“People like you need to fuck people like me” is a performative installation.
This installation takes the form of a dinner, organized by the main character – a woman in her mid-twenties who is on the verge of committing suicide. The dinner is her last attempt to find someone to live for.

The audience is invited to sit at a dinner table. During a starter, a main course, and a dessert, the audience gets the chance to become familiar with her inner world. These three courses are linked to messages on a voicemail, left by people from her life who care about her.

As an intermezzo between these three courses, a band performs. They play songs written and composed by the main character.

The dinner takes place in a cold basement. Bright lighting and grey, cold walls create an uncomfortable atmosphere. In the middle of the room, in stark contrast, stands a beautifully set long table, almost resembling a wedding. Fresh flowers, elegant tableware, menus, candles. Every detail has been carefully chosen; the protagonist has put a lot of effort into it. Each guest has a menu card in front of them. This menu provides the structure for the evening.

Besides these curated glimpses into her life, the audience is free to delve deeper if they wish. In a bread cabinet, they’ll find her iPhone; on the table lie a photo album and a diary. The visitors must pick up these objects themselves and thus decide for themselves how much they want to know.

The whole evening, the whole dinner, follows a movement inwards. Starting as a seemingly pleasant, sociable dinner, it ends with the realization that this was conceived by someone, created by someone, and that this person is trying to tell us something – and had no other way to express it. She cannot speak about it herself, she cannot even be present, but this is her ultimate attempt to be seen and to finally say:

None of it matters. You can never truly see another person.