In Loving Memory of Kirsi Heimonen (1959–2024)
Doctor of Dance, artist, researcher, teacher – and beloved member of the SRT community
We are deeply saddened to share the passing of Kirsi Heimonen, who died suddenly in an accident at her family’s summer cottage in Hankasalmi, Finland, on July 5, 2024.
Kirsi was born in Laukaa, central Finland, and initially trained as a schoolteacher and humanist at the University of Jyväskylä. In the late 1980s, she left that path to fully devote herself to dance. She sold her belongings and moved to London to study at the Laban Centre, graduating with a master’s degree in dance.
On returning to Finland, she helped shape pedagogical studies for dance teachers at the Theatre Academy (now Uniarts Helsinki), where she also initiated Finland’s first formal training in community dance art in 1998. Kirsi was a founding member and honorary member of the Finnish Community Dance Association.
From the early 2000s, Kirsi worked for about ten years as a dance artist within the Helsinki Deaconess Institute, dancing for instance with people living with memory-related illnesses. She also contributed there to several projects that examined the use of art and art-based methods in social work.
In 2009, she completed her doctorate in dance at the Theatre Academy with the dissertation A Dive into Movement, exploring how to write about the corporeality of dance. Alongside her research, she created short films, including Täällä jossakin (“Somewhere Here”), in which she embodied the experiences of psychiatric patients through movement, shaped by real-life accounts.
Kirsi was a modest, analytical, and insightful presence—always willing to help others. She was cherished by her colleagues at the Uniarts Research Institute. She loved walking in nature, mushroom picking, long dinners with friends, and being near water. Her connection to trees and the forest was especially profound.
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I met Kirsi in the early 2000s during a one-year course for professional dancers called Flowing – A Series of Movement Laboratories, organized by the Theatre Academy. It was here that both of us encountered Skinner Releasing Technique (SRT) for the first time, through the guidance of Lily Kiara. Entering the world of SRT felt like coming home—gently seismic and quietly life-changing. It became central to both of our lives and work.
Soon after, we performed together in care homes in a piece called Kaikuja (“Echoes”). Kirsi became my mentor in bringing improvised dance to these deeply human spaces. Her fearlessness in performing close to the elderly—in full presence, open to both touch and response—was inspiring.
When I look back, I see a rhythm to our collaboration. Every five years, we would find ourselves working together again. In 2005, Kaikuja in care homes. In 2010, an outdoor improvisation at the Community Dance Festival in Tampere. In 2015, we created Jokapäiväiset liikkeet ( “Everyday Movements”), performing in libraries, public spaces, and even bookmobiles in Tornio and Helsinki. SRT was always present in our process—in how we moved, listened, perceived and responded.
Kirsi carried SRT into all parts of her life, including her research and writing. In one of her publications, she wrote:
“The porousness of corporeality, a particular kind of attunement and openness, a way of perceiving the world, is offered to me by the Skinner Releasing Technique… This somatic practice has influenced everything I do: reading, writing, speaking, breathing and moving… Letting go—the most important principle—entails giving up one’s habits and conventions, ranging from stiff muscles to ways of thinking, that prevent one from perceiving what is unfolding in each moment. It has brought an alertness that encourages one to question one’s own actions.”
(From: Engraved in the Body, Springer, 2021)
Her work—across dance, research, film, and community—was infused with this porousness, this principle of letting go.
Her sudden departure has been hard to bear. Kirsi was a friend as well as a colleague to me. I can still hear her full-hearted, trickling laughter. And now, anytime when I’m outdoors and a strangely behaving bird appears—or I hear an unusual birdsong—I like to think it’s Kirsi. She’s come to remind me of joy, lightness, and the art of release.
Thank you, dear Kirsi, for all that you shared with me and with this community. You are deeply missed—and profoundly present.
Titta Court
Link to some of Kirsi’s writings:
