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In the Honey Pot

Muhammed Kaltuk is the new head of dance at the Musiktheater im Revier (MiR) in Gelsenkirchen. His recipe for success: openness, getting a feel for the city, and bringing the community on board

by Rico Stehfest

He speaks of creating, of dancing, and of being the best version of himself. Muhammed Kaltuk is constantly on the move—two days here, then off somewhere else. He speaks half-jokingly about having ADHD; the urge to move has always been part of him. A fusion of hip-hop influences and contemporary dance has become his trademark—a style that places him right at the cutting edge. The theater in neighboring Oberhausen has long maintained its own Urban Arts ensemble, and Kaltuk is now set to collaborate with its artistic co-director, Kwame Osei, during his inaugural season at the Musiktheater im Revier (MiR).

Kaltuk was born and raised in Reinach, south of Basel. He comes from a family with deeply traditional Turkish roots. As a child and teenager, he helped out in his parents' restaurant—an experience that seems to have kept him remarkably grounded. Anyone who meets him quickly notices how he comes across as simultaneously humble and focused—indeed, determined. It seems only logical that he has now taken the helm of TanzGelsenkirchen, the company’s official name as of this season.

Hip-Hop as a Safe Space
His first encounter with hip-hop took place at a youth center in his hometown. He was 14 at the time. "I’d always been in touch with the music in some way. Then I saw a battle for the first time. That body language! It was so direct. That’s when I knew: This is what I want to do". He is a hip-hop artist through and through, speaking of it as his safe space. Kaltuk started dancing at 15, joining a dance school six months later. Two years on, he became part of the performance group Special Elements, with whom he won the Swiss hip-hop championship title in 2009. Had it been up to his parents, he would have played soccer instead of dancing. When he began working as an instructor himself at 18 or 19, they realized it was a way to earn money. In fact, he wouldn't have been able to afford the fees for the training sessions where he wanted to learn himself. Even back then, his mindset was evident: Kaltuk simply approached the dance school management and clearly stated his desire to dance. In response, they offered him the chance to clean the studio or to work as an instructor himself, thereby making his participation possible. "I’m still like that. If I want something and it isn’t possible, I say: 'Hey, I’d really like to do this. How can we make it happen?' I think hip-hop culture is more understanding or flexible in that regard than a ballet school." He speaks with genuine gratitude for having always had people by his side to support him. Giving something back is important to him.

Nevertheless, his parents insisted he get vocational training—something "sensible." That meant training as a healthcare specialist in a retirement home. While Kaltuk worked shifts caring for people with dementia, he was simultaneously dancing semi-professionally and establishing a school in Basel. In his early twenties, he eventually landed a role as an understudy in a theater production. "Up until then, my experiences with theater had been rather off-putting. People would be naked and spitting on the floor. That wasn't my language. In that production, I realized that I could create something myself—something that would take me, and people like me, to a place where we could find ourselves and feel seen."

One thing quickly led to another: "At 25, I started at the college for contemporary and urban stage dance and learned everything in three years. During that time, we also had a class on choreography. That’s when I experimented and choreographed pieces for friends—pieces that were performed at open-stage events in Zurich, Basel, and Bern." Suddenly, names like Pina Bausch—whose themes captivated him—and Graham technique—which he described as having a "stunningly beautiful" posture—entered his life.

Wonderfully Curious
In 2020, Kaltuk won first prize for choreography at the International Solo-Dance-Theater Festival Stuttgart. His piece was performed by Tanaka Roki, who has been a member of the ensemble in Lucerne for several years now. That was the breakthrough moment. Richard Wherlock—director and chief choreographer of Ballett Basel from 2001 to 2023—approached him, asking if he would like to choreograph for the company. Wanda Puvogel also discovered him through this; the co-artistic director of the Lucerne Theater had been Director of TanzLuzern. She describes Kaltuk as "wonderfully curious." She had him choreograph a 20-minute piece: "We gave him an afternoon to play around with the stage. It was like a kid in a toy store. He experiments, he takes chances, he goes after things and makes something of them." She quickly recognized his drive: "It didn't just fall into his lap; rather, he is curious to find out what is possible and where. He actively seeks things out instead of waiting for someone to come to him." Isabella Spirig, who has been heading Danse Suisse since 2024, confirms this: "He knew I was friends with Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui. So he simply asked me if he might be able to meet him. That’s his kind of reaction to my recommendation: Think big!"

