Cutaway #4: Anna Dede and Matthieu Goeury about parenting in the arts

Speakers

• Anna Dede is a visual artist, a young mother and the founder of the FAB (Female Artist Brussels) network, in which female artists support one another.
• Matthieu Goeury is the artistic director of Les Halles de Schaerbeek, with over twenty years’ experience in the field, and the father of a teenager.

Summary

This conversation focuses on two voices, each speaking from a different perspective on parenthood in the arts. We talk to them about how we can bring the arts and parenthood together. What emerges from both perspectives is that the distinction between parents as artists and parents as audience members is clear, but that the underlying question remains the same: how do you organise a field in which care is not pushed aside, but is actively incorporated into how work and participation are made possible?

The invisibility of children and the parent-artist

The tension between being an artist and being a parent is quickly brought into sharp focus. Whilst Matthieu addresses this primarily from a structural perspective on the field, Anna makes it particularly concrete by pointing to a fundamental mismatch in timing.

According to her, the moment when, as an artist, you need to build your practice (gaining visibility, networking, seizing opportunities) coincides with the stage of life when parenthood presents itself for many. Just when flexibility, availability and presence are crucial to your career path, your time is suddenly drastically curtailed. You cannot be fully present on both fronts at the same time, whilst the field implicitly continues to hold you to that expectation.

Matthieu speaks of a “disappearance of children” in the arts: Unless a presenting venue explicitly focuses on children and young people, they are barely visible in workspaces, on stages or in public contexts. The two worlds seem separate. This is no coincidence, but the result of a sector organised around flexibility, evening work and mobility. For many artists, parenthood therefore implies a withdrawal from that dynamic and an often difficult reintegration into the field.

The persistent notion of who an artist is also contributes to this. Anna states this explicitly: the artist is often seen as a male, autonomous figure, fully dedicated to their practice and supported by an invisible care structure. As soon as artists are also parents or carers, they fall outside that implicit stereotype.

Matthieu adds that leadership determines which needs become visible and which do not. An organisation’s sensitivity is not an abstract concept, but is shaped by the experiences of the people who make decisions there. When leadership positions are predominantly filled by similar profiles, certain realities – such as care, parenthood or other social intersections – are more easily overlooked. This underlines the importance of diverse profiles in leadership positions. Not only in terms of representation, but because different life realities bring with them different questions, priorities and forms of organisation.

Without that diversity, there remains a risk that institutions will continue to operate according to implicit norms that are not workable for everyone.

From development to production

During the discussion, it becomes clear that the needs of artist-parents are primarily situated at the level of development. There is tension regarding the way the field is organised.

Residencies, which offer important development opportunities, are often based on mobility and prolonged isolation, which is difficult to combine with care responsibilities. Informal networks also play a major role: many opportunities arise in evening settings or informal moments where attendance is expected. For parents, these are precisely the moments that are difficult to attend.

In addition, Anna points to the lack of an institutional reflex to actively address these needs. Artists must seek solutions themselves and raise the issues they face, often from a vulnerable position. What is missing is a structural recognition of care as part of artistic practice, including flexibility, time and space to enable non-linear trajectories. Matthieu adds that on the production side, too, these needs are not systematically addressed. According to both, the responsibility for addressing this lies with the institutions. Power dynamics play a major role here: artists sometimes practise self-censorship and do not bring the intimate – such as parenthood – into their work or professional context for fear of not being taken ‘seriously’ and missing out on opportunities.

Matthieu describes how his team responds to specific needs as they arise, for example by temporarily adapting the working environment. In a recent production, for instance, provision was made for an artist travelling with a child: separate spaces were provided, one where the child could rest and one where care could be provided, alongside the workspace itself. The rhythm of the production was also tailored to the needs of the child and parent.

Interventions of this kind demonstrate that flexibility is indeed possible within a production context. These are not structurally embedded practices, but solutions devised on a project-by-project basis. What is striking here is that the request to travel with children or to integrate them into a production is still relatively rare. According to Matthieu, this is not necessarily because it is impossible, but rather because artists adapt to the existing expectations of the field. The production context is not explicitly exclusive, but nor is it actively geared towards care.

Participation for parents

When it comes to parents as an audience, the focus shifts to accessibility and participation. Here, the issue is less about production conditions and more about how parents can be present in an artistic context at all. Practical barriers play a major role: evening hours, formats that require silence and concentration, or spaces not designed for children. Examples such as the childcare provided at the Kaaitheater during (adult) performances or the initiative around International Women’s Day at Les Halles offer possible solutions. In the latter case, care was explicitly organised so that women could participate effectively without the burden of care. Matthieu describes the initiative as a very concrete and practical response to the question of how to rethink care and participation. The starting point is the idea of the feminist strike. But as he notes, ‘not working’ in practice often still means care work at home: children, housework, mental strain. The strike therefore remains incomplete. To break through this, Les Halles organised a space where women can take time for themselves, away from work and home.

Crucially, care is not ignored, but explicitly redistributed: a collective of men takes on childcare and organises activities and workshops. The initiative is not a permanent programme, but a temporary moment within the organisation’s activities. It is precisely in this that it demonstrates both its strength and its limitation: it makes a different organisation of care tangible, but at the same time underlines just how exceptional that situation still is within the broader arts sector.

