearbook that would generate a common reflection.
The independent performing arts scene (excluding contemporary dance) is, in contrast to contemporary dance and other scenes, significantly more porous. It brings together theatre artists seeking to experiment outside institutional frameworks as well as contemporary dance makers who wish to step beyond strictly codified dance procedures, among others. It functions as a meeting ground for a wide range of practices, actors, aesthetics, and thematic concerns. As its very name suggests – independent – it nevertheless has its Other: the dramatic principle and institutionalisation. The consequence of the systematic state neglect of the independent scene, which we have witnessed since Slovenia’s independence, is – as Bojan Jablanovec has pointed out back in 2017 – ‘the emergence of ever smaller productions that are simultaneously increasingly fragmented and ever more invisible.’2 Bojan Jablanovec: “Ubijanje neodvisne scene ali zakaj potrebujemo center sodobnih scenskih umetnosti” v: Maska, Volume 32, Issue 187-188, Dec 2017, p. 24 – 25. Contemporary independent practice is therefore marked, both in terms of its production needs and its aesthetic ambitions, by a ‘sustained questioning of existing structures and by the development of alternative production models. Through inventive creative processes, it continually expands, reinvents, and redefines its own field of practice. Independent production is also crucial to the vitality of institutional practice, which gradually adopts its creative methods, formats, and performative strategies. The independent scene is a generator of contemporaneity.’3 Ibid.
But just as the independent scene is a generator of contemporaneity to institutions, so too is the off-off scene a generator of contemporaneity to the independent scene, and sometimes – I would argue – vice-versa.
But just as the independent scene is a generator of contemporaneity to institutions, so too is the off-off4 Just as on Broadway, the predicate off or off-off marks the number of seats in a given theatre hall. But unlike Broadway, almost all of the relevant slovenian theatrespace is subsidised either by state of municipal money, – to the independent scene – by public grants and open calls. scene a generator of contemporaneity to the independent scene, and sometimes – I would argue – vice-versa. The two scenes are places of both aesthetic experimentation and quick artistic response to pressing social issues and aesthetic research. In the following pages, I will try to show how social issues such as war, gender and class struggle; as well as artistic principles, such as performance art and devised theater inspired and generated contemporary performance practices in Slovenia, dedicating in depth view to performances selected for this year’s TRIGGER festival.
Performance in times of nearby war and broadcast genocide
Recent theatrical production has been significantly marked by the genocide in Gaza, which, combined with its constant media broadcasting, has compelled a broader artistic field towards a metatheatrical response and towards a more direct, more total form of theatre.
Nevertheless, these concerns have been far more present on the off(-off) scene, they haven’t however directly made this year’s TRIGGER selection. Although not considered controversial by the general audiences of contemporary theatre here, I can’t help but think that foreign bans and censorship of such topics might have something to do with their absence.
The monodrama Ahmed Masud’s The Shroud Maker,5 Izdelovalka mrtvaških prtov, d. Ivan Peternelj(Association for Art AVGUS and ŠKUC Theatre, 2025). for instance, guided audiences through the life story of a Palestinian woman who makes burial shrouds even now, that the materials are scarce and the demand great. Christopher Hampton’s A German Life6 Nemško življenje, d. Alen Jelen (ŠKUC Theatre, Pionirski teater, Zavod Kolaž, 2025). although set in nazi-era Germany resonated strongly with current concerns of awareness and agency in times of rising fascism. In performative terms, however, the genre-hybrid cabaret Al Ghawazi and Khawalat7 (SIDE collective and Clay Theatre, 2024). proved more compelling, also advancing a more radical conceptual proposition: “to reclaim queerness as statelessness.”
Part of the broader cycle of performative manifestations Migrantski $u$p€nz (2024) by Danijela Zajc8 (Danijela Zajc, Društvo Mismo Nismo, Društvo Matafir, 2024). addressed migration and refuge at the moment when these issues once again became politically urgent after 2015. Situating the work directly on the Kolpa river, where many refugees have drowned. Since 7 October 2023, an increasing number of performances have begun to address the question of genocide more directly, joining works that emerged in response to the outbreak od war in Ukraine. Relatively quickly, these themes also entered institutional theatres9 (Mlado mladinsko: The Art of War, the Art of Peace , d. Ana Duša – SMG, 2024; Oliver Frljić: Inkubator – SMG, 2025) as well as the programmes of festivals.10 Arkadi Zaides’s Necropolis (2019) was for example featured in the 2024 edition of CoFestival.
