Where did the inspiration for Offline Tourists come from?

"It began with a deep concern about the current times we live in. The digital transformation we are undergoing makes us increasingly dependent on screens for communication and expression. With this dependence, relationships in the analog world are weakening, while extremism gains digital power and flourishes behind the safety of anonymity.

Radicalization is no longer limited to isolated individuals; it has become a mass phenomenon that transcends borders. Meanwhile, the value of rational debate and expert knowledge has declined, drowned out by streams of disinformation. We have shifted from a time when philosophers and artists shaped ideas to an era in which influencers sell triviality. Today, influence is no longer measured by ideas, but by followers. A true “upgrade for civilization,” indeed."

What was the most meaningful moment for you during the rehearsals? And how did it feel to share this process with the team of Offline Tourists?

"During the first rehearsals, which were largely based on improvisation, we immediately encountered fundamental questions whose answers we thought were self-evident: what do we actually mean when we say ‘human’? And what then is ‘non-human’? Is humanity universal, or shaped by personal and cultural assumptions?

Because when you plant a tree, is that a human act or a botanical one? And does the same ambiguity apply to feelings such as shame, guilt, and morality? That confusion turned out to be fruitful: it became the breeding ground on which Offline Tourists could grow.

Working on this performance has been a deeply transformative experience for me. The process challenges me to revise my methods, discover new approaches, and open up unexpected horizons. My way of working often starts from a broad idea, which I then enrich together with others. I strongly believe in the power of collective creativity, and in this project that dialogue became particularly dynamic: each contribution gave the whole a new shape, resulting in a lively, layered, and deeply human work.

As an expat, I am constantly preoccupied with the question of what ‘local’ means. This work helps me to deepen my roots in Belgium and the Netherlands, while carrying fragments of other histories and geographies with me. It is therefore not only a theatrical process, but also a personal journey that continually broadens my sense of community and artistic connection."

And what are actually your digital guilty pleasures?

"I often watch political debates, especially in the WANA region (West Asia North Africa). What happens there rarely feels like a genuine conversation: the speakers appear confident, but quickly fall into repetition, like a poorly written play. At first, I found this spectacle entertaining, but gradually it began to disturb me. Because despite their clumsiness, such performances plant lies in people's minds, reinforce violence and suffering, and magnify the injustice for those who are already oppressed. This raises a painful question: how can the worst form of “theatricality” have so much power, while theater in its most honest and human form struggles to make an impact? Perhaps that is why I am drawn to theater. 

And yet I continue to watch it. Bitter, questioning, but above all curious. Because somewhere I enjoy it because my understanding of the machinery behind political media continues to grow."

What do you hope the audience takes away from Offline Tourists?

"Although Offline Tourists depicts a distant future, it is firmly rooted in our present. In this world, humanity has disappeared after a series of disasters. However, quantum computers continue to develop until one form of AI decides to trace its origins back to 2025. It calls on people from the digital archive to understand its own existence.

The audience itself consists entirely of artificial intelligences in human form. Louis, the actor-machine, performs a play woven from real documents and fragments of history. At the end of the performance, I hope to make the audience aware that every daily action is a seed for the future. We can actively shape what is to come.

And doing nothing is also a form of action. Doing nothing remains a choice about the world we leave behind. Think about that!"

Thank you, Enkidu, for a glimpse into your creative process!