Good-bye! a kind good-bye

24 January 2025 — by Team Veem

Good-bye! a kind good-bye,
I bid you now, my friend,
And though ’tis sad to speak the word,
To destiny I bend
– Mark Twain

Last Sunday we came together one last time in the theater of Veem. Cradled between its arches we mourned and celebrated the place where so many of us shared their first performances, fell in love with theater, made lifelong friends and found comfort. Through a variety of set-ups, talented artists shared their creative interpretations of grief and the bittersweet celebration of endings. Their performances took us on an emotional journey: moments of sadness were followed by bursts of laughter. At one point, we screamed at the top of our lungs; the next, we listened with rapt attention. We danced together, shared hugs, and reconnected with those we hadn’t seen in a while. We could not have hoped for a more meaningful farewell.

So, we would like to extend our heartfelt thanks to the three incredible curators who brought this evening to life with their creativity and hard work: Alice Pons, Olivia Reschofsky and Vincent Riebeek. You made this farewell a moment we will always treasure. We would also like to thank all the artists who shared their energy, passion, and creativity with us: Mavi Veloso, Aryelle Freeman, Clara Saito aka SadSato ClaClown, Raoni/Muzho Saleh, Anto Lopez Espinosa, Reza Mirabi, Taka Taka and Margo van de Linde. Through the cello’s rich, resonant tones, the power of your voice, the rhythm of your dance, and the depth of your words, you brought this evening to life and left us with lasting memories.

And finally, we would like to thank you, our dear readers, for supporting Veem—as a visitor, performer, former employee, board member, co-producer, or friend. As we say goodbye to Veem House, let it be a joyful farewell, one from a friend whose path may be uncertain for now but will always hold a special place in each and every one of us.

To capture the essence of this unforgettable evening, we’ve included photos of the night, made by David Cezer, below, along with the letter Olivia and Alice wrote to Veem House. We hope these moments bring the spirit of the night to life for you.

Thank you,
Team Veem

A letter to Veem House By Alice Pons and Olivia Reschofsky.

Dear Veem house,

It is difficult to speak to you today. Because it feels like my words will only be too small to include everything you are and have been for others. There have been so many people in your life. Being part of you, around you, as makers, doers, visitors, thinkers. So many of us who built memories within your walls. How many artists have you welcomed here? How many people? How many ideas and dreams? How many fights have you fought? How many financial diets have you been on? How many times did you have to renew yourself? How many celebrations did you have? How many speeches?

I have been your friend for 15 years. And I had the privilege to be with you these last months and hold your hand until the end. This time it wasn’t about trying to be something or proving to be someone, but simply about being—unfiltered, transparent, and beautifully vulnerable. You stood strong all the way through, and even now, you remain powerful. Look around you—look at all these people who have gathered here, just for you. I’m proud of you.

I recently came to understand your impressive history. There were times when you were truly glorious, when you stood tall and proud, a center of art and community. Your beginnings were humble, rooted in innocence and a genuine passion for creation—when you were squatted in 1981, wasn’t it? From those uncertain beginnings, you made your way up. You grew. You thrived. Many came to know you, to cherish your presence, to feel at home within your walls. I was one of them.

Over the years, I got used to every one of your details: your walls, your structure, the texture of the wood, the architecture that somehow held both age and modernity. I remember my first impressions of you. I thought you were extraordinary. Even beautiful. You weren’t like the others. There was something in you that felt timeless, as though history itself exhaled softly through your walls.

But then things took a turn, some would say. Something happened. Changed. There was of course Covid, you became empty, not that it is the reason for everything. But it hit hard. What else? I’m sure everyone has their ideas, opinions but it does not matter to me. Change is necessary. And it seems like a time for change. A friend told me once, that before we move into the new, the next, the hope, the future, let’s acknowledge what has been lost, what is finished, what will never be the same. That is grief.

Sharing grief. That is perhaps a bigger thing than you right now. That we should all do for all of us. For every one. Beyond our circle. Recognizing, acknowledging, validating our grief and the one of the others. Sharing grief.