Nevertheless, these concerns have been far more present on the off(-off) scene, they haven’t however directly made this year’s TRIGGER selection. Although not considered controversial by the general audiences of contemporary theatre here, I can’t help but think that foreign bans and censorship of such topics might have something to do with their absence.
A feminist concern for gender and sexual dynamics
In 2022, two productions of Tony Kushner’s Angels in America11 (1) Mini Theatre, 2022, d. Ivica Buljan; (2) Slovensko mladinsko gledališče, 2022, d. Nina Rajić Kranjac. broke through the longstanding silence surrounding gay themes in institutional theatre. Although gender-nonconforming characters do appear on stage frequently, they are still typically relegated to minor supporting roles or framed in stereotypical ways. On the off and off-off scenes, however, such content is far more prevalent. Rok Kravanja explored the collision between his sexual orientation and his relationship with his father in the performance Slovenska transverzala12 Via Negativa, Moment, Zavod Odprti predali, 2024. ; meanwhile, at the 62nd Linhart Meeting – the largest festival of amateur theatre groups in Slovenia – the main prize was awarded to The Day It Snowed,13 Dan ko je padel sneg, d. Ajdin Huzejrović (Gledališki studio Dramatikon Kranj, 2024). a production that, despite its postdramatic appearance, remains anchored in clearly defined dramatic parameters.
The topic of identity – not just gender and sexuallity, also nationality14 I’d remiss if in this instance I didn’t mention Rada Kovačević’s Izgubljena ovca (Rada Kovačević, Zavod En–Knap, 2025) that also brings personal heritage into choreography and dramaturgy; and Loup Abramovici’s Autant pour moi! My mistake! Moja napaka! (Via Negativa, 2025) that explores both the nonnormative and the normative elements of the performer’s identity. and class, although the latter less frequently – seem to permeate contemporary performance theatre in Slovenia, whic I attribute to both the reflectiveness and nonnormative identities of artists, and also a shift into the personal is political of the second wave feminism, that in a way is still going strong. A step further lie queer aesthetics and politics, which institutional theatres consistently avoid, yet remain very much alive on the independent scene. By this, the latter is basically the only space in Slovenia, where we can see nonnormative bodies onstage.
The most prominent and longstanding production is probably Tehnoburlesque: Image Snatchers (Emanat, 2013–), although newer pieces like Küšni me by Leon Marič (Emanat, 2024), and the major undertaking of the local drag scene Kvirkago (Društvo Štikla, 2025) prove that these themes are ongoing.
Feminism is likewise more firmly rooted in the off scene, where the cabaret format proves particularly suitable, both in terms of content and production. In Slovenia – and previously in Yugoslavia – cabaret has had a relatively limited tradition compared to Western metropolitan contexts. Here feminist concerns are articulated through projects such as ZIZ Kabaret, Lezbična četrt, and FEM TV, especially in their engagement with reproductive rights, motherhood, sexism, and chauvinism. Be it in a format that blends puppets with improvisation, kinging with lipsyncing, of video art with stand-up.
The theme of sex work has also notably been present the last couple of years, for instance in the projects Now, Suddenly, I Was a Creature of Vice15 D. Lučka Neža Peterlin (Zavod Maska, Zavod Delak, 2025). and Čokolina Porn Booth.16 Čokolina Pornokabina, d. Lina Akif (Zavod Maska, 2024). These two – being produced by the same organization, who also delves in publishing – are easily traced back to the interest in the topic that Zavod Maska cultivates in the context of care, class struggle and gender and sexuality.
