Who is behind the FLINTA community, and why does the name exist? “Because we need a safe space of our own,” replies Zuzka, who wants to introduce you to her new queer event, HEAT
Zuzka, you’ve been organising the HEAT party for three years now. What made you decide to put together a line-up consisting mainly of FLINT artists?
Definitely the fact that most people in our community don’t have enough space in the techno world. It’s a very male-dominated industry (a field dominated mainly by men – ed.). I wanted to create a space where artists from the FLINTA community (explanation of the term in the next answer – ed.) could perform, to make it clear that they’re playing there because I believe in it, because it brings a different energy. Occasionally I book gay men or other artists outside the FLINTA spectrum, but I try to give most of the space to people from this community.
Let’s explain what the acronym FLINTA actually means – for those who aren’t familiar with it yet.
FLINTA is an acronym for Female, Lesbian, Intersex, Non-binary, Trans and Agender. These are the identities of people who are not cisgender men or who do not fit into the traditional division between men and women. What unites them is that, because of their identity, they often face discrimination, prejudice or misunderstanding in society, which is why safe community spaces are created for them.
Interestingly, the letter L – for lesbians – is actually something of an exception, as it refers to sexual orientation rather than gender identity. Historically, however, it has a firm place in the acronym because lesbian women were at the forefront of the idea of separate safe spaces and face specific pressures in everyday life. In the context of whose safety and support we are concerned with, this therefore makes perfect sense.
Why did this acronym come about in the first place? Many say that the letters are just piling up unnecessarily.
From my perspective, it’s about the fact that when you go to a typical night-time party, masculine energy – and sometimes aggressive energy, though this isn’t necessarily the rule – tends to be very dominant. A lot of men go to clubs to pick up women. People from the FLINTA community simply don’t feel comfortable in that sort of environment. That’s why they started looking for safe spaces – places where they’re welcome and where no one has to worry about being harassed or pushed out of the space.
But HEAT is labelled as ‘friendly’, not a purely FLINTA party. How do you explain that?
I don’t want to bar anyone from entry. HEAT is open to everyone. But I put the line-up together primarily from the FLINTA community, because that attracts that particular audience. If the line-up were completely random and unlabelled, our community might not even notice it. At the same time, it’s lovely for me to see gay men, women and straight people coming together at HEAT – everyone’s dancing together and there’s just a different vibe there. That’s why I say ‘friendly’ – I want the community to come together, not be divided.
How does the atmosphere at HEAT compare to, say, Magion?
Magion is a brilliant project that has successfully carried on the tradition of the former Pioneer and created a huge base for Prague’s queer scene. Its concept, however, is more focused on a classic gay party (more masculine energy).
And that’s exactly where HEAT is different. Take January, for example: although around 50% of the crowd were men, they came accompanied by their female friends, trans or non-binary friends. The vibe is simply a bit different.
Where do you get your inspiration for the format of the events?
Inspiration comes from several directions at once. The whole concept of face-checking and creating safer spaces for the FLINTA community has strong roots in Berlin, but today it inspires underground scenes all over the world.
For me, though, the main impetus was my own circle of friends. Lots of people around me don’t always feel at their best or safe in regular clubs. I want HEAT, and especially the Pride edition, to provide a safe and open atmosphere.
Men also attend HEAT, but according to Zuzka, it tends to be those with a feminine energy and those who don’t entirely identify as cis menPhoto: Zuzana Hakl, HEAT / se svolením
Who else is behind HEAT besides you?
I started out in Altenburg, where they gave me the space, and for the first two events I was just the curator (I created the concept and selected the artists). Then I moved the party to other clubs, such as Ankali or Fuchs2, and it’s entirely my own initiative.
Gradually, others who want to get involved are joining in. For example, DJ TerminusTechnikus created the art installations for the January edition, my partner helps with the organisation, a friend takes care of the photography, and so on. Then there’s a community of people around us who provide ideas and inspiration. It’s like a living organism.
You’re organising a Pride edition on the Altenburg boat on 8 August. What would you say to entice our readers?
Definitely the line-up – it’s really diverse, with something for everyone. I’ve got trans people, lesbians, gay men and artists – it’s a truly diverse spectrum. One of the headliners is a gay artist from Hungary whom I met at Brno Pride and whose energy has stayed with me ever since. Musically, it will build gradually – from deeper, more intense and darker techno, culminating in an uplifting, energetic, almost disco-like joy. By the time the sun comes up, the dance floor will be buzzing with the best energy.
