Korzo UP #9 with Esmée Begemann

“Theater is an empathy machine”

From curating Keti Koti Kumpulan at Korzo to working with children fleeing war and violence, theater director and performer Esmée Begemann (1996) uses imagination as a tool for building a more equal world at the margins of the system. What drives her fight for inclusion, how far does her sense of responsibility reach, and what can one person actually do for the rest of the world?

Esmée was born in Leiden and raised in an Indonesian family where there was always room at the table for one more. After secondary school, she moved abroad to study directing at RITCS in Brussels, followed by the International Youth Initiative Program (YIP) in Sweden. The history of her grandparents from colonized Indonesia—some of whom survived Japanese internment camps—and her own experiences growing up as an Indo-Dutch child in the Netherlands are deeply woven into the work she creates.

What are you working on at the moment?

I just finished rehearsals for Amanda Payne’s new musical theater production about a fascinating female character in an apocalyptic world. I’m also going to Romania soon with Flying Seagulls to bring theater and performance to children living in extreme poverty. We really become their playmates and temporary friends.

“When a child stops dreaming and their imagination stops working, the future stops working too.”

Why do you feel called to help others?

“I have the time, I have the privilege, and I believe people have a responsibility in society. You have to ask yourself: what worlds do I have access to and how can I connect them? Through the art of theater, I can offer a little lightness and relief. I can give children the room to play and give them back the agency over their imagination. ‘When a child stops dreaming and their imagination stops working, the future stops working too.’”

After Romania, you’ll soon start preparing for the fourth edition of Keti Koti Kumpulan on June 30. What’s different this year?

“For this fourth edition of Keti Koti Kumpulan, we’re bringing together people from Indonesian and Indo-European diaspora communities to explore how their histories of slavery are connected to those of Suriname and the Dutch Antilles. There’s a lack of dialogue between these communities and we want to practice solidarity. This edition gives the audience more room to respond during the program itself, and we’re focusing more on communities that exist both in Suriname and Indonesia, like the Javanese Surinamese and Balinese Hindustani communities.”

“Within the context of a postcolonial society, there’s a hierarchy of humanity.”

What exactly is solidarity?

“Solidarity is the understanding that everyone’s freedom and dignity are connected, and that we are all responsible for each other. In a postcolonial society—if we can even call it that—there’s a hierarchy of humanity, where some people are seen as ‘more human’ than others.”

Where did your own sense of solidarity start?

“I grew up thinking we were just white and Dutch. But after school, I’d come home with questions like: why does everyone keep asking me where I’m from? When I started identifying more as a person of color, I started to feel more solidarity with other people of color.”

How do you train that sense of solidarity?

“It’s important to focus on a shared struggle; to recognize structures of exclusion without erasing differences. We don't all experience the same things, but we can have a conversation about it and see our histories intersect.”

How does theater play a role in this?

“Theater is all about storytelling. And what sets it apart from something like science, for example, is that it’s an empathy machine that helps us step into someone else’s shoes. It works through the heart instead of the head. It creates room to speak from a place of recognition, emotion, and softness. There's a quote by Ruth van der Steene that captures it beautifully: ‘That softness is where I want to live.’ I think of my grandparents, my foremothers, and women in refugee camps who had to raise families while also building a home for them. They never went into politics and never received a medal for their work, but they’re my biggest source of inspiration.”

As a woman, if you could inspire me to stay hopeful in difficult times, what would you tell me?

“The world is on fire. But whenever I feel frozen or overwhelmed, I ask myself: what can I do today for the people around me? Like calling my mom, for example. Because when you do something, anything, you’re at least moving. There’s also something I try to remind myself of, although I don’t always follow it perfectly: ask yourself what you really need—physically and emotionally—to feel safe and healthy. Whatever you don’t need, you can share.”

Why is community so important?

“There are so many ways to push back against systems of inequality, and I’m part of lot of communities. But the community I’m in direct contact with is my circle of influence. If you help strengthen that community, you can start taking care of each other.

I grew up in an Indo-European family where people were always welcome to stop by for dinner or to stay the night. Maybe that’s common in communities that don’t belong to the dominant group. If the system doesn’t work for you, you build your own support structures. And when someone stayed for dinner, the message was: you're part of this community now. And if the table isn’t big enough for everyone, then we all sit on the floor together.”

Keti Koti Kumpulan will be held on June 30 in Korzo. The program will be announced soon on this page, where you can also find more information about the event.