Another subset of feminist issues, the more metatheatrical feminist issues, was articulated by Jasna Jasna Žmak, in her performance This is my truth tell me yours (Centar za dramsku umjetnost, Zagreb, Via Negativa, 2023), which was directly or indirectly referenced in the subsequent couple of years by performances such as Heroj 4.0 17 D. Uroš Kaurin and Vito Weis (Moment, Gledališče Glej, 2023). and Katja Legin’s A House. A Home.18 Hiša. Dom. (Studio za raziskavo umetnosti igre, 2023). that further incorporated the question of audience’s consent in participation. But just when it seemed that these questions would now be inevitably incorporated into the fabric of contemporary performance – just as the 15 minute delay in starting a performance is considered self – evident – the momentum was sadly lost the year after.
1. Varja Hrvatin: Sukeban (Mesto žensk – City of Women, Cankarjev dom, 2024)
Varja Hrvatin, who studied dramaturgy and scriptwriting, is one of the most prolific creators on the independent scene, with one of the most recognizable artistic voices and a consistent continuous interest in contemporary technologies19 Besides Hrvatin, the other theater artist most dedicated to technological themes and online culture is Jan Rozman. on the intersection of gender dynamics, that often manifest within her explorations of gamification of theatrical experiences. Her work is characterized by a poetic language and themes that resonate primarily with contemporary femininity, and a clear critique of chauvinism.
Whether in online experiences like Najraje bi se udrla v zemljo (Zavod Melara, 2021), staged within a virtual Facebook group, or in the delivery app of Zelda (Hrvatin and Slovensko mladinsko gledališče, 2021), a choose-your-own-adventure performance where the audience votes on both characters and story outcomes, or in Vse se je nadaljevalo z zmrznjenimi jastogi (Hrvatin, 2024), where visitors confront endometriosis and sexism through computer interactions – Hrvatin creates innovative interactive worlds, and thus gives her audiences agency they too often lack.
In the performance Sukeban – named after Japanese female street gangs that emerged as a counterweight to exclusively male gangs – Hrvatin presents a feminist inspectorate, intentionally focusing not on systemic or political solutions but on guerrilla, grassroots anti-sexist initiatives worldwide. Beyond the artist’s own affinity for this approach, I have always seen such trust in small initiatives over the disinchantment with the possibility for state solutions as a result of successful local projects in Slovenia: Inštitut 8. marec, the feminist program Sektor Ž, the feminist festivals City of Women/Mesto žensk and Rdeče zore, and others. It should also not be overlooked that Slovenia was the first country to enshrine Article 55 in its Constitution, which also inspired a performance in Mladinsko theatre.20 55. člen, d. Tjaša Črnigoj (Slovensko mladinsko gledališče, 2025).
Dramaturgically Sukeban bombards the audience with information and imagery: explaining, illustrating, and ironizing, achieving a sense of completeness in its clashing elements. Characteristic of Hrvatin are also her young teams of collaborators, a vibe that is not overly serious or heavy-handed as to be a downer, visuals drawn from contemporary video games, and retro-influenced soundscapes.
2. Barbara Kukovec, Katarina Stegnar, Urška Brodar: The Art of Living: The Act of Killing (Mladinsko Theatre, Rizoma Institute and City of Women, 2025)
Male violence against women is also directly addressed in the performance The Art of Living: The Act of Killing, as its title alone already indicates. The Art of Living began as an artivist extension of the performance Sweet Worries (Nova pošta, 2023), in which the artist Barbara Kukovec translated notable feminist works from the history of performance art into the form of recipes. She then brought these into the environment that needed them, yet unlike the urban bubble, it had no prior knowledge of them: the countryside.
Not only does Kukovec herself come from the countryside, but attempts to spread progressive leftist art to rural areas have a long tradition in Slovenia. Undoubtedly, activist actions, contemporary translations of Édouard Louis, Didier Eribon and Annie Ernaux, and broader decentralization efforts by the Ministry of Culture have contributed to this. For Kukovec, however, one thing matters more: the act of killing (in slovene version of the title: murder in the countryside) – a femicide that took place in 2024 near her hometown. This intrusion of reality significantly shaped the final outcome, and gave it an immediacy, it otherwise might have lacked.
