Julia Sterre Schmitz’s documentary film Come Here, Come Here invites (self)discovery of a 12cm organ left out of anatomy books and science discourse, as well as the general knowledge, until 1998. Stephanie Pan develops a feminist manifesto containing vocal gestures, discovering How To Not Know she suggests ways of being and creating while trusting the body, leaning on intuition and celebrating emotionality, vulnerability, and empathy. Kexin Hao with Forceful Catering transforms the rice-pounding utensils into experimental percussion instruments that produce bass beats to electronic music; while blending the public and domestic space she reclaims the act of penetration.

A Women’s Day program that honours and encourages intuition, action, and (self)discovery.

Which sensations do we allow ourselves to have and how to express them, which knowledge do we lean on? It is a challenge to navigate what inputs to trust among scientific books, classical paintings, pop songs or Instagram ads. On Point of Climax searches for tactics and tools art can offer to explore female bodies and extend the ways of how the body can be activated.

Julia Schmitz is a filmmaker who is fascinated by the power of the image and how people construct stories.

In her essayistic approach, she often uses a mix of media such as archive footage, photography and self-shot material. By making associative connections between image and sound, she questions dominant representations and investigates ways of seeing.

In Come Here Come Here (2019), which lends its title from the fingering technique to achieve a g-spot orgasm, Schmitz takes you on a journey of discovery through the many theories and imagery concerning female sexual pleasure. But how to navigate through this flood of information that all present different truths? 

As a poetic manifesto for a more plural understanding of female sexuality, this associative film interweaves experts’ and sexologists’ knowledges with the director’s own fantasies, memories and confusions: by whom is sexual knowledge produced? How to represent the unrepresentable? How to bring the inside out?

Stephanie Pan is a voice artist, composer, interdisciplinary maker, performer and curator. At the root of her work is the notion of pure communication; finding a form of contact with the audience which is stripped of social expectations and distractions.

A mutating combination of theater/performance art/experimental music/improvisation/controlled chaos/pop music/classical music, her work is visceral, passionate and intense, and often explores the limits of the body and voice.

How To Not Know relies on the empathy of the audience, containing vocal gestures transmitted to materialise inside the listening bodies.

Following a discipline of being truthful to oneself, Stephanie Pan composes a feminist manifesto. Exploring the space of not-knowing and vulnerability she consciously contradicts the prerogative of productivity and pure rationality. Celebrating intuition and emotionality,  How To Not Know is a snippet of Stephanie Pan’s recent practice.

Kexin Hao’s practice is a marriage of design and performance. She likes to challenge the boundaries between art and non-art spaces.

Thinking beyond the disciplines of design, performance, game, clubbing, and fitness, which results in a rich hybridity in her art-making. Using daring visual language, her work is a constant swing between intimate close-ups of personal stories and zoom-outs to collective narratives; between a past of political heaviness and a flashy modernity rendered in humour and sarcasm.

Forceful Catering is a performance inspired by the East/Southeast Asian tradition of preparing sticky rice cakes (mochi). The rice pounding utensils become experimental percussion instruments to produce bass beats to the electronic music; the pounding movements develop along the increasing viscosity of the rice. Inspired by the traditional Chinese folklores and rice pounding work songs, this project tries to expand the rice pounding song to contain new narratives reflecting our current urgencies: can a woman’s body become, contrary to a recipient, a giver of forces and penetration?