HEAT prides itself on inclusivity. But do you also think about people in wheelchairs or with other mobility impairments?
That’s a great point – and honestly, I hadn’t really thought about this group yet because of the venue’s specific layout. The Altenburg boat is tricky for wheelchair users; the ground is quite uneven and the conditions are technically challenging for everyone in general. But you’re right that when we talk about representation and a safe space for everyone, we can’t forget anyone – and it’s not just about sexual orientation or gender identity. There are more spacious areas on the boat, such as the bow or stern, where people with limited mobility could move about without having to go onto the dance floor. I’ll definitely look into this directly with Altenburg, because this issue deserves attention.
You always have a harm reduction group at events. Lots of people don’t even know what that is. Can you explain it?
Harm reduction is about reducing the risks associated with substance use – but it’s not just about drugs. The group at HEAT provides education: they have a list of dangerous substance combinations, and they’ll point out, for example, that alcohol and ketamine are a very dangerous mix. They don’t forbid anyone from doing anything, but they do provide information. They also have vitamins, fruit, water, condoms and lubricants. And they collaborate with the “Drug Info Site” group – offering anonymous testing of psychoactive substances. Basic tests are carried out on the spot (or you can simply drop a sample into a collection box or send it by post). Unfortunately, people aren’t making much use of it yet, but the service is there. We work directly with https://progressive-ops.cz/phr/ and https://drugsinfosite.org/dis/
How do you feel about harm reduction still being a bit of a taboo subject?
I think it’s important to say that you don’t have to visit this group just because of drugs. If you’re feeling unwell mentally, or if you’re suffering from dehydration after dancing in the heat, come and see them. It’s simply a safe space for any problem. And the fact that people there have free will – we don’t restrict that. It’s about saying: if you decide to do something, here are the risks, and we’re here if you need help.
How does the younger generation view the issue of equality for queer people?
I’m speaking for my own bubble, so it’s not a representative sample. But the people around me feel very strongly about it – they need freedom and equality and are willing to stand up for it. For young people, activism isn’t just about posting on social media. Many get involved in real-world activism. At the same time, I know how much of a psychological toll it takes. When a law like marriage for all is rejected, or when someone in public office spouts hate speech, I see it in my friends – depression and anxiety set in. It really takes its toll on them.
HEAT particularly welcomes the FLINTA community, who can find a safe space herePhoto: Zuzana Hakl, HEAT / se svolením
How did you cope with it yourself?
I went through it myself. Before I accepted myself, I wasn’t well. Especially during puberty. Then I started getting noticed as a DJ and spent a lot of time thinking about what to put in my bio – whether to mention at all that I’m queer. I thought to myself, why should that be my label? But then they rejected the marriage equality bill and I got angry. I started writing about who I am, because I realised that when I was younger and figuring out my sexuality, I didn’t see anyone around me who was like me. I felt completely alone and didn’t want to leave the house for six months. I was sixteen. And I don’t want anyone to feel that way today.
How did your family react to your coming out?
The early stages are often difficult for both sides. Parents’ initial reactions can be painful, and you carry those memories with you for a long time. Over time, however, I came to understand that that first dismissive or harsh reaction often stems from pure fear for their child. Our parents were shaped by a time when people didn’t know how to express their emotions in a healthy way, so concern for a child’s future can initially manifest as a lack of understanding or anger. Looking back, however, I don’t hold it against them at all. The memory may remain, but that initial difficult emotion has faded and been replaced by understanding.
How do you see the future of gender-non-conforming people in ten to twenty years’ time?
I’d like to be positive – and I am. I believe things will get better. But I can’t turn a blind eye to what’s happening in the world, such as the polarisation of society. That’s why I try to do what I can – I create a space where people feel safe. And I hope there will be more places like that.
If you were to invite our readers to HEAT in August, what would you use to entice them?
Definitely the fact that HEAT offers a combination that’s still lacking on our scene. FLINTA events do exist here, of course, but our strength lies precisely in connecting this community with a harder musical genre. We build our line-up around DJs who play uncompromising, hard techno – but at the same time, we show that even harder music can still be incredibly playful, colourful and danceable. The demand not only exists, but is also growing.
