Soon, EXOTIKA will celebrate its one-year anniversary at Lisbon’s Lux Frágil. What began as a Thursday night residency has become a meaningful part of the city’s queer and cultural landscape.
MEIBI
To mark this moment, we sat down with MEIBI, the artist and founder behind the party. We talked about why EXOTIKA started, the need for club culture, and why building it within an established venue was so important. We discussed how the night is run, from booking artists to creating a space where people feel safe to express themselves.
This conversation is about creating something intentional, a place where music meets other art forms, where community shapes the experience, and where the dancefloor becomes a collective space. As EXOTIKA approaches its first year, we look at what has been built, how it has changed the space it inhabits, and what comes next.
EXOTIKA is described as “reinventing clubbing from the perspective of a vision oriented towards the queer community.” What did you feel was missing from the existing club culture that EXOTIKA needed to provide?
For me, club spaces have never been just about music.
They’re social environments for connection, experimentation, and expression in the physical world, grounded in fluidity and plurality. EXOTIKA took form through the need to connect music with other creative disciplines, especially performative ones, shaped by the community and creative energy I found myself surrounded by.Being able to combine local talent, whether through DJ sets or live acts, with performances, video installations, set design, and other creative works is central to that experimentation. It’s what allows each edition to generate something singular, something that can never be exactly repeated.
The residency emerged from within Lux Frágil itself. What was the catalyst for its creation? Was it a specific moment, a conversation, or a gradual realization that this was necessary?
By mid-2023, I was DJing regularly at Lux, often as part of queer lineups. While those nights were already socially inclusive and felt more aligned with my own energy, I sensed something was still missing, not musically, but structurally. Sporadic nights weren’t enough; there was a need for a residency built together with the community, with clear intention and continuity, where the code of conduct prioritized both safety and alignment with queer values. I shared this vision with Dexter and Rui Vargas, whose openness and support made it possible, and it immediately resonated.
Thursdays were also a deliberate choice. Post-pandemic, that day had lost some of its relevance in the scene, but historically at Lux it was a night when nightlife workers could still go out and when the audience arrived with more intention. Being outside the weekend rush allows the space to feel more intimate and intentional, less driven by momentum or trends. That rhythm and opportunity felt right for what EXOTIKA needed to be.
You assert that EXOTIKA is a “cultural and social movement.” What specific social changes do you hope to catalyze, both on and off the dance floor?
In a moment when far-right movements are gaining ground across Europe, creating spaces that actively support non-conforming voices feels essential to me. EXOTIKA contributes by offering visibility, safety, and continuity to artists and communities that don’t easily fit dominant cultural narratives. Especially at night, allowing forms of bonding that rarely exist in daytime relationships built through long hours open for spontaneity, hedonism and repetition over time.
Beyond representation, it also proposes a shift in how we think and relate. I see clubs as a place where knowledge is produced collectively, not consumed individually. That knowledge is circular, challenging the individualistic and hierarchical models that modern culture has long privileged. In that sense, EXOTIKA functions as a platform to demarginalize these ways of thinking, inviting a cultural rupture that is lived rather than purely theoretical.
EXOTIKA is positioned as “subverting (the contemporary scene) from within” by establishing itself at a prestigious club like Lux. Why was it strategically important to create this space from the inside of an established institution, rather than from the outside?
At a time when everyone is chasing the next shiny thing, working with Lux Frágil is also an act of care for what already exists. I try to stay attentive to my surroundings and to where my energy is most needed locally. Lisbon already has a strong network of initiatives doing essential work, from MINA, SLIT, and Maythey, to ARVI, DENGO CLUB, CURVS, Girls Dinner, and the now-closed Planeta Manas, among many others. Rather than duplicating that work, it felt important to position EXOTIKA in a way that could support, amplify, and coexist with what was already happening in the city.
By developing EXOTIKA within Lux Frágil, those values are no longer kept solely at the margins. They move into the spotlight, challenge expectations, become part of a broader conversation, and have the chance to be normalized within a wider cultural context. It also allows emerging artists and practices to be bridged into an established institution, gaining access to visibility, infrastructure, and context that would otherwise take much longer to reach. In that sense, working from within isn’t about replacing existing initiatives, but about amplifying their impact.
Lux’s history also mattered deeply in that decision. Its origins as Frágil, founded by Manuel Reis, made it an artistic and queer haven from the early 1980s through the late 1990s. Although I was too young to experience that period firsthand, choosing Lux was also a way of engaging with that lineage and dedicating myself to carrying its legacy forward.
The musical curation is described as a journey through techno, house, and their “most experimental variations.” How would you define the “EXOTIKA sound,” and how does it differ from a typical night at Lux or other clubs?