It seems that murders of women are more explicitly addressed on stage, placed within the context of the legacy of patriarchy and chauvinism, and are more prominently present both in theatre and in the daily press, from the #MeToo movement and campaigns like Yes Means Yes and My Voice My Choice on. In the spirit of these initiatives, The Art of Living: The Act of Killing also reflects on microaggressions and forms of violence that are not named as such and have therefore long been overlooked, even in contemporary performing arts circles and processes.
As noted in the conclusion of the curatorial report on the program selection for the 56th Week of Slovenian Drama by Zala Dobovšek, ‘gender inscription very concretely inhabits the performances themselves. Perhaps never before (in institutions or the independent scene) has one of the fundamental feminist questions been so clearly emphasized: “What experiences does a male body go through in life, and what experiences does a female or other non-normative body?” […] The increasing number of performances guided by feminist principles is therefore neither a “trend” nor a passing “fashion,” but a moment long overdue to speak and flourish within the performance space.’
Based on the performances she viewed, Dobovšek identifies a dichotomy that seems almost bizarre in its radicalism, yet I agree: ‘while male creators typically indulge in imagining the future, women are concerned with the present. Men speak of God, women of human rights. Men speculate about what comes after death, women about surviving until death.’ This distinction most clearly encapsulates the specificity of works by female creators, perhaps most evident in The Art of Living.
Performatively, the piece combines documentary approaches with those more common in performance art. Credit is due not only to the material of the performance itself but also to the collaboration of Kukovec with co-creator Katarina Stegnar, who was like Kukovec a frequent collaborator of Via Negativa and the festival Performance, once co-curated by another co-creator Urška Brodar.
3. The Igralke Collective and Rajna Racz: Mothers (Igralke Collective; House Nahero; Ulysses Theatre; Maska Ljubljana, 2025)
Performers Sendi Sotlar, Vanda Velagić, Ana Marija Brđanović and Anja Sabol formed a collective that selects its own directors, as such autonomy is generally unavailable to actresses within the institutional theatre system. The tradition of such creative undertakings is not unheard of in Slovenian context (e.g. Beton Ltd., The Feminalz, Počemučka, Za Crknt, Mismo Nismo …). They therefore work within the independent scene to fully exploit the freedoms it allows. As they once wrote: ‘we carry out our projects as authors, performers, and producers. We create collectively devised theatre inspired by personally and politically urgent topics, and with each new production we rearticulate our working methodology together with our collaborators, exploring forms of authorial and documentary theatre, with ethics inseparable from aesthetics.’
Their first project to resonate strongly in Slovenia was the documentary performance Grandmothers.21 Bakice, d. Tjaša Črnigoj (Kolektiv Igralke, Savez udruga Molekula (Reka), KUD Transformator, 2020). Like their subsequent works, it is based on women’s testimonies – in this case, those of elderly impoverished Croatin women who receive only minimal financial compensation for collecting bottles. Their next production, Girls,22 Cure, d. Tjaša Črnigoj (Slovensko mladinsko gledališče, MASKA Ljubljana, 2023). explores menstruation, first sexual experiences, and abortion (legally permitted in Croatia but often practically inaccessible due to conscientious objection), drawing on the experiences of both their own generation and their mothers. The performance is narrative-driven and minimally physical, with performers dressed in traditional folk costumes symbolizing purity.
In Majke (Mothers, directed by Rajna Racz), which confronts the question of whether or not to have children, the performers wear leggings that evoke the figure of the prehistoric Venus statuettes. The aesthetic of shamanism permeates the piece, establishing a sense of self-evidence and pre-discursivity, and a seemingly logical equation: woman = mother. This equation is then subverted similarly to their traditional costumes of Girls. At the same time, the shamaness figure offers an alternative form of femininity in which non-motherhood is permissible. In addition to broader social expectations (Catholicism in Croatian society is still very strong), the performance also critiques the state’s instrumentalisation of motherhood. The reintroduction of conscription in Croatia last year is also explicitly referenced.
