This is the story of where we are now.

When we started working on Projekt Europa almost four years ago, it sometimes felt like the idea was an enormous mountain we had set out to climb, where the opening night of Europeana on 16 April 2020 was our equivalent of reaching base camp.

Of course back then, right at the start, we didn’t even know Europeana was going to be part of the season. The entire season was just an idea – as intangible and unpredictable as ideas often are. Reaching the summit was a gamble, and risk is the only thing you could count on.

As we went on, the intangible became more real. More and more brilliant, inspirational artists joined us in creating Projekt Europa – actors, writers, directors, designers, musicians - investing in this expansive, hopeful idea, lending their imagination and creativity to the notion of something that didn’t yet exist but which would, at some point, become our reality.

Our work grew out of this commitment. It was thrilling, and the work that was emerging was everything we’d hoped it would be – inventive, passionate, playful and profound. The days grew longer and fuller as that very first opening night approached.

Scattered across Europe

As it turns out, unpredictability is a reliable old dog. Instead of reaching the Europeana base camp together and launching the season into the world, we found ourselves scattered across Europe, isolated and quarantined, trying to make sense of how quickly, unexpectedly and completely the world can change. Because although we try to control it with our calendars and appointments, plans and projects, life is not predictable. It is chaotic, contradictory and complex. Narrative only exists in hindsight. 

But inside the unexpected, the potential for change is hiding.

The ideas we invested in have grown and morphed into something much bigger than we could ever have predicted. The stories in Projekt Europa are our stories, for this moment. Although the closure of the Swan means the season is now temporarily homeless, we are determined to find a way for the work to meet its audience somehow, somewhere.

When what we thought we could rely on falls apart, we’re left with what matters. In the unpredictable lurks opportunity. To redefine what we need, and how to build it. We can choose which stories we tell about who we are, and who we want to be. Stories that help us find new ideas, help us understand the world more fully, help us imagine the unimaginable to better deal with the real. Stories that are full of songs and sadness and brutality and compassion, and that become hands to hold in the dark when we need it most.

We are still here. We are still hoping. We will be back.

Maria Aberg, Judith Gerstenberg and the Projekt Europa company