Electronic music genres today are as blended and fluid as I want the experience at EXOTIKA to be. Rather than defining a sound through labels, I think of it as an attitude, EXOTIKA sounds like EXOTIKA.
Across two floors and multiple artists each night, there’s contrast: the basement is generally deeper, faster, and more intense, while upstairs is brighter and more open. The common denominator across both is intention. To give a sense of that range, we’ve hosted artists like Mama Snake, Slim Soledad, Lyra Pramuk, Ketarina and many more.
Lux implemented inclusive restrooms for the first time due to EXOTIKA. Beyond the physical space, what are the most important rules or codes of conduct you enforce to ensure it’s a space of “freedom and gender expression without limits”?
There’s a lot that could be said here, but I wouldn’t describe it as enforcement. For me, it’s about creating awareness, starting with how I personally behave and the example set by the people closest to the project, from regulars to collaborators.
Clear guidelines still matter. Club etiquette and codes of conduct, especially within queer spaces, are widely available and essential these days. We maintain zero tolerance for assault, harassment, or any form of discrimination, and we prioritize prevention over correction. That means briefing security at every event, communicating clearly with all staff across front and back of house, and ensuring alignment throughout the night.
Much of that work begins at the door. It was important that this part of the equation received the importance it deserves. To work alongside Batata, Lux’s door angel, we chose Beruno for his sensitivity and deep understanding of the project’s values, knowing that the tone of the event is set before people even enter it.
Have you observed any tangible changes in Lux Frágil’s general operations or overall culture as a direct result of EXOTIKA‘s presence?
The response has been enormous. What stands out most is how consistently the project has been embraced, both by the team at Lux Frágil across all departments, and by clubgoers from across the country. It feels less like a disruption and more like something that was long overdue. Security is often perceived as strict or distant, but at EXOTIKA, the team has shown that it’s possible to operate with a more empathetic and approachable presence. That shift alone has a real impact on how safe and welcomed people feel, and it subtly changes the entire atmosphere of the night.
How do the visual arts and live performance integrate with the music to create the unique, transformative atmosphere of an EXOTIKA night?
Club spaces are inherently places for artistic expression, and for me, it was important to bring different forms of art into a single narrative. I’ve always imagined dancing at the pace of the music, sipping my skinny bitch, subtly feeling other bodies in motion, catching a scent of poppers, and then being surprised by something unexpected. That might be a bride moving through the room, as happened during a performance by IZA NEJUR, or a raw, confrontational action by one of our resident artists, Samba, tearing down pictures of fascist figures such as André Ventura and Salazar and literally swallowing them as part of a performance in collaboration with Kevinlet.
These interventions are far from decorative. They are meant to expand and challenge the audience’s understanding of what a club night can offer. That same logic extends to the spatial design of the night. The DJ booth, the absence of backstage, dancefloor, and performance areas are intentionally reconfigured to encourage collaboration and intimacy, dissolving the traditional separation between artist and audience. Rather than a stage and a crowd, the dancefloor becomes a shared space that brings everyone to the center.
What is the most powerful or affirming feedback you’ve received from someone in the community about their experience at EXOTIKA? What moment made you feel, “This is working”?
“Finally, Lux feels queer again.” That’s something I’ve been told many times, and it stays with me.
Beyond words, what really confirms that EXOTIKA is working is presence. Seeing the same girlies return edition after edition, bringing intention with them, whether through slaying glam or a quieter, generous commitment to the dancefloor, makes it feel collective. Many people now come without even checking the lineup, simply because they trust the curation and the experience itself. It’s no longer something I’m building alone, but something the community is actively shaping with me.
Your own performances are described as using “sound to question identity, power structures, and social norms.” How does your personal artistic mission directly shape the curation and vibe of EXOTIKA?
Being a first-generation East Asian person born in the 90s, growing up in a working-class neighbourhood where xenophobic language like “vai pá tua terra” or “os chineses vieram roubar o trabalho aos portugueses” was normalized, made exclusion a constant in my childhood. I was often the only visibly East Asian person in my environment until college, and that sense of not belonging, combined with later coming out as enby, only deepened that alienation.
Those experiences don’t appear in EXOTIKA as explicit narratives, but they fuel it. They surface in the seriousness and singularity of my DJ sets and in my curatorial choices. I’m drawn to artists and practices that hold complexity and distinctiveness, where pain is transformed into energy. The present will always carry fragments of the past.
That’s how my personal mission shapes EXOTIKA. The night isn’t about explaining identity, but about creating a space where non-normative narratives don’t need justification and can simply exist, and be celebrated.
As both the creator of EXOTIKA and a resident DJ at Lux, how do you navigate the balance between your role as a community leader/curator and your role as a performing artist?
