Sarah Ladwig, 22, stands at Marienplatz with her eyes closed and her mouth slightly open. She wears big headphones. Her short black hair falls to her forehead as she rocks her head back and forth. Her body follows the movement, her long white dress is blasting into the air, she has taken off her coat despite the cold. And the longer she dances, the more passers-by turn to her. Some laugh, others do not change their faces. Some stop, watch them, even photograph them. However, the hustle and bustle did not let itself be disturbed for long. It is difficult to explain whether the dancer notices any of this. She seems to have disappeared into her own world. Then she opens her eyes, takes off her headphones, and puts on her coat. It’s just another normal Tuesday afternoon.

A few days ago, Sendlinger Tor. Sarah is already dancing on her way to the interview. She wears purple eyeliner, headphones pinned to one side. Sarah usually dances when she’s outside anyway. Several times she got a permit to dance in the center of Munich, but mostly she does it on the subway, on the bus or on the street. Often several times a day. “It’s my healthiest addiction,” she says, laughing as the cigarette goes out in her hand for the fourth time.

What happens if you start dancing now? Here at Stachus?

“Diosa” is the name of the 22-year-old who started dancing in public three years ago and then never stopped. While she was waiting for a friend at Stachus, she asked herself: What happens if you start dancing now? Suddenly curiosity became stronger than fear. So I started, “Perhaps with caution,” and realized: Nothing bad would happen.

During this stage of her life, her hometown was part of the Munich International Art Laboratory (IMAL for short) Musical Theatre, a two-year “recovery project for missing children,” as Sarah calls it. I’ve felt lost before. Although she has always been creative and loved to dance, Sarah began studying philosophy after graduating from high school. She did not see any future prospects in a creative career and did not have any creative role models around her. To follow her passion, she needed a little caution: When Sarah was pushed into pole dancing class by a friend’s mother, she said of her son, “I couldn’t imagine him studying philosophy. He’d have to try it first.” The next day Sarah did an audition at IMAL.

Self-confidence, courage and intuition, Sarah Ludwig often deals with these topics

Sarah now wants to pass this alert on. “No one can do it alone,” she says of the courage to express yourself creatively. Through her performances, she wants to encourage others to do the same. “In my eyes, everyone is an artist, we all make something. I also want to inspire lawyers or other people who are not considered artists to give it a try.”

“Goddess” means Diosa in Spanish, her mother’s Colombian family name. Sarah would also like to officially accept the name, at the moment wearing it as a stage name is a “great honour”. It would also be about the goddess in every person. For her, this is a metaphor for private intuition.

Self-confidence, courage, and intuition, she seems to deal with these topics a lot. Perhaps this is inevitable when you are as vulnerable in public as Sarah. Others often admire that she dares to dance anywhere. She doesn’t care what other people think of her. She describes it as a gradual process: “It wasn’t always like that, for me it was a long overdue.” Meanwhile, dancing on the street or in the subway has become her comfort zone. “At that moment it might seem like I’m indestructible.” It’s just a matter of habit. “I’m showing a side of myself that I’m very comfortable with,” she explains.

But even today, it still sometimes takes a lot of effort to get started. Then start with small movements. When she realizes she’s not paying attention, she tells herself she’s in her practice room, “Because I don’t have one. Because I have a right to express myself.” Although there are sometimes skeptical reactions or even people telling them to stop, the positive feedback outweighs the negative.

Children’s reactions are especially important to her. “They’re just being upfront and honest,” Sarah says. They laugh or imitate her movements, unlike many adults who often do not dare to look at her in public. “I always know I’m doing the right thing.” But kids also ask very honest questions. A nine-year-old girl, who loves to dance in revealing clothes in the summer, asked innocently if she was a stripper. Then the very direct Sarah stumbled briefly afterwards. “After that, I tried to make it clear that I was who I am,” she says.

“We forget how fun it can be to listen to the impulses our bodies give us.”

Recently, she also uploaded pictures of her dancing on BestFans, Those on Instagram It will be deleted due to too much exposed skin. Why did she do this? “It’s only natural for me to show myself without clothes on. I find the way we face nudity distorted.” She wants to stimulate a countermovement with pictures. And she asks for money for it. Does your audience get it right? “Of course, this can also do something to you. It is also well established in us that it is sexy when someone is naked.” But sexual activity, like dancing, should be free from the pressure of having to work or wanting to do something right for others. “We forget how fun it can be to listen to the impulses our bodies give us.”

Next year Sarah would like to study movement education, dance and social work. In order to stay afloat financially even after two years at IMAL, I have been working in retail, gastronomy and now sponsorship for the past few years. Since her art is so visible in public spaces, she has been increasingly approached by cultural workers and she is part of projects and mass productions.

I took the direction of the choreography to perform at the crossroads

For example, you participate in the collective “Die Städtische”. In a cultural group show at Crossroads, Sarah took charge of choreography for the first time, establishing an important foundation for herself as a performer. The group is now like a family. “We are looking all over Munich for places we can bring to life.”

Because culture has an important task now: to create closeness. You can tell Sarah how sad she is that cultural performances have suffered so much from the pandemic. She says people need them now, especially now. In 2022, she wants to do her part with a self-confidence exercise that is supposed to culminate in a theatrical dance piece. For this she received funding from the scholarship program “Young Art and New Paths” of the Bavarian State Ministry of Arts and Sciences.

After Sarah dances at Marienplatz, a young woman approaches her. “I found how you danced so beautiful,” she says shyly. “If I had had more time, I would have wanted to participate.” They exchange Instagram names. Sarah says these reactions are the best for her. When you make people want to dance too.

youths