St. Gallen, Lucerne, Basel—in the end, they all approached him. Kaltuk quickly began choreographing in all these places. Yet for him, this is anything but child’s play: "I find it difficult to choreograph and perform on stage at the same time. I can’t do that yet. By now, I could dance in Same Love because everything is just right; it works. But for me, it is very difficult to create a piece that holds up within a theatrical context. That’s why it’s better for me to be on the outside, exchanging ideas with the dramaturge and others."

Community at Its Best
He premiered the piece in Gütersloh in 2024, a collaboration between his own company, MEK, and the Urban Arts Ensemble Ruhr. It was his third full-length production to date. As part of the Tanztriennale in Hamburg, Kaltuk presented it outdoors as a "site-specific drama." The soundtrack alone weaves together a vast array of cultural references with remarkable organic ease. It tells the story of a fraught emotional connection threatening to shatter under the weight of societal pressures—a theme that resonates across cultures. He also toured this summer with his work Father Politics (2021), which is set to be performed in Gelsenkirchen as well. Guest performances have taken him to Ghana, Uganda, Tanzania, and Egypt; India is currently under discussion. Thanks to marketing? Not particularly. These days, the magic word is Insta.

It is fair to describe it as a project that has taken on a life of its own. Kaltuk reaches not just many people, but—it feels like—everyone. In several countries, he has shared the rights to Same Love with local dancers, allowing them to tour with the piece themselves. It is community at its best—and not just for the sake of it, as Wanda Puvogel emphasizes: "He has a very clear message in his pieces. And for him, it’s about getting that message across to people, not just standing on stage and making a statement for his own sake. He doesn't want to pat himself on the back and say, 'Right, I’ve finally voiced my opinion.' His goal is to get people on board and build a connection with the people he creates for. I find that very unusual.”

Catja Loepfe—who served as Artistic and Managing Director of Tanzhaus Zürich until the end of last season—also speaks of his high level of professionalism and clear vision. In 2019, she gave Kaltuk a platform in Show-off, the venue's showcase for emerging talent. She views Kaltuk as a generous and approachable individual—though she offers a slight caveat: "He has big ambitions—sometimes, perhaps, too big." In Zurich, Kaltuk received two years of conceptual funding, becoming what the venue calls a "Komplize" (accomplice/collaborator). It was there that he developed the "Common Ground" concept, inviting the public to monthly "sharing" sessions. "He regularly packed the house with those events because he simply knows how to engage the community through a genuine spirit of solidarity." He is continuing this work in Gelsenkirchen with the new monthly format "Tanz.Hautnah” which offers glimpses into training sessions and rehearsals. Tickets for the inaugural event in late October sold out as early as mid-August.

Yet Muhammed Kaltuk is by no means a factory-style producer of work. "Many choreographers create several pieces in a single season. I can’t do that. I certainly need a year or a year and a half for a piece. I feel that the process of working through things is important. Dealing with it is important." That’s why, following the premiere of Kleine Hände in Gelsenkirchen in November—featuring songs by Bettina Wegner—there are no further premieres of his own scheduled for this season. He has been working on a second piece since the summer of 2025: his first full-length solo performance for Kaserne Basel. "I need time, breathing room, exchange, and also education. I want to further my training and expand my art; for that, I need time and the freedom to experiment. Sometimes I feel a desire to be bolder and more extreme—to dive into a production without the fear of falling. I have to keep reminding myself to shut out the pressure of a production and focus instead on my intuition and the movement." It almost sounds as if he is apologizing—even though there is hardly anything wiser than staying off the hamster wheel.

A Foothold in the Independent Scene
In concrete terms, this means that over the initial three-year term of his contract, he will personally create only two productions. Catja Loepfe puts this into perspective: "He is producing a limited number of pieces in Gelsenkirchen because maintaining a foothold in the independent scene is so important to him. To me, he is a classic bridge-builder in that regard." But before Gelsenkirchen even appeared on the horizon, Kaltuk had a vision of a "ten-year project" in mind—a cultural center, a space where everyone is welcome. Or perhaps training as a  dog sitter. His unsettled lifestyle leaves no room for a dog of his own. So: a foster care model. Or delving further into care work—training with the Swiss Red Cross in emergency and crisis management. He felt that what he was giving back to the world—the good he was doing—wasn't enough. And then came the email from Frank Hilbrich, the MiR’s new General Intendant as of this season. Was he open to a conversation? Joining an institution? Kaltuk, the free spirit?

