As society hardens and voices that do not conform to the prevailing norm are increasingly under pressure, Vincent Wijlhuizen announces his departure as director of What You See Festival. A festival that is precisely about those unheard voices and new perspectives. In a conversation, in which he almost forgets his coffee and I my hot chocolate, I ask him — in his last days as director — a lot of questions. As his farewell approaches, he talks about the need for artistic activism, the political responsibility of cultural institutions and the importance of power sharing. What starts as a retrospective, grows into a conversation full of urgency and reflection. Why is a valued director distancing himself from a flourishing festival? And what does that mean in a time when the voices of marginalized groups are increasingly under pressure?
Together with Ieme Soes (head of production) and Annette van Zwoll (programmer & festival dramaturge) you started realizing the first What You See Festival in 2017. What drove you at the time?
I was working on the international project Performing Gender, which brought me into contact with Gender Bender Festival in 'conservative-catholic' Bologna, Italy. This fantastic festival is about gender, the body and expression. I was surprised that, in 'progressive' Netherlands, there was no arts festival with a similar theme. That's when I started talking to Ieme and Annette about what is now What You See Festival. This is modeled on the Gender Bender festival in Italy, which has since also become a partner of our festival.
Why is it still necessary to focus on the themes of gender and identity?
Because in the world we live in, the (cis)heteroman is still central — while the majority of the world's population is not. How is that possible?
This touches on personal stories and systemic inequality. It is in our laws, our structures, our regulations — from the Wage Gap to who does or does not get access to care and support. Much policy is still written for the heterosexual couple with children as the norm.
Since 2017, this inequality has not decreased, but has actually increased — through right-wing movements, not only in America or Eastern Europe, but also here in the Netherlands. We hear more and more voices that are anti-abortion, anti-queer, anti-trans or anti-woman.
What You See Festival is unfortunately more relevant than ever in that regard. It remains necessary to make room for other voices, other stories and other perspectives on what it means to be human. Art is not a luxury in that, it is a necessity.
What does the name What You See stand for?
The name refers to the expression 'What you see is what you get'. We say What you see, is often what you don't get. Things are not always what they seem.
At the same time, the three words individually also have a meaning:
What refers to what you see, who you look at.
you is about Who there is someone watching — you yourself. You always watch from your own perspective, never neutrally.
See stands for the active choice to really look. Not fleetingly, but with attention and openness, so that you can really get to know the other.
During What You See we invite the audience to watch again and again — actively, consciously, sometimes uncomfortably. Because only then will new perspectives emerge.
What do you think is the biggest difference between the first festival you organised in 2018 and the 7th edition in November last year?
We have grown, literally to more days, with more people and more audience.
And we have grown in terms of content. For the first edition, we programmed what we already had in mind. Now we are looking more specifically for work that fits the subject we want to put on the agenda and work that we think should be seen in the Netherlands.
What do you remember most from all the editions of the festival?
There are several moments that have stayed with me. I found the very first festival very special: building something from nothing, and then 'suddenly' there is a festival of several days with artists and audience. The support and trust of Theater Kikker were crucial to be able to realize the very first edition.
Another moment that made a deep impression was the community project with K's Choice. It touched many people — participants, audience and myself. The impact of such an art project on people's lives, I found really impressive. It showed that art can bring people together, connect, open conversations and set something lasting in motion.
That's why we organize a new community project every two years. This year it will be Crowded Bodies XL, an artistic dance project that once again offers space for encounters and connections.
What did you find most challenging in your role as Artistic & General Director at WYS?
The most challenging thing for me was the constant balancing act between our ambition and reality — financial, practical and social. Every year we start with the question: what do we want to say, what do we want society to look like and what role does What You See Festival play in that?
But soon you have to go back to the drawing board: what is the budget, how many hours does the team have, how many days does the festival last, and what can we realistically achieve within that? Making the sharpest possible choices within that framework — that is the core of the challenge for me.
The sharpness lies in the realization that saying 'yes' to something also means saying 'no' to five other things. That is why we have to know exactly what we are saying 'yes' to. Annette and I are also gatekeepers in that sense. It is a responsible role: we have to be able to justify to ourselves, to our team and to the audience why we have chosen these makers, these themes or these stories this year.
And those choices can be different every year. Because our responsibility is not only to show quality, but also to indicate why these works need to be heard at this moment in time. That should never happen casually.
Where have you grown the most in your role as director?
In the first year we did everything ourselves, because we were so small and all sorts of things had to be done. Also things we had not foreseen. Everyone was involved in production, marketing, audience development and maintaining relations with the theatre world. We are still a small team and we still have to do a lot, but we have been able to separate the tasks better and the processes have become clearer.
What space did this give you?
Although there is finally more room for the director's position this year, I consciously choose to leave now. In recent years I worked one and a half days a week for What You See Festival — limited time in which a lot had to be done.
I see the fact that more time and resources are now available as the ideal moment to pass the baton.
There are two important reasons why I am leaving now. The first is substantive: I think that too many people in influential positions in the cultural sector stay there for too long — directors, programmers, policy makers. While the strength of the sector lies in movement, in new voices and fresh perspectives. I know where my strengths lie, and also that I, like everyone else, have blind spots. By making room, something new will emerge, and I want What You See Festival to have that.
The second reason is strategic. Of course I could have stayed for another two or three years — even sat out the entire arts plan. But then my successor would be saddled with an impossible start: immediately writing a new arts plan, arranging financing and therefore having too little time to develop my own course.
If I want WYS to grow sustainably — and I do — I need to make room at a time when there is still time to build. So that a new director has the opportunity to really develop their own voice, and that time is now.
What is the essence of live art for you and what makes it so special to program that form?
