Valentin Rion is a performer, curator, researcher, and activist – all at the same time! When Valentin approached the Schwules Museum in 2018 with the sex worker collective “Objects of Desire,” expectations were modest: “They’ll never take us on!” What followed was the beginning of a close collaboration that culminated in 2023 with the highly acclaimed exhibition “With Legs Wide Open.” Today, Valentin sits on the museum’s board. In this interview, Rion talks about queer history and sex work activism, about the principle “Nothing about us without us” – and about what sets the SMU apart from other institutions: the sincere effort to work in a caring, intersectional, and equal manner.

Yasmin: Who’s sitting in front of me today?

Valentin: Today, Valentin Rion is sitting in front of you at the Schwules Museum in Berlin. You’re also looking at a new member of the museum’s board! I actually come from the worlds of art, performance, and dance. But I also do a lot of work on international projects in the sociocultural sector in rural areas, as well as in theaters. And I conduct research and curate exhibitions on sex work, and I’m also active in activism in that area.

Y: Exactly, the wide range of activities you’re describing there matches up with my own research… Which actually showed that you’re what they call a “jack-of-all-trades.”

V: Oh dear, is that what the AI says?

Y: No, that’s what I’m saying!

V: (laughs) Look, during my studies I was part of the scholarship foundation and had a mentor. He looked after a lot of people, was cool and pretty open-minded, had five kids of his own, and talked to me in a sort of fatherly way… He took a look at my life and my career and said: “You’re doing way too many things! It can’t work like that. You have to make a decision!” His question was about finding a common thread in my activities, and I know he meant well. For me, that common thread is there and clear. All my projects are about forming relationships; they’re about the skills and qualities of being together. I’m interested in the lived dimensions of “otherness.” And that always involves the body. This isn’t a politically neutral matter: ethically, for me, all my practical projects revolve around questions of care… That sounds very broad right now, but it unfolds in this way across my interests and the places I end up in through them. I took that advice very much to heart back then, especially after working on a film with Rosa von Praunheim and hearing essentially the same thing from him: “If you want to achieve something in art, you have to focus.” But that’s not really me; for me, everything is always interdisciplinary! I’m not a specialist in anything. For me, it’s more about making connections.

Y: And when you’re at a family gathering and your aunt asks what you actually do for a living… What do you say?

V: Yeah, of course nobody gets it! My grandma didn’t even get it until she died. RIP, Mamé. The easiest thing to say is: I’m a dancer. But because of Covid, my relationship to that and to theater has shifted. But that statement does spark the right kind of imagination in people: it’s about the body, about something poetic and sensual. It’s about intimacy, as is the case in a practical research project I’m currently working on.

Y: Would you specifically list sex among your themes?

V: I think we can always learn a lot from the fringes—or rather, from what is marginalized—especially about the things we’ve lost sight of at the center. For me, sex is a matter of communication. It could actually be treated as a form of performing art. Sex actually has everything it takes to be considered an artistic expression: it can be very poetic, appeals to various senses, has arcs and a composition. That composition is often very simple and not that interesting, but that’s because of the world we live in and how scripted and gendered sex is… That’s why, yes to sex, but specifically sex as a form of communication from which we can learn about ourselves as social and sensual beings.

Y: Despite the intertwined nature of your interests, is there such a thing as a major passion?

V: I do have something of a recurring research question: how do we make contact? That includes how I make contact with others. Ultimately, it’s always about otherness. I’ve been working for a very long time with an organization, the Other Music Academy, where the central theme—both positive and negative—is this: I recognize myself in the other; through the friction of where I supposedly end, I discover myself. That’s also the foundation for various intercultural theories. That’s where life happens, and that’s a great passion. For me, there’s also an underlying belief that we learn throughout our lives. We’re not done after school! I expect society to understand that we learn throughout our lives and what contexts are needed for that.

Y: Can you give us a glimpse into your background, if you have one?

V: (laughs) I come from a privileged, middle-class, and binational household. It was very humanistic and believed in things like international understanding and openness, but without fundamentally questioning the basic structures of our world and Europe. So, I’ve always done many things at once; much to my mother’s chagrin, though she supported it anyway. When I was 15, for example, the question arose as to whether I should skip another grade, go to boarding school, or study abroad—I wasn’t paying attention in school at the time, and my grades were slipping. I decided to spend a year in Thailand, where I stayed with a host family and attended school. My stay there was a bit off the beaten path, in a rural area. It was a deeply formative experience that I’ve written a lot about. The gist of a sentence I wrote back then was something along the lines of “this year I learned how different ‘different’ can be”—meaning that none of my expectations would hold true. That shaped this self-questioning and the need for it—albeit still from a moderately reflective, privileged position. After that, I spent quite a while in the West Bank doing volunteer work, which is why I’ve been engaged with Palestinian contexts ever since. Right now, I find myself thinking a lot about the kind of sensitivity I gained during that time and through the organization I was with back then. For me, it expresses an awareness that I currently lack in parts of the left-wing scene and that is so important to me in the Schwules Museum and in sex work activism. It can be summed up quite simply: Nothing about us without us! As quickly as we find ourselves talking about others, it’s important to remember: Wait a minute, to what extent is this an opinion or a lived experience? It’s okay to ask that! It doesn’t call my competence into question; on the contrary, it opens up an opportunity for critical learning.