So, to begin with, he sounded people out and listened to others' opinions—including Wanda Puvogel’s. Two days before his appointment at the theater, he was already in Gelsenkirchen, checking out the city and its communities, and talking to people: "My expectation is that the theater reflects the city and collaborates with it—that the city and the theater are one." He was impressed by the immense size and diversity of the community of people perceived as Arab or Turkish. That wasn't something he was used to from Switzerland. Next, the sheer size of the theater blew him away. And Frank Hilbrich approached him with complete openness, asking: "What is your vision? What do you want to do?"

One thing was clear to Kaltuk: hip-hop dancers within the institutional structure of a permanent company—that doesn’t work. What he wants and needs is freedom and exchange—for the dancers, but also for himself. He finds that in Gelsenkirchen. He also made clear: He is political—advocating for the marginalized and for visibility, and standing against violence. That is something he will not abandon. Hip-hop is political, and that is what he intends to—and will—bring to the stage. Censorship in cultural spaces? Not with Kaltuk. He has the institution’s blessing. He and Hilbrich have reached an understanding regarding fundamental values, guidelines, and a strategy. Kaltuk takes his responsibilities seriously. For his part, Hilbrich is “amazed by Kaltuk’s openness,” describing him as a “deeply committed curator.”

Hybrid Model
The result is a hybrid model for the company, in which dancers are permanently employed while also having the opportunity to work as freelancers. Those who work "away" for periods of time simultaneously create space for guest artists from the independent scene—of whom there is no shortage, particularly within the Ruhr region's hip-hop community. The company’s existing ensemble—which has developed impressively under the direction of Giuseppe Spota since 2019—has not been entirely replaced; a good half of the new dancers come from the "old" lineup. New additions include Dhélé-Tchekpo-José Agbetou, a renowned hip-hop artist and a dedicated board member of the umbrella organization Tanz Deutschland.

An open call for the positions drew 900 applications. Everyone currently on stage is well-versed in both hip-hop and theatrical contexts. They are not strictly hip-hop artists—a point Kaltuk is keen to emphasize. This blend will be showcased in double and triple bills—formats designed to be as diverse as possible, aiming to engage a broad audience and draw them into the venue. He also frequently incorporates Dabke, a traditional Levantine folk dance. There is a large community for this in Gelsenkirchen, and he views inviting them to future workshops as part of his mission. Isabella Spirig puts it succinctly: "He understands the meaning of community. It is part of who he is, and it is something he actively seeks out. Bringing the community into theater spaces and genuinely fostering exchange has always been a matter close to his heart."

There are ideas for collaborating with mosques and churches. Stepping out of the theater space to dance in the street. Fusion, connection, and accessibility are the watchwords. "For me, free is best. But I know I’m operating within a structure, and it’s a matter of give and take. It’s important to find what works for everyone," says Kaltuk. Frank Hilbrich takes an even broader view: "To do this, we need to bring in people who speak the language of the local community—not just in words, but through their artistic signature. I certainly wouldn’t stage classical ballet here. We need a dedicated dance division—one that stands out from venues in cities like Wuppertal, Düsseldorf, or Dortmund." Hilbrich emphasizes that state-funded theaters absolutely must learn to forge meaningful partnerships with innovative players from the independent performing arts scene. What more could one ask for? Muhammed Kaltuk is, by his own account, ready for the battle. In both senses of the word. Or, as Wanda Puvogel puts it: "Muhi is going to land in a honey pot in Gelsenkirchen."

"Tanz.Hautnah" on 24 October; the premiere of Kleine Hände is on 14 November, with further performances on 22 November, 12, 17 and 31 December, 30 January and 6 February;

www.mirgelsenkirchen.de

Portrait at the top of the article:
© Sascha Kreklau
Background photo: Rehearsals for Kleine Hände with TanzGelsenkirchen; © Julius Ude