In short, I don’t separate the two. At the moment, I’m in a close relationship with my artistic self, and MEIBI and EXOTIKA are both expressions of that practice. I’m deeply devoted to my work because I see it as a close reflection of who I am in that moment. At a certain point, that inner process made it clear that my work needed to expand into something collective, and EXOTIKA emerged from that realization.
Your previous work with events like MINA and ARVI at Planeta Manas built a deep connection with Lisbon’s queer community. How did those experiences inform and prepare you for launching something as ambitious as EXOTIKA at a major venue?
I’m deeply grateful for the opportunities I’ve been given. I’ve been fortunate to follow, support, and DJ with peers and friends who went on to found some of the most influential Portuguese collectives of the 21st century.
In that sense, EXOTIKA is the result of many years of dedication to a shared culture. It has grown as an extension of my work as a DJ and gradually became a structure that supports and gives form to my artistic mission.
Having played at iconic venues worldwide, how does the energy and challenge of creating a night in Lisbon compare to other cities? What makes Lisbon’s queer and clubbing scene unique?
The economic struggle is real, and it feels increasingly intense year after year. At the same time, I can’t remember a moment with such a concentration of collectives, parties, DJs, producers, and, above all, ideas. Despite the difficulties, there’s an undeniable creative momentum. What makes Lisbon unique right now is this fusion. The mix of cultures, combined with the influx of people from all around the world, has made the city feel more alive.
Alongside Lisbon, spaces like Passos Manuel in Porto, under the direction of Maria Ferreira, as well as Fylhas do Dragão and ACIDA, play an essential role in sustaining experimental, community-driven club and rave culture at a national level.
If you could permanently ban one overused cliché or trend in electronic music/club culture (sonic or aesthetic), what would it be?
TikTok techno.
With EXOTIKA established as a successful residency, what is the next frontier? What is a dream or an ambition for the project that you haven’t yet achieved?
There’s still a lot more to explore. From an artistic perspective, my core ambition has always been to create the right conditions for local LGBTQI+ and POC artists to present their work with care, visibility, and seriousness. Ideally, that support extends beyond the night itself, helping artists grow, connect internationally, and reach wider contexts.
EXOTIKA is not limited to the club. Through platforms like our website, we’re creating space for forms of artistic expression that don’t always translate easily to club nights, allowing the project to exist as a broader cultural universe.
On a longer timeline, I’d love to look back in ten years and hear people say that EXOTIKA was a moment that stayed with them. Not just something they attended, but something that gave them ideas, questions, or perspectives to carry forward.
EXOTIKA was founded by you and a “core of emerging creatives.” How essential is this collaborative, collective approach to the project’s identity and success?
Compared to other cultural experiences like cinema or visiting an exhibition, clubbing feels incomplete if it isn’t shared. For me, that sense of togetherness is the core of it. The human bonding that happens on the dancefloor, whether through a playful kiss or the invisible synergy that forms over long hours, is what makes clubbing truly special.
That collective energy starts long before the doors open. From volunteers and collaborators to staff and team members, EXOTIKA is built through many hands. I try to cultivate a balance between artistic disorder and a familiar sense of care. The result of that constant challenge is where progress develops.
Having a core of people who deeply understand the project is essential. I’m blessed to be supported by Dexter, whose sensitivity and experience have been fundamental; Yuliya Liberda, right by my side since the beginning and responsible for shaping EXOTIKA’s visual language; Samba, whose work brings dance and performance to the center of the experience; Beruno; and many others who contribute in quieter but equally vital ways, from Natí and Vénus Guerra spreading love to Hugo capturing moments through his lens, and more recently António Figueira, who has been helping articulate the project through writing.
What is the one gloriously “cheesy” or mainstream pop song you have a secret love for and would love to drop in the middle of a heavy techno set, but haven’t found the courage to?
I truly believe that every track has its own time and context to shine. It’s less about courage and more about listening for when a track calls for its moment. The “cheesy” folder grows much faster than the opportunities I have to play those tracks, so it’s hard to single out just one.
That said, at the last EXOTIKA I played one of the many remixes of Nothing Really Matters by Madonna during my closing set, and I still get goosebumps just thinking about it.
You’re burying a time capsule to be opened in 20 years that explains the essence of EXOTIKA. You can only put three items in it. What are they?
A half-empty bottle of poppers, a clean, satin-finished transgender flag, and a scarred original EXOTIKA card.
The lights come on at 6 AM, the last track has faded. What is the perfect, quiet, post-EXOTIKA sound or silence to transition back into the “real world”?
Hugs, kisses, calmly heading outside to Lux’s entrance.
Light up a ciggy, glance at the sun rising over the Tejo River, and someone asks softly: “Where’s the after?”
Make your way to Lux Frágil on February 12 to join the celebration of EXOTIKA’s first year.