Motherhood is likewise a highly present theme in the Slovenian context.23 E.g. Krik: Mama, Kolektiv REAKTOR (Gledališče Glej, 2024); Prva beseda je mama, Vranica, d. Brina Klampfer Merčnik (SNG Drama Ljubljana, 2025); Mašina, d. Bojana Robinson (Zavod za sodobno umetniško prakso in teorijo 0.1, 2024). All of this attests to the persistence and resilience of traditional values and norms that, in ostensibly secular societies, should have been dismantled at least two generations ago. This context also includes the performance Article 5524 55. člen, d. Tjaša Črnigoj (Slovensko mladinsko gledališče, 2025). and the lecture-performance series Sex Education II,25 D. Tjaša Črnigoj (Slovensko mladinsko gledališče, Maska Ljubljana, Mesto žensk, 2023). both authored by a frequent collaborator of the collective, Tjaša Črnigoj.
Engaging with themes of class struggle
While I wouldn’t say that the independent performing arts scene never addresses poverty, working conditions and the class struggle, the most prevalent forms of this address are metatheatrical. Works such as Vrečka presenečenja26 Antologija krika I.: Vrečka presenečenja d. Tina Habun (Zavod Nest, 2024). and LP27 LP (Lep pozdrav/Long Play/Live Performance) d. Kolektiv Yebba (Kolektiv Yebba, 2024). and Še en solo28 Še en Solo, d. Petra Peček (Plesni teater Ljubljana, Büro für Tanz | Theater, ART SPACE stift millstatt, 2025). explicitly describe how hard it is to be a performing artist, in a performance piece. Olja Grubić’s To Our Delight and Neja Tomšič, Natalija Vujošević and Tara Langford‘s Jadran Resort however present a more nuanced take on the subject, that is not so flashy and fun, but still manages not to get overlooked.
1. Olja Grubić: To Our Delight (Maska Ljubljana, Via Negativa, 2025)
Rounding out the feminist-themed performances in this year’s selection, starting to touch upon class struggle – and offering something that is not narration-based in any stylistic sense – is the performative act To Our Delight. It functions as a kind of performative installation for collective use, as critic Nika Arhar described it. To properly situate the work, however, we need to look back to the year 2020, when Maska: Performing Arts Journal published its jubilee 200th issue. Alongside a retrospective gaze, the occasion called for a look ahead, and the concept of Yugofuturism (abbreviated YUFU) was coined – firmly grounded in theories of speculative futures and in the methodology of Afrofuturism. Several years later, Maska Ljubljana revived futurism as a multidisciplinary research project, that content-wise brings something different to contemporary performing arts discourses. This initiative culminated last year in the event series Futurisms, within the framework of which To Our Delight was created alongside other works.
The work invites us to embrace the chaos of contemporary life and, through its participatory approach, reassures us that this can be done collectively. Other nuances remain open to interpretation due to the installative nature of the piece. Nevertheless, its very materiality clearly directs us toward questions of gender(ed) and care (alongside Grubić, her frequent collaborators Anita Wach and Nina Goropečnik are also present), questions of living space (the creators build small houses out of biscuits), and a constant element in the work of Olja Grubić: food. The latter brings together a kaleidoscope of associations, ranging from reproductive labour to the intersection of the private and the social, and ultimately the political. Grubić has explored this motif most explicitly in her Extima series, where she examined what it means today to be a living being in a living world.
A graduate of the Academy of Visual Arts in Ljubljana, Grubić did not begin her career in theatre. Her professional practice spans visual and performance art, as well as costume and set design (as, for example, in The Art of Living: The Act of Killing). Her work is often marked by sharp wit and irony, qualities that also characterised her earlier collaborations with Cabaret Tiffany. She frequently works across media such as installation, video, photography, and performance – for instance in Ikebana (2024), where, in reference to the Japanese art of flower arranging, she arranges flowers within her own vagina. The radical nature of her work has also made her an easy target for far-right discourses on so-called “degenerate art,” which last year most visibly attacked fellow artist Maja Smrekar. A testament, that contemporary art is not to be taken for granted in times of political upheavals. A testament, which is not nearly in the forefront of contemporary production.
