DDW 2025: Past. Present. Possible.
I read it quickly, as the car sped by: “Visit 2050 in 2025.” A simple and effective message, at least for me, since as soon as I got home, I rushed to open the website for Dutch Design Week (DDW) in Eindhoven. For 25 years now, every October, in this City of Lights - as it’s been known since the 19th century - gather designers from across the globe who are determined to shape the future. Nestled in the heart of a technology and innovation ecosystem, Eindhoven is the perfect setting for such an event, connecting the present with the future. This anniversary edition, themed Past. Present. Possible., also includes many talented young Romanians, graduates of internationally renowned universities in the Netherlands. The next two Postcards from Amsterdam are dedicated to them. And I’ll begin with Laura A. Dima, born in Brăila, Romania.
Technology, Empathy, and Responsibility
In 2015, Laura graduated from the Gerrit Rietveld Academy of Art, and this year she completed a master’s degree in Art & Science at the Royal Academy of Art in The Hague. The Romanian-born artist creates multimedia installations that blend art and science, performance, and technology.
I met Laura in her studio in The Hague (she also has one in Amsterdam), where she was making the final adjustments to the installation she is presenting at DDW Eindhoven. The Alien Between Us: Intimacy Through Biofeedback is her graduation project, and this is her third participation in Dutch Design Week.
DDW - Joris van den Einden
L.D.: “There are two identical silicone sculptures, with electronics inside. They operate using air pumps, and this sensor detects human presence, pulse, and breathing. All of that is simulated inside the sculpture’s body.”
She started explaining the moment she opened the door. I sat next to her on the studio floor, among the many wires waiting to be connected to the pulse-simulating motors.
L.D.: “I’m just going to check if I wired everything correctly and then turn it on. I also have a thermostat here that warms them up to human body temperature. Look at the temperature now. What just happened? The sensor detected me, and the sculpture lit up. So if you come here and touch it, you’ll feel it has a pulse, it breathes. This sensor picks up my body, and the other one picks up yours. So what I feel is the pulse and breath of the other person. And meanwhile, the sculpture also heats up.”
The two silicone sculptures are shaped like a fetus. Each one is held by a person in a separate booth, out of sight from one another. The sculptures are not only connected to motors that simulate pulse and breathing, but also to electrodes that register the user’s movements and reactions. Any aggressive or violent action is penalized.
L.D.: “The shape represents a fetus in the early weeks of development, between 3 and 5 weeks. It looks a bit like a tiny animal. It has no sex at this stage, so it’s genderless. I thought that was a powerful metaphor because you can project anything you want onto it. It has no fixed identity. When we interact with others, we often respond to age, gender … whether you’re a man, a woman, or something else. We all carry prejudices, not necessarily bad ones, but deeply ingrained. But when you interact with something that lacks identity, you connect to something more primitive, more profound. You don’t think, ‘Oh, I’m touching someone I like’ or ‘someone I dislike.’ It becomes a prejudice-free connection. At least, that’s how I imagine it.”
While Laura continued adjusting the wires, I picked up one of the sculptures. Her hands moved with precision as she continued:
L.D.: “If you try to strangle it, for example, you’ll get a strong electric impulse and won’t be able to touch it for a few milliseconds, your hand will be paralyzed by the shock. My system creates an emotional experience. And then we start asking ourselves: what role does technology play? How do we communicate with each other? Can we become emotionally attached to objects? And even more importantly, does this generate empathy for the other person, for nature, for everything? Because every action has consequences. And we can feel those consequences locally, like the electric shock, or they can manifest somewhere far off in an ecosystem we don’t even realize we’re affecting. That’s why the penalty is not just for the person who abuses the sculpture, the other person feels it too. So even if you didn’t do anything wrong, if the other person chokes the sculpture, both of you will feel the punishment.”
DDW Promo The Alien Between Us
How could this be applied in daily life? What benefits could the sculpture have for someone with emotional difficulties?
L.D.: “I’ve been in touch with several organizations who told me it could be used to calm people in stressful situations, or help us better recognize emotional changes in others. Usually, we’re unaware of how we change, when our pulse rises, or we become stressed. Often, we don’t want to be aware. But our body tells us. It always sends signals. And this sculpture, because the sensors collect data in real time, can warn us: ‘Hey, something’s happening.’ In the future, I want to use more sensors to collect clearer data. Right now, you can see changes in pulse and breathing reflected in the colors. But I want future versions of the sculpture to respond differently depending on whether they detect stress or excitement or joy. At the moment, the physical response is too similar to distinguish between them. Also, right now you can only feel the other person’s data, but I’d like to integrate a monitor that also shows your own emotional state in real time.”
How did you end up in this artistic space, what made you start creating these types of works?
L.D.: “I was a bit disillusioned with contemporary art, it felt distant. I was craving connection. So I wanted to create an artwork that required physical interaction, where connection could only happen through touch. In 2019, I created a kind of rug made of 1,300 silicone fingers, moulded after my then-partner’s hand. People entered a completely white room and lay down on this warm sea of fingers. I had a soundscape composed especially for the piece, delivered through five speakers, four in each corner and one under the finger mat that transmitted only vibrations. The vibrations followed the rhythm of the music, sometimes stable, sometimes fast, like a heartbeat.”
“I premiered it during the pandemic in 2020, so I had to implement social distancing, but that was actually the original idea. I wanted the experience to be one-on-one. Just you and the artwork, no distractions. We’re always surrounded by stimuli. In that white room, you were alone, invisible, and free to explore the work however you wanted. Everyone had a transformative experience. That’s when I realized: I want to create art that changes us.”
Laura A.Dima - Finger Rub Rug
Who are your favorite artists, those who inspire you?
L.D.: “Marina Abramović has inspired me since university. I think she pushed the limits of what art can be. But also, Constantin Brâncuși has had a huge influence on me. A man from a small Romanian village, who supposedly walked to Paris because he wanted to become an artist… and he ended up creating works that defined modern sculpture. He was the first modern sculptor in history. How is it possible that someone from Romania became such an important figure in art history? That inspires me so much. The Kiss, for example, really resonates with the concept behind my own work.”
Laura A. Dima
Art as a Tool for Healing
Did any audience reaction stay with you, something that really moved or surprised you?
L.D.: “I remember an older couple. The man told me it was a very special experience for him and his wife. They had a daughter who was born prematurely, very tiny. They had to hold her wrapped against their chests for hours every day so she could feel their warmth and heartbeat. Otherwise, she couldn’t develop properly. Children without that kind of physical contact often face cognitive and developmental issues. For them, the sculpture brought back those moments, holding their baby close so she could survive those early months. That’s when I understood just how vital physical warmth is. No matter how much we try to connect via technology - texts, video calls - it’s not the same as touch, as truly feeling someone’s presence. And I wonder: can technology evolve to the point where it reconnects us… even in that intimate, bodily way?”
