Sandra Mujinga’s “Disruptive Pattern” questions the prevailing surveillance politics of a time when hyper-visibility is ubiquitous. One dancer, multiplied and looped on three screens without sound, stages a loose freestyle choreografie in dialogue with metallic, intangible forms. The multiplied dancers dance as much for themselves in their own world as for an audience. They are neither confrontational nor do they let us off the hook. The impression is that Mujina’s silver dancers are not overexerting themselves; they are comfortable, downright relaxed. They are not representatives of the hyper-frenetic dance craze of recent years. The multiplied dancers move as if naturally in their element, flowing, unperturbed and unimpressed. Are they aware that they are being looked at? Their freedom lies in their anonymity: they are amorphous, but without being overlooked. They express inclusivity without singularity. Mujinga’s mercurial figures, covered in virtual heavy metal, have drip. They have total control and cancel out opposites by forcing the viewer to watch, while allowing them to feel their own impassivity in case they are not being watched. “Disruptive Pattern” is a powerful counterstatement to the pro-representation movements of recent years – those obligatory diversity schemes that create caricatures rather than celebrate the diversity of “Blackness.”

Sandra Mujinga’s “Disruptive Pattern” questions the prevailing surveillance politics of a time when hyper-visibility is ubiquitous. One dancer, multiplied and looped on three screens without sound, stages a loose freestyle choreografie in dialogue with metallic, intangible forms. The multiplied dancers dance as much for themselves in their own world as for an audience. They are neither confrontational nor do they let us off the hook. The impression is that Mujina’s silver dancers are not overexerting themselves; they are comfortable, downright relaxed. They are not representatives of the hyper-frenetic dance craze of recent years. The multiplied dancers move as if naturally in their element, flowing, unperturbed and unimpressed. Are they aware that they are being looked at? Their freedom lies in their anonymity: they are amorphous, but without being overlooked. They express inclusivity without singularity. Mujinga’s mercurial figures, covered in virtual heavy metal, have drip. They have total control and cancel out opposites by forcing the viewer to watch, while allowing them to feel their own impassivity in case they are not being watched. “Disruptive Pattern” is a powerful counterstatement to the pro-representation movements of recent years – those obligatory diversity schemes that create caricatures rather than celebrate the diversity of “Blackness.”

— Jessica Lauren Elizabeth Taylor

Excerpted from the catalog essay in: Anna-Catharina Gebbers (ed.): Magical Soup. Medienkunstwerke aus der Sammlung der Nationalgalerie, der Friedrich Christian Flick Collection im Hamburger Bahnhof und Leihgaben, Berlin 2020, p. 52.