Y: The SMU exhibition “With Legs Wide Open,” which you co-curated in 2023, was also guided by this principle. Do you remember how you first got to know the Schwules Museum?

V: The first exhibition I visited there that really fascinated me was “Fenster zum Klo” in 2017! I’m also happy that Marc Martin is part of an exhibition I’m currently co-curating—it feels like things have come full circle. In 2019, we approached the Schwules Museum with the sex worker collective and archive “Objects of Desire,” hoping to exhibit there. I still remember how worried we were: “They’ll never take us on!” Nevertheless, we wrote a proposal and were invited to the museum. There we met Birgit Bosold, with whom I now sit on the board; we both remember that first meeting quite well. Of course, we were totally nervous and asked ourselves, “What’s the hierarchy here anyway?” but it was clear from the start that they were trying to make the institution different—more caring and designed to serve as infrastructure for communities. I sensed a humility on the museum’s part regarding what we brought to the table and what they could learn from us. That was the underlying tone, and I hadn’t expected it to be that way.

Y: Can you give us an overview of what’s happened in society as a whole in this area since then? I know you have a relevant archival item with you—let’s take a look!

V: Yes, I found this photo in the archives of the Schwules Museum of a series of demonstrations by the “Solidarity of the Unrepentant” in Frankfurt. The photo was taken in 1988. And one of the banners reads: “The state is cracking down—first the hookers, then the gays, then YOU!” Actually, the “junkies”—meaning drug users—and the “foreigners” are missing from that list; they were added later. But I think this describes our current political developments very well. When persecution occurs in a society—and in German society, it happens cyclically—it goes something like this. We also set this tone in the exhibition; this is precisely the history of sex work: people think they’re reinventing the wheel and want to criminalize something here, liberalize something there. In reality, all of this has already happened multiple times throughout history. We are currently in a downward spiral socially, one marked by a major regression and accompanied by repression and violence. The rights of minorities and marginalized groups are being called into question again. Criminalization is disguised as protection and salvation, but effectively achieves the opposite—and many human rights-oriented studies demonstrate this. Anyone forced to go underground has less access to their rights and can no longer assert them. That is not the way forward!

Y: Solid analysis! How did you end up in your current volunteer role on the board?

V: I was actually asked. I hadn’t really thought about it myself, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. At first, I responded very cautiously because I’m actually in a phase where I wanted to take it easy, but well, here we are now (laughs).

Y: What was your intention when you took on this role?

V: I didn’t come in with the intention of making huge changes here. I actually want to support the place so that it can keep running. In any case, I see a huge difference between the SMU of 2018 and 2026; a lot has improved in terms of professionalization, structure, and transparency. And again, in the spirit of this caring mindset, I appreciate that the Schwules Museum sees itself as an infrastructure for marginalized perspectives. For me, that includes outreach and collaborations with communities. Right now, I’m also thinking in terms of international collaborations, such as a Europe-wide network of various queer archives and museums. But nothing is set in stone yet, and I’m approaching it cautiously.

Y: In 2019, you exhibited “Objects of Desire,” where the lived realities of sex workers were told through objects, made tangible, and presented in a nuanced way. In 2023, among other things, you brought a “whore’s ride through history” titled ‘With Legs Wide Open’ to the venue…

V: Yes, with WiLeWo, I had the feeling that we could tackle a larger narrative, because we have a safe space, an infrastructure, and funding.

Y: In some parts of the exhibition, you appeared anonymously. May I ask why anonymity and pseudonymity play such an important role in your life and in your work?

V: I wish it were different! I have no intrinsic desire for it, and actually, it goes completely against my nature. I’m an open book! But yes, I have various identities and pseudonyms that crisscross each other. The reason for this is that we live in a world where stigma is very real and where discrimination is practiced against various subjectivities—some of which I identify with, and others that are projected onto me. I can’t really talk about it in detail right now, otherwise I’d be giving all my readers a manual on how to set me up.

Y: Part of your practice is also embodying different characters, like “the nymph” or “the Eternal Whore”…

V: The Nymph started out as an art project that evolved into a drag alter ego. For me, that makes sense on several levels—poetic, mythological… The Eternal Whore isn’t that old yet: she emerged while I was working on the exhibition “Objects of Desire” and is sort of the Nymph’s old aunt, so she’s part of the family portrait.

Y: I’ve seen them share a hat sometimes!

V: Exactly (laughs). They’re definitely connected. I can imagine that, in an artistic-activist way, such kinships keep emerging that, as characters, bring out a certain highlight. I see this as a layered exploration of what defines me as a person. And in a poetic sense, I feel that the whole thing is older than my current experience. Then the work also becomes a kind of tracing, like an onion into which I keep peeling to discover facets, forms, and aesthetics of myself.

Y: The eternal onion, then… The SMU saw With Legs Wide Open as a crowd favorite. How did you perceive the reception of the exhibition?

