After learning from a medical perspective that it is time to correct my severe congenital heart defect, I work on this topic in my performance. I also have little luck with the symbolic heart (love). This also needs to be corrected.
Years ago, the Canadian artist Paul Cuillard impressed me immensly with his performance "Listen to my (your) heart". During the performance, he let us hear our own heart and also his, which is partly artificial. He was able to consciously influence his heartbeat. After the performance, he gave me his stethoscope. Since then, it has reminded me that I have to take care of my own heart. Paul Cuillard, whom I met exactly once in 2011 in Sete, was in Tokyo 2024 at the same time as me and that is no coincidence for me.
 
My performance revolves around the topic of the heart! As in Japan the organ heart (shinzou) and the symbol heart (kokoro) are not the same word, I differentiate the two meanings on the one hand and bring them together on the other.
 
I brought along various materials collected from other artistic endeavours. Many people on site also donated small scraps of fabric, threads and other textile materials. I form a circle out of all the materials. Then I listen to my heart beating with Paul Cuillard's stethoscope and let the visitors do the same. I wrap various materials around a book that was very dear to me as a child, namely about expeditions to the North and South Pole, to form a heart shape.
I ask the visitors to decorate and transform the objects they have brought with them that are dear to them with the materials lying around. After three and a half hours I cut open the heart and take out the book. Instead I put the stethoscope in and mend the heart so that it is whole again.
 
During the performance I realize that the fascination with expeditions into the icy desert is a mirror of the feelings of my childhood. I took refuge in these descriptions, in which the participants only survived under great danger - if at all. My surroundings also seemed icy to me and yet, compared to the expeditioners, I had a roof over my head and a warm bed. Since I no longer want this emotional gradient (from existential fear of survival to neglect), I exchange the symbol of cold for a symbol of care. Paul gave me his stethoscope 11 years ago with the words: Take care of your heart. Take care of yourself. For me, the stethoscope is a symbol of being there for one another and of caring. In this way, the transformation and bringing together of the organic and emotional hearts was successful in the performance.