Daan moved into Le Petit Théâtre
Commandeered for culture
Door Finn Oltmann
By Finn Oltmann
Finn Oltmann
He counts himself lucky, he says. He was one of the people who got to experience the famous Jazz Nights at Le Petit Théâtre. ‘I think what moved me most was just the music and the talent of the artists’, says Daan.
That feeling was only enhanced by the charm of the interior: the handmade tables, the blue curtains, the walls adorned with instrument parts. ‘So much care went into the decor to create that cosy, homely atmosphere.’ He felt inspired by what former owner Sharon did in the place.
So when he found out from the news that the jazz bar was closing, it impacted him. Sharon had been renting the historical building – constructed in 1892 as a gateway building for the gasworks that was once situated in the Ebbingekwartier – but the pandemic, months of poor accessibility due to road maintenance in the neighbourhood, and a burglary, meant she could no longer afford the rent.
She had to give it back to the municipality, which decided to give the care of the building to anti-squatting organisation CareX. They in turn rented it out to a small advertising company that was going to occupy the building until the municipality had decided on a final destiny for the small theatre. ‘But no one was really listening to Sharon.’ All she wanted was a chance to continue the cultural activities in the theatre.
Anarchist
So Daan decided to take action and squatted the building. ‘I think it should stay a cultural place’, Daan says. ‘Eventually, I wanted to host cultural events of my own there that would be open to everyone.’
It was exciting and a bit scary
Daan has a past with activism, a process he says started when he was a teenager and got involved with animal rights protests. He sympathises with squatters, too; he was arrested in 2019 he was at a building in the Akerkstraat to support the people who had squatted it.
Still, he doesn’t want to call himself an activist. He does consider himself an anarchist though, and that’s a philosophy he tries to live by. ‘For me, anarchism is a negative project in the sense that it negates authority, it negates being defined by others’, he explains. He lives with no illusion of an imminent revolution to work towards, but his perspective helps him to live ‘in the here and now’.
Inviolable
He entered the space on Tuesday, the same day the new owners planned on first moving into the house. ‘I caught just the right window.’ However, he now suspects that his moving in might have caused them to act quicker than planned.
After that, he had to stay for twenty-four hours straight. That’s when a property becomes ‘inviolable’, he explains: other parties are no longer allowed to enter the space or force you to move out anymore without a judge being involved.
People got to know like-minded people, that’s also incredibly worthwhile
He found the living space in good shape and set up in a room that was used for music lessons when the club was still operational. He brought his camping mattress and slept on the wooden floor. ‘And then I called the municipality’, he says. ‘I told them: Hey, I’m the new resident of Kolendrift 19. I already called the cops. Feel free to do so as well. But yeah, I live here.’
The arrival of CareX employees on the second day was kind of exciting, Daan says. ‘Maybe also a bit scary.’ However, he knew the municipality has rules they have to play by. ‘If they want you out, they will have to press charges and follow the whole procedure.’
Court case
A judge had to rule on possible eviction within a 72-hour window, which meant the court case was to take place that Wednesday. Friends and supporters turned up at the court in solidarity, applauding when Daan appeared.
Daan believed that he had a strong case. ‘I had a good feeling about it. The best-case scenario would be that I could stay for the foreseeable future and then the owner would have to sue me again in a civil court case.’
I really hope it will make people think about housing and private property
Such a decision might be made by a judge if the owners of a space are unable to prove a pressing need for eviction or concrete plans for the building.
However, the judge ruled against him and Daan was ordered to vacate the building by Friday, or be forcefully removed by the police. ‘It’s disappointing that I wasn’t able to stay.’
Good things
So last Friday, Daan left his temporary squat. Again, many people had gathered in support and to protest the announced eviction. They held up banners and hung up posters in the rain. Others held speeches or brought home-cooked chilli. Daan denies being the centre of the protest, though. ’There were quite a few new people that I had never seen before.’
And while the eviction never took place – the police didn’t show up until Monday, finding the place abandoned – the protest brought many good things, he feels. At the protest itself, people got together, discovering the squatting scene and getting to know like-minded people. ‘That’s also incredibly worthwhile.’
Even more important perhaps, he feels, is the fact that his action attracted a lot of media attention. He thinks that anyone acting against the status quo has the potential to uncover its underlying assumptions. ‘I really hope it will make people think about broader topics like housing and private property’, he says. ‘There are people who own these buildings, and they don’t even live there themselves. They just rent them out for profit.’
What bugs him, though, is the fact that yet another cultural spot is lost to Groningen. Daan hopes that his story and the ‘overwhelmingly positive support’ demonstrates how much people and the city as a whole care about retaining cultural spaces. ‘There’s so many people that come there, and so many opportunities arise from that.’
But, he stresses: ‘Many things are also worth doing for their own sake. I’m living according to my values, which is very affirming. I’m an anarchist, which means you are a living protest.’