2. Natalija Vujošević, Tara Langford, Neja Tomšič: Jadran Resort (Gledališče Glej, 2024)
Neja Tomšič, like Olja Grubić, did not begin her career as a theatre-maker. After completing her studies at the Academy of Fine Arts, pursuing a doctorate in the humanities, and working as a writer, poet, and producer, Tomšič (initially almost by coincidence) entered the field of performance. Ranging from research and storytelling to entirely idiosyncratic practices, this makes her – as Miha Colner has noted – ‘despite the oft-cited breadth and openness of contemporary art, today an almost radical gesture, as it runs counter to the postulates of the cultural industry, which demands consistency, continuity, and the repetition of already proven formulas in order to achieve broader recognition (Likovne besede, 2023).’
Both in her collective work with the Nonument Group (i.e. McKeldin Fountain (2018), From Nowhere to Nowhere: The Pioneer Railway (2020), The Circle (2022)) and in her individual projects (Tea for Five: Opium Clippers (Gledališče Glej, 2017)), Tomšič has been driven by a pronounced passion for knowledge. The topics she engages with concern cultural histories whose narratives are deliberately obscured by dominant systemic mechanisms – from gentrification to the opioid economy – often lending her research a quasi-conspiratorial quality, as she herself once described it. The knowledge she accumulates necessarily implies critical reflection and a need for dissemination. For Tomšič, the mode of presenting her findings always demands a careful consideration of the most appropriate medium and approach, one that repeatedly reveals both the strengths and limitations of each form.
In her most recent work, Jadran Resort (created in collaboration with Natalija Vujošević and Tara Langford), she explores ‘the transformation of territories and societies whose futures are shaped by the investment risks of international developers and by their subordination to the needs of temporary tourists.’
… and many others
In terms of content, the off scene more generally reveals increasingly explicit engagements with politically and socially charged themes: in addition to those already mentioned, these include critiques of populism, nationalism and conspiratorial thinking, such as the work of Jaka Andrej Vojevec.29 Od paleolita do Twita (Društvo Matafir, Vojevec, 2021); Konspirološki kabaret (Društvo Matafir, 2024); V ritmu algoritma (Pionirski teater, 2024); Ja, ja!, d. Jaša Jenull (Kolektiv Variete Balkan, 2025). Vojevec was also one of the first to metatheatrically problematize platform algorithms and machine learning, a theme that seemingly hasn’t yet rocked the scene as one might expect given its proliferation. Another theme that is frequently present especially in site specific performances, such as those by Danijela Zajc is ecology. Special themes such as turistification and gentrification also inspired the cabaret Wonton girls and the sound walk Memodrom (Cina, 2025). Although I have only scratched the surface, I think that the aforementioned themes are most crucial to a beginner’s guide to slovenian independent theater.
Devised theater, the last hurrah of the postdramatic turn
To some performances, more crucial to their content, is their form, which is why, I from here-on want to focus on the two major aesthetics, methodologies and processes that shape both this year’s Trigger selection and contemporary independent theatre as a whole.
Became practically synonymous with the term contemporary noninstitutional theater in Slovenia, to the point of self-evidence, the most prominent methodology is without a doubt devised theatre, or at least postdramatic influences. It must be noted however that this approach has begun to also precipitate into institutions, most notably Slovensko mladinsko gledališče, where it seems to compose half of its artistic output. Not only is a devised approach per definitore more open to experimentation, which is – as I have shown – one of the main reasons artists that have access to institutions choose to also work independently, it also seems to be more open to different contents. To put it another way, both the formats and approaches given artists from this scene choose, are a reflection of their own interests, or on the intersection of interests of them and their collaborators.
Similarly, the themes they work with, are also sometimes very personal, and because they don’t have bigger groups of collaborators like institutions, they allow themselves to delve into personal interests and poetics. Formal or thematic engagement, progressiveness, and experimentalism are by no means the common denominator of the independent scene however. Formulaic author-driven theatre (e.g. 150 BPM,30 Kolektiv Počemučka (Gledališče Glej, Anton Podbevšek Teater, 2025). Samo še enkrat gremo spat,31 D. Jernej Potočan (Mini teater, JSKD Ljubljana, 2024). Balada o trobenti in oblaku32 D. Žiga Hren (Mini teater, 2024) – not a postdramatic show itself, but one that draws explicitly on the aesthetics of the latter. ) also constitutes a significant part of the scene, in my opinion, because of the absence of reflection, why such approaches are integral to the creative processes.
