MASTEKTOMIE. Ein bittersüßes Abschiedslied (MASTECTOMY: a bittersweet farewell song), a colourful presentation on surgery, care, and affirmation by CHICKS* freies performancekollektiv, returned to Sophiensæle from 26–29 September.
We take our places either on cornering tribunes or rows of blue mats with red blankets. The space is dressed in candy-coloured linings with clusters of props and costumes, soon animated by the performers, recalling the dream-like, AI-generated interiors that saturate my Instagram feed when I doom scroll. Long tassels cascade down the walls; a big blue bed with funky-shaped cushions sits at the centre; a blow-up pool filled with fleshy balls suggests breasts in relation to the title of the work.
A mastectomy, or “top surgery,” removes breast tissue. In mainstream understanding, it is often associated with cancer treatment or prevention for cis-women. Yet it’s also a crucial procedure for transmasculine and nonbinary people aligning with their gender identity. In this autobiographical, musical show-and-tell, CHICKS* member Marietheres Mio Jesse—performing alongside Lovis Heuss and Ophelia Sullivan—reveals the latter as a lifesaving surgery, too.
The performance adopts a children’s TV show-like format: playful, colourful, accessible. At once a light-hearted dive into personal history and public education, it delivers insight and information that we, the audience, can easily absorb. This purpose is urgent. Both reproductive health and gender-affirming care—including procedures like mastectomy—have long been neglected as vital forms of healthcare. In many contexts, trans healthcare is now being actively dismantled.
Accessibility is foregrounded throughout. We are told it is a “relaxed performance,” and if overwhelmed, we have options to feel safe. Warnings are given before sounds or lighting changes; a support person is present. The performance is audio-described live, apart from moments when the trio themselves speak. Such integration of access is sincere and welcome, yet I was surprised there was no translation from German—no subtitles. In Berlin, I often prefer when native German speakers make work in German rather than default to Euro-English, and I personally enjoyed benefiting from ninety minutes of immersion. Still, given the emphasis on inclusion, I wondered: was every audience member fluent in German? In my own experience of audiences in the Berlin independent scene, that is rare.
Some moments gave the experience a literal weight. Jesse passed through the audience a stuffed binder filled with medical bureaucracy accumulated across their surgery journey. Weighing over three kilos, the same as their own late breasts, the folder’s mass prompted me to think about my own small breasts, wonder about the sensation of shedding their weight, and being denied fundamental needs. In the West, shame-based and hateful ideologies are currently manifesting in transphobic violence and legislative bans. Across the US and UK, procedures like those Jesse and Heuss underwent are increasingly denied, rendering their empowering choices and access impossible for countless others, endangering them. Another tactile moment resonated when Jesse and Heuss embraced, noting how their hearts now rest closer together. I instinctively placed a hand on my own chest, aware of my heart cushioned beneath tissue, and imagined what it might feel like if it lay nearer the surface of my skin, meeting the world and others.
MASTEKTOMIE. Ein bittersüßes Abschiedslied (MASTECTOMY: a bittersweet farewell song), by CHICKS* freies performancekollektiv, was shown at Sophiensæle from 26–29 September 2025.
