WHAT

Scroll. Pause. A gay couple buys car insurance. Scroll again. Pause.

Two women hold hands over a new sofa. Another ad: a non-binary person smiles as they switch energy providers. Scroll again. Not only can this be read as a choreography task, but it also reads as ‘finally!’ Movements over the screen generate optimism with an evident sense of change. Inclusion. 

Now let’s take a break. Breathe in and out, then dare to challenge the inclusivity assumption: Is scrolling really the site of inclusion? Could it be that giving the agency to the excommunicated in their own rights is yet another well-choreographed marketing strategy? 

It seems that years of precarious struggle by people of colour and queer communities claiming their agencies beyond the margins had not broken the wheel. It seems that marginalised groups are 

fed back into it. And if the spreadsheets turn green, even the most radical imagery turns out to be just another spin in a well-choreographed sales machine. 

Historically dominant power forces campaigned against the excommunicated, using the words of God, nature, and tradition. Now? Now God whispers: yes. The rainbow flag flies above the insurance company. The radical eatery is a brand. The excluded are invited and welcomed into this world. Not to change the rhythm of choreography, but to groove, that is, shop in it. 

What about the dances in such an environment? Should choreographies be written in stone? Which dances would, then, allow us to move beyond such an engraved world? Could we set up a different rhythm, not by stating that ‘we don’t know what we don’t know’ but with a question: what do we know? 

We know that those marching radicals are not safe just because they are marketed. We also know that time is money, and that the wheels keep on spinning! Business as usual! We also know how visibility without power works. It seems that the site of not-knowing is the site of weakness; it is the side no one dares to show.

Some scholars call the state of a person not knowing what they don’t know the Dunning-Kruger effect. Though this effect can be, and is, somewhat contested, it does point to the state one enters when engaging with social media. The reports on the Dunning-Kruger effect show that those who know the least are the most certain they know a lot. This is the essence of choreography: if there is a response to a specific post, then it’s worth following the steps. Scroll. Swipe. Comment. It seems that everybody can, and does, have a say about everything. War, grief, particle physics, the soul, you name it. The algorithm now sells as democracy. The medium is not the message. The medium is the spine. And the mantra is always the same: time is money. 

Let’s make the turn we are not supposed to make. ‘We don’t know what we don’t know’ is a realisation that not everything is for everybody. Say this in a Neo-liberal world and observe what happens. The white male patriarchic choreographers, the ones who are still setting the rhythm, will shout that such statements are not democratic and that this is the purest form of elitism dressed as radicalism. Should that be the way, then democracy is reduced to a single commandment: everyone must have a say in everything. But such a commandment is not about liberation. It is one of the oldest manipulation tricks – to convince the masses that not-knowing is a wound, not a wisdom. Then, the selling of the cure can begin: everyone can have an opinion, and everyone is part of that same choreography. 

Knowledge is written in symbols, but ‘we don't know what we don't know’ is not asking for a written solution; it sometimes stays in the very agreements those words make possible, which is exactly why the phrase is so often used to deceive: when someone says “we don't know what we don't know, so let's just see what happens”, they are not opening a door to the unknown but are quietly circling back into the same place where dance deviated from the choreography. 

But there is also knowledge written in the skin, and the skin is the organ that even the most sophisticated AI labs struggle to understand, arguing that we know very little about what happens when changes in temperature and ecosystems trigger the skin. Or is it that, for investors, the skin isn't worth their time? The skin-spine-body complex is a riddle of electrons. How and where do they move from one state to another? We don’t seem to know how to read them. We have symbols to articulate both states,  but the space between, the abyss of the unknown, well, some call it intuition. And even intuition does not flourish on a daily basis. That gut feeling needs to be propped up and given a grid. Is gut feeling then still intuition? It seems that feelings are not to be trusted when it comes to making a living. And Dance makers – this we know for certain – do need to live. They depend on the environment in which they work. ‘We don’t know what we don’t know’ is not the beginning of the solution. It is the beginning of the Dance.

Welcome to Spider 2026. This year, we meet a week after the solstice. Not by our own choice, but because we don’t owe the beautiful theatre in the park. Even though the sun reaching its maximum can be an interesting symbol when it comes to visibility for some artists and/or Spider itself, pragmatism can, and did, run over the artistic domain. But we are a Dance festival, and Dancing is what we do. This year’s lineup of artists focuses on those who explore the concept of ‘we don’t know what we don’t know’. We shall dance with birds and groove to Wittgenstein’s thesis on language. We shall gather to see the lineup of dances, from Baby Spider to Radical Talks. What brings us together is not only the vibration coming from the stage, but also dancing together with our dear audience. In that respect, we’ve put together a vibrant DJ lineup to get us into the groove of what we don’t know we don’t know. It is not about one show alone, but about fractal cut-ups and openings in what seems unjoinable. We look forward to spending time dancing with you.