Accessibility as a lever for inclusion

What emerges strongly from the conversation with Matthieu is that accessibility is not an isolated issue, but a gateway to revealing broader structural barriers. Drawing on concrete experiences, for example regarding artists with children or parents in the audience, it becomes clear how strongly the arts sector is still rooted in implicit expectations regarding availability, flexibility and presence.

Initiatives that respond to the needs of parents make these underlying structures visible. When, for example, consideration is given to childcare, adapted working patterns or bringing a child along to a residency, other questions automatically arise: who can travel? Who has time in the evenings? Who feels welcome in a particular context? In that sense, interventions relating to parenthood act as a lever: they do not merely affect one target group, but simultaneously lower barriers for others. Matthieu places emphasis on communication. Much exclusion stems not only from practical limitations, but from what is left unsaid. When expectations remain implicit, artists and audiences adapt themselves. They do not ask questions, hide their needs or drop out before they even participate.

What is striking here is that accessibility does not require only major interventions. Small shifts – in language, in attitude, in organisation – can already make a big difference. At the same time, the discussion makes it clear that these interventions only have a real impact when they are supported at a structural level; otherwise, they remain exceptions that depend on goodwill.

Matthieu also highlights segmentation as a pragmatic yet meaningful strategy for addressing the tension between accessibility and the reality of the arts sector. Rather than starting from the idea that every event must be accessible to everyone, he proposes creating different contexts more consciously for different audiences and needs. Segmentation here therefore does not mean exclusion, but a broadening of possibilities. By creating different entry points (different times, adapted formats or specific programmes), a broader field of participation emerges. Parents are thus no longer dependent on exceptions, but are given a place within a differentiated offering.

Quick fixes versus structural solutions

When Les Halles considers how to respond to the needs of artist-parents and parents in the audience, a clear distinction emerges between what can be achieved quickly and what is structurally more difficult to embed. On the one hand, there are relatively simple interventions within a production context that have an immediate impact. Such as childcare during a festival and relaxed performances.

However, there is a need for continuity, people and cross-sectoral collaborations to support, communicate and embed this structurally. Without that commitment, these remain isolated experiments. Structural solutions require a different way of organising.

The idea that care provision is, by definition, too expensive is also nuanced. At the same time, it remains an economic consideration within a sector where resources are under pressure and choices must be made. Every additional layer, including care, is added to an already complex and underfunded operation.

As a positive starting point, Matthieu emphasises that the arts sector in Flanders has the opportunity to reinvent itself every five years. A moment in which new practices, discourses and priorities can emerge.

Parenthood as a driving force for practice and programming

During the conversation, it becomes clear that for Anna and Matthieu, parenthood is not only a source of tension but also a productive force within their work. It introduces a different perspective that fundamentally influences their way of working and thinking.

For Anna, this translates into a heightened awareness of time and choices. Parenting forces you to prioritise: what is essential, where do you want to invest your energy, and what can be let go? Paradoxically, this limitation in time has a deepening effect. It makes her practice more focused and conscious, because every decision carries more weight. What once seemed self-evident is replaced by a more defined and intentional way of working.

In terms of content, too, parenthood opens up new perspectives. Themes surrounding care, dependence, vulnerability and relationality take on a different significance. Not necessarily as explicit subjects, but as an undercurrent that helps determine how work is created and interpreted.

For Matthieu, parenthood manifests itself primarily at the level of programming and organisation. It makes him more sensitive to the conditions under which work is created and presented: rhythms, workload, availability and the question of who can effectively participate. That sensitivity translates into more considered choices, not only in terms of content, but also in the way work is presented and for whom it is accessible.

What is striking here is a shift away from a logic of ‘more and broader’ towards ‘slower and deeper’. This reflection challenges the taken-for-granted nature of constant expansion – more projects, more names, more visibility – and makes room for greater depth. Instead of steering programming from a drive for innovation or volume, attention is being paid to processes that develop over a longer period of time.

This shift is accompanied by a critical distance from the urge to compare, which is strongly present in the field. Instead of mirroring what others do or an implicit pace of productivity, there is now scope to apply different criteria: quality of collaboration, sustainability of processes, and the long-term relevance of a project.

Conclusion

During the conversation, it becomes clear that, in the absence of structural support, much of the responsibility falls on the artists themselves. Anna highlights this explicitly based on her own practice and involvement with FAB: issues relating to parenthood are rarely addressed proactively by institutions, meaning that artists themselves must create the space to raise these issues and organise around them.

This self-organisation arises not only out of necessity, but also from a shared realisation that individual solutions are insufficient. Networks function as spaces where experiences are shared, strategies are exchanged and recognition is given to situations that often remain invisible. They break through the isolation experienced by many parent-artists. Although these initiatives are essential, they also take up extra time and energy from people who are already under pressure. Care, artistic practice and the building of alternative structures thus all end up resting on the same shoulders. Self-organisation is therefore powerful, but also burdensome.

Residencies and initiatives that explicitly make space for care become particularly valuable in this context. They not only offer practical solutions – such as allowing children or providing adapted working conditions – but also create symbolic recognition. They make it clear that an artistic practice is not separate from care, and that both can coexist.

As the discussion reveals, such spaces also play a role in professional legitimacy. They allow artists to further develop their careers. This is not insignificant in a field where ‘interruptions’ are often interpreted as setbacks. Initiatives that (re)integrate care make it possible to demonstrate continuity.

The challenge lies in ensuring that these practices do not remain marginal, but are recognised as fully-fledged building blocks for a more sustainable sector.