What has always touched me — and also drives me — is building something out of nothing. That, to me, is the power of what theater or live art can do. There is nothing, then a group of people come together, and suddenly there is something: a show, a concert, a performance. And just as suddenly as it was there, it is gone again.
That transience, that magic of the moment, I find intriguing. That you share an experience with people that literally disappears again, but that can still leave something lasting. That is also the challenge: how do you ensure that what has been created there in space becomes something that people take with them — home, or in their lives?
For me, that is also what a festival is: a place where something happens, temporarily, intensely, but with a reach that goes far beyond the moment itself. And now it is time for others to take that further, in their own way. That space must be there — for new energy, new ideas, and new magic.
What did the festival bring you personally?
The festival has given me so much. I have had the opportunity to speak with so many beautiful and interesting people and makers, each with their own perspectives and insights. That has lasting value.
What do you think made you so valued by your team and by creators?
I don’t think everyone likes me — and they don’t have to. What I do always try to do is be as honest as possible about where I stand on something. Even when it comes to difficult things. I don’t want to avoid the difficult, but I do want to have the conversation in a respectful way, and always leave room for other voices.
Whether that always works? I don't know. It is sometimes difficult to see yourself clearly, especially from the perspective of the other. But I am very aware of that.
One thing I often do in practice is simply: talk later. When I’m speaking to a group about the festival or a project, I try to give my opinion last. Because I know that my position as director has influence — if I speak first, it can limit the space for others.
So I really learned to be quiet more often. Not necessarily to agree with others, but to listen well first. Really try to understand: what is the other person thinking? Where does that come from? Why does someone say this?
It doesn't always work, by the way. I'm only human, and sometimes I just think: come on. Although the intention with which I enter a conversation is always to make room for other perspectives and to take them seriously.
What other changes would you like to see?
In the early years, Annette, Ieme and I often talked about the question: what needs to happen to make What You See Festival redundant? I still find that an interesting question.
Last year I was in Indonesia, searching for my roots. In a museum in Bali I suddenly saw modern art by people who looked like me — without the label 'diversity' or 'inclusion' attached to it. It was just there. That touched me, because in the Netherlands — if you don't meet the 'norm' — you can often only go to the museum under headings such as 'colonial past', 'queer art' or 'women in art'.
I hope for a future where those labels are no longer needed. Where everyone is naturally visible — on stage, in museums, but also in leadership positions.
With WYS we try to contribute to that. For example by putting makers who are not yet on the big stage there. Offering space. Not as an exception but as the norm. Like last year at Queer Chronicles in the theater.
What do you see as the most important task for WYS at this time?
We live in a bizarre time, where society is shifting more and more to the right. Where extreme right-wing ideology and fascist tendencies are becoming more and more visible. And I have the feeling that not everyone realizes how fast that is happening.
In that context I see an essential role for WYS. For what art and culture can mean in society. Art is not a neutral playing field and can make visible what is in danger of disappearing. We must now see the human dimension in the other. The upcoming festival is therefore dedicated to Keepers of Humanity.
I am proud that WYS continues to amplify voices. Voices that are elsewhere snowed under, silenced or ridiculed. And I am grateful for the support of the municipality of Utrecht, the province of Utrecht and Fonds Podiumkunsten — they give WYS the space to continue that work.
What do you expect to miss?
I will definitely miss the fun and chatting with the team. And planning with Annette — she was really my partner in crime in coming up with the plans.
But I will also miss the festival itself. The run-up to it, the tension of whether the audience will come again, and then the moment when people really have a great evening — that remains special to see.
And I found the Utrecht School of the Arts project inspiring every year. Those young makers brought ideas and perspectives that I had not thought of myself. I found that very enriching. I will also miss those kinds of encounters and fresh energy.
Of course, what everyone wants to know is: what are your plans or dreams for the future?
I don't have a concrete plan for what I'm going to do after WYS at the moment — and I'm deliberately leaving some space for that.
I will continue working at Theater Utrecht and Kalpanarts, that will not change. But what will replace WYS, I do not know yet. And that actually feels good: not having to think of something new right away, but taking the time to feel what presents itself.
What wish do you have for the next director of the festival?
My wish for the new director is that it may be an inspiring time — and that he has the courage to put himself on the line. Because WYS is not only about makers and audience, but also about the organization, about the people behind the scenes.
I hope that the new director will continue to ask himself: how do I relate to the stories that we show? Which perspectives do I bring with me, which ones do I perhaps miss? And do I really test my beliefs — or do I take things for granted? The symposia that we have organized in recent years are also about what kind of organization we want to be. Such as What You See In-Depth — On the Safety of LGBTQIA+ Creators of Color in the cultural field.
In the first year I experienced how big a blind spot can be, despite the best intentions. That experience taught me to look again and again: who is telling the story? From which perspective? And does that represent who we want to be as a festival?
I wish my successor the same attitude — not as pressure, but as an invitation. Because the festival only becomes truly meaningful when we also use it to look at ourselves.
What question would you ask the next director? (At the time of this interview the new director was not yet known.)
One question I would like to ask the new director is one I often use in my work: When was the last time you fundamentally changed your mind?
And I mean really deep — about a subject you thought differently about. What triggered that change? What encounter, what insight, what experience?
At WYS we ask our audience to be open to other perspectives, and we ask that of ourselves. This question helps to make that process conscious in yourself. And I am curious how the new director feels about that.
I was so engrossed in the conversation that my hot chocolate is cold by now. Back at the office, we continue with the preparations for the festival in November. It will be the first edition where Vincent does not open the festival — as he always did with involvement and commitment.
His involvement changes form, but will remain palpable — as a spectator, sharp and reflective.
And then he looks, hopefully proudly, at the efforts and results of the renewed What You See team.
