VV fundation

Curated by Daria kravchuk

“Uta Bekaia’s performance “Jāņi” premiered at PAiR Pāvilosta on June 21, 2025 – the summer solstice – as a dynamic celebration of transformation and cultural memory. Brought to life by dancers Emīlija Berga, Kristīne Brīniņa, Lauris Limbergs, Marija Saveiko, Mārtiņš Aržanovskis, Roberta Gailīte, and Daniela Vētra, and with music by Marta Kauliņa-Pelnēna , the ritual performance invited the audience into a powerful, living expression of Latvian solstice traditions. At the edge of the Baltic Sea, where wind braids through dune grass and white swans drift along the coast, Uta Bekaia reawakens a midsummer ritual — Jāņi — a performance that emerges from the ancient pulse of the land and the artist’s own lineage of memory and myth. Bekaia has shaped seven archetypes, each one stepping from the liminal spaces somewhere in between mythologies and lived experiences : Desire, War, Fear, Hope, Time, Death, and Childhood. They appear in ceremonial garb — part folklore, part future relic — their bodies inscribed with choreography drawn from the deeply personal texts whispered, spoken, or sung into the wind. And guiding them all, a white swan — native to Pāvilosta’s waters — becomes a mythic narrator, not as a symbol but as a being with voice and agency. Jāņi invites us not only to witness, but to remember — the shimmer of dust dancing in a beam of light, the heartbeat of first love, the quiet grace of self-forgiveness, the courage to be seen rather than to disappear, and the stubborn, fragile beauty that endures even in the wake of ruin.

vido

by Tom Sharjo

I am desire. I am full of life.
“I remember my first love —
how every cell in my body pulsed with aliveness,
how there was no fear, only longing.

I am childhood.
“I am the imprints that shaped us into who we are.
I remember looking at the particles of dust floating in the air when I
was a child —
they shimmered like diamonds in the golden sunlight.”

I am destruction — the darkest side.
“I remember when the civil war began.
I remember realizing we were alone,
standing in front of a faceless beast that wanted to devour life and beauty.
I remember the sound of bombs exploding and bullets tearing the air.
I remember the fear — and how I got used to it.
How war became normal.
How I stopped caring.”

I carry hope.
“ I remember forgiving myself —
for leaving my mother behind,
for breaking the heart of someone I loved,
for not saying what needed to be said,
for not asking for what I truly deserved.”

I am fear — the greatest enemy, but also a part of me.
“I remember my father teaching me not to stand out,
to be neutral, invisible,
to blend into the crowd so no one would notice me.”

I am time.
I am the force that turns this planet.
“I remember, in the village, an old woman who lived alone passed away.
I remember how, each summer, I would watch her house slowly become part
of nature —
vines crawling over the walls, the wind breathing through the broken
windows.
Until one day, the house was gone — completely swallowed by the earth.”

I am death — your companion,
your greatest and most important teacher.
“I remember when I first met death —
when my grandmother passed.
That was when I first understood that everything ends.
I remember lying on the grass,
looking up at the sky stitched with stars,
and realizing that the cosmos has no end —
and my mind couldn’t hold it.”