Although formally the scene is mostly dealing with hybrid approaches to installative, intermedial and performance art practices, lecture-performances, documentary approaches and above all author-driven, devised theatre approaches, in the last couple of years we’ve also seen a shift towards formats such as relaxed performance (e.g. Kit na odru33 D. Neža Kokalj (Emanat, 2024). ), autofiction (or if we use Ernaux’s more clear term auto-socio-biography instead), hybrid evenings with dance and poetry (e.g. Preveč sveta se skriva v meni34 By Anamaria Bagarić in collaboration with poet Nina Dragičević (2025). and Kr(e)č35 By Alja Lacković in collaboration with poet Urša Majcen (Plesni teater Ljubljana, 2025). ) etc.
1. Leja Jurišić: Dance in Stone (Ljubljana Puppet Theatre, Pekinpah, 2025)
Exchanging external societal topics with the exploration of authorial poetics, is the puppet show Dance in Stone, which can be best understood, if analysing it through the lens of its author’s Leja Jurišić’s opus. In the shows Concert (Jurišić, Pekinpah, 2022) and De Facto – Go with Yourself (Jurišić, Pekinpah, 2018) Jurišić playfully imitates, appropriates and subverts the general model of a musical recital or concert – e.g. playing the piano keys with her whole body – exploring autonomy of coperformers, and the notions of body as instrument and vice-versa. While the show Together (Pekinpah, Via Neagtiva, Kino Šiška, 2018) even more broadly questions the parameters of any given theatrical situation – together with collaborator Marko Mandić – with improvisation in a long-durational frame. As she once stated: ‘The decision to create a trilogy of duos with male artists stemmed from the fact that previously she had mostly performed solo or collaborated with women. Her male collaborators however are so radically different from one another that these collaborations carried her into fields she would never have entered on her own.’ Proving a radical openness to influences and experimentation that characterise her work.
During the Covid-19 epidemic, Jurišić performed a piece, that in the context of lockdown resonated very clearly: It’s Impossible to Wait in Vain (Gledališče Glej, Pekinpah, Jurišić, 2020), while her coperformers of choice – stones – enabled her to work in times of social distancing. In Dance in Stone, titular stones are again present, as well as their role as something other than inanimate objects. The context is drastically different however – instead of a solo in an independent theatre, she choreographed and directed a piece for the ensemble cast of Ljubljana’s puppet theatre. The result: a very imaginative and creative encounter that the target audience (children age 12 and older) can have with the devised theatre approach.
2. Aljoša Lovrić Krapež: Is Joy II (Bunker, 2025; based on Is Joy – a masters performance at Divadelní fakulta Akademie múzických umění v Praze, 2023)
I can’t help but think of the titular joy – evident in the performance’s attempt at a total theatrical experience of joy (through music and audience participation) – as a generational marker. The piece’s author Aljoša Lovrić Krapež is the youngest of this year’s selection, but broadly, a representative of the youngest generation, currently working in theatre, professionally. It is also present in Filip Mramor’s (one of the performers in Is Joy II) work 410 km (Ljubljana Puppet Theatre, 2022) and their collaboration within the collective Počemučka, specifically their first performance Under Construction (Gledališče Glej, 2021).
As Varja Hrvatin (besides being a theatre-maker, also a fellow critic) once wrote: ‘the creators of the performance Under Construction set themselves the task of collectively immersing in an exploration and articulation of their generation’s “statement,” of their understanding of the potentiality of community. It is a young team of curious and courageous creators, determined to understand and live theatre in their own way’ – a common sentiment of a young generation, trying to differentiate itself from the generation of their mentors. Why this generation’s earlier work was marked by playfulness, their optimism in their more contemporary work got complicated, which contrasts the naïveté of being young. Their search for a different aesthetic however is marked by object and physical theatre approaches, as well as profound questions about the nature of signifying practices, as evident in Is Joy II.