V: I remember that we had record-breaking visitor numbers at the opening! I remember standing on that bed in the exhibition and having to hold back tears because I was so moved… I could start crying again right now… It wasn’t just sex workers there; it was truly intersectional! The guestbook was full of praise and criticism, and in the story box—which we’d actually set up for sex workers—some clients dropped in their stories. That was pretty funny. It also became clear to me that it moved many young queer people, as well as people who had never had any contact with it before, or people who had hateful and ideologized comments to make; but even with them, I had the feeling that something was being differentiated. The approach of working with cultural history is so great because it doesn’t attempt to romanticize, legitimize, promote, or condemn sex work. Rather, it’s about stating what is real, what history exists, and what cultures have emerged from it—subcultures and communities that still exist today!

Y: Why did the Schwules Museum seem like the right place to tell this cultural history?

V: Well, for one thing, the museum actually approached us with the idea and the options for submitting a proposal. From our existing research, it was already clear that this is an intersectional history and movement that also encompasses queer history. And since a relationship of trust as allies had already been established, I was able to accept it quite easily.

Y: As part of this exhibition, the SMU had actually set out to establish a serious and closer allyship with sex worker communities. Now, with some hindsight, would you say we succeeded?

V: I do believe the project was very empowering. Especially within the Berlin scene. Beyond that, I know that many people in the community saw it and had feedback. As with any activism, there were differing opinions, including some regarding gaps and visibility. For example, there was criticism that the exhibition didn’t show enough about the current history of the movement.

Y: Now With Legs Wide Open is heading to Bonn’s Bundeskunsthalle and opens on April 1, 2026. Will you also be making improvements to the content at that time?

V: We’re trying, for example, to better address that aspect; but that’s already turning out to be a bit of a problem again… I’ve written hundreds of emails with the community—that is, all the different organizations—but we’re running into limitations with funding, space, and also in communication with the museum—which is a real shame! I have to say, working with the Schwules Museum was much smoother: how the budget was used was highly transparent, and we had a say in the matter. In Bonn, this transparency isn’t there, though that certainly has to do with the size of the organization. Of course, the SMU wasn’t able to perfectly implement the guiding principle “Nothing about us without us”—something always goes wrong. But we felt taken very seriously, and we sensed that seriousness in the implementation as well. The SMU signaled to us curators: “We’re here to serve you,” and at the same time provided practical and logistical support. In that regard, of course, we also had a lot to learn. But on the content level, it was clear that the museum does not question or restrict our authorship. In Bonn, the exhibition is structured more so that the curators and the institution speak together; we share the voice. That is a completely different perspective. That was also clear from the start, because a different audience comes to the museum in Bonn. For those visitors, the exhibition has to do much more foundational education. Additionally, there’s the idea that the exhibition’s argument becomes stronger when not only “the whores” speak, but also a seemingly neutral institution. We question this neutrality per se, since we don’t actually believe there’s a neutral space in a field of marginalization. It’s like putting on an exhibition about “women” and claiming that a non-affected (heteronormative, male) perspective in the narrative is somehow neutral because that perspective is the norm. That’s absurd! It’s the same with sex work, though we’re probably not quite there yet for that to be widely accepted. But all of that is another topic altogether… For now, I see the value in the strategy of speaking with a unified voice to an audience that can hear certain things and simply cannot—or does not want to—hear others. In a way, we benefit from the institutional power of the venue. This is very important at a time when politics is once again pushing toward a ban on buying sex and conservative, anti-sex-work discourses are gaining traction.

Y: How cool that the project is breaking out of the Berlin bubble and can use Bonn as a platform! Their visitor numbers are actually several times higher than ours…

V: Yes, we’re expanding the narrative accordingly. It’s no longer just Berlin’s story, but a nationwide one. Still, I’m feeling once again how difficult the communication and decision-making processes are in such a large institution. The hierarchies at SMU are much flatter, so things happen more on an equal footing. This stark contrast brings me to a thought I’d already expressed in my application for the board: that of a caring institution. Normally, it’s integral for institutions to preserve themselves, even if that means going against the individuals within them. There’s a self-perpetuating aspect to this, and it’s somehow embedded in the name itself: to institutionalize, to establish something, and to teach (in Latin). But I don’t think that’s in keeping with the times; rather, it corresponds to a logic from the 19th century. The bureaucracy, power imbalances, work dynamics, and division of labor inherent in this logic are simply not particularly inclusive models. They operate in an exclusive manner and perpetuate many of the asymmetries in our society. As a decidedly queer institution, the SMU strives to reject these and operates with a different sensibility. You can feel that in our collaboration, especially in moments of pressure and stress.

Y: I’m certainly speaking for the whole organization when I thank you for your kind words…

V: There’s always criticism, and it will always be significant. And necessary! But I see the SMU as a sincere attempt to do something better—something that’s truly difficult: namely, working intersectionally. Bringing together and presenting marginalized perspectives creatively and on equal footing.

Y: Thank you, Valentin!

Interview & Photo: Yasmin Künze