Performance art
As evident in the above discussion of Olja Grubić’s and Neja Tomšič’s work, a general rule of thumb is that artists that started out as visual artists rather than theatre-makers, more often create works that border on installations, and are even often situated in gallery contexts. But another branch of contemporary theatre that also heavily draws from the gallery context, specifically performance art, is Via Negativa (VN) – platform for contemporary performance art. Open to artists working on the fringes of various performance practices, the Via Negativa platform was conceived by Bojan Jablanovec in 2002 out of the need to explore the meaning, significance and reasons for the existence of theatre at the turn of the millennium. VN productions are mostly conceived in the Via Negativa laboratory for contemporary performance arts, where the focus on the development of different performance strategies has a general emphasis on the liveliness of performance formats. Through the years lots of artists (mostly theatre makers, but not exclusively) have crossed paths with VN, while the prominent force VN presented, also had a significant discursive result. From this year’s TRIGGER selection, Varja Hrvatin, Barbara Kukovec (and Katarina Stegnar), Olja Grubić (and Anita Wach), Leja Jurišić, as well as Tomaž Grom, Nataša Živković and Eduardo Raon (whose show Now I can get the fuck out of here, now I can go (Zavod Sploh, 2024) I didn’t get the chance to write about) and Luka Piletič at some point collaborated with VN, which serves as a reminder of just how prominent a force and specific of an aesthetic VN presents for Slovenia.
1. Luka Piletič: Under Control (Moment, Via Negativa, 2023)
Luka Piletič comes from highly diverse range of performance strategies: street theatre (e.g. Sanje uličarjev – Pesem za park (KUD Globus Hystericus, 2022)), improvisational theatre (e.g. Kar nosim s sabo (Federacija, 2021)) and clowning (e.g. Za Crknt: Brez ročne (Društvo za sodobno klovnsko umetnost, 2020), the latter of which is also behind the show’s slogan: A clown that forgot to be funny. Under Control is his first foyer into performance art, created in VN Lab, and as such in line with the methodological guidelines and the recognisable performative orientation of Via Negativa. Nudity, audience provocation, and exploration of lively subjects onstage in relation to spectators, are just some of Via Negativa’s trademarks. Piletič however – owing to his diverse performative background – brings a sort of nonpretentious, at times even funny quality to his presence.
An attempt at synthesis
Contrasting the cliches of family dramas that proverbially constitute most of institutional theatre production, the independent scene broadens the scope of theatrically relevant themes and approaches – bringing the contemporariness to the contemporaneity I wanted to discuss in this article. Since the separation of the biennale for contemporary dance Gibanica from the festival of contemporary performing arts Exodos and the eventual dissolution of the latter, the Slovenian independent non-dramatic performing arts scene has lacked an internal logic or a coherent line of development – unlike the institutionalised dramatic scene, here artists don’t read the same journals, see the same shows or visit the same spaces. Because of this, they are interested in different topics and aesthetics. The scene, that doesn’t really function as a proper scene, functions instead primarily as a space of encounters and experimentation. The openness to hybridity and experiment inscribed in the very fabric of this scene is reflected, at the level of genre classification, and also a considerable degree of arbitrariness.
TRIGGER, conceived as a complement to Gibanica, is intended to foreground primarily postdramatic production within the independent scene, as contemporary dance is already “assigned” to the domain of Gibanica. Artists such as Leja Jurišić, Matej Kejžar, Matija Ferlin, Irena Z. Tomažin, and Nataša Živković have, at times even with the same works, appeared at both TRIGGER and Gibanica. This does not discredit the aim of one or the other, just shows that nothing is set in stone.
Another segment that is more consistently excluded from TRIGGER’s scope – because of the nature of its inner workings – is the off-off scene. I strongly leaned on the latter here in order to outline several broader thematic concerns and working methods that have significantly shaped the Slovenian independent theatre landscape over the past two years and that contribute substantially to its context, even if these influences might not be readily discernible from the selection of works presented at TRIGGER alone.