Kim
Meet Kim—a robotics researcher, educator, and contemporary dancer from Lebanon. Now based in Amsterdam as an assistant professor at the Vrije Universiteit (VU), he moves fluidly between labs, lecture halls, and dance studios. With one foot in science and the other in performance, Kim explores how movement, improvisation, and technology can inform—and humanize—each other.
So... are you a scientist who dances, or a dancer who builds robots?
Kim: I love that question—and honestly, I think I’m both. I work as an assistant professor in AI and robotics, so yes, I spend a lot of time thinking about algorithms, behavior, movement—how machines can interact with the world in more human-friendly ways. But before and alongside all of that, I’ve been dancing since I was young. I trained in ballet, danced in a company in Lebanon for six years, and today I explore contemporary dance, flamenco, and improvisation.There was a time when I thought these two paths had to stay separate—one in the lab, the other on the stage. But the more I worked, the more I saw the connections. Both fields are about movement. About sensing and responding. About presence. In robotics, I explore how a system can learn from interaction. In dance, I do that with my body. It’s not just that they inform each other—they feed each other. My work lives in that intersection. So, am I a dancer who builds robots? Yes. And a scientist who dances. One gives structure. The other brings it to life.You’re originally from Lebanon. Has your upbringing there influenced the work you do now?
Kim: Absolutely. Growing up in Lebanon meant living in a context that was constantly politically unstable. There was fire everywhere—literally and metaphorically. War, explosions… that kind of external chaos meant I didn’t really need to cultivate my own inner fire. It was already there, burning all around me. But after leaving Lebanon—after moving to places like the US, Portugal, and then the Netherlands—I had to learn how to find that fire within myself. More recently, I’ve taken up flamenco dancing, which is also deeply about inner fire and self-expression. That contrast between outer instability and inner calm—or vice versa—has been a running theme in my life.
You talk about dance with such emotion. What does it mean to you?
Kim: Dance is where I feel most alive. It's a practice, a language, a way of thinking. I trained in ballet and contemporary dance. Ballet is about discipline, structure, pushing the body to its limits. Contemporary dance offers more fluidity and expression. But for me, the most meaningful shift happened when I discovered improvisation—it changed my entire view of dance. It’s not just about performance anymore; it’s about being present, about listening to my deepest intuition. Sometimes when I dance, especially when I improvise, it feels like I’m activating a completely different part of my brain. It’s a kind of high—almost psychedelic. And there’s this visceral quality—it doesn’t come from the mind or even the heart, but from the guts. It’s a way to make sense of the world through the body in stead of the mind, and in that way, it’s very close to science.Close to science? Explain—how are the worlds of robotics and dance connected for you?
Kim: Most people see dance and robotics as opposites, but for me, they’re deeply connected. In both, you're dealing with movement, embodiment, communication—just through different mediums. I started in robotics by exploring how robots could express internal states using non-verbal cues, like lights or patterns. We even brought puppeteers and dancers into our lab to show us how they would want robots to move. I think we’ve barely scratched the surface when it comes to understanding how technology and performance can inform each other. One thing I’m especially curious about is how we can get robots to improvise—not just repeat pre-programmed movements, but actually respond and adapt like a human or a dancer would. It’s about bringing creativity and openness into tech design.
You sound so positive talking about AI. It feels like many people are hesitant, even fearful of it. Can you understand why?
Kim: I completely understand, and I think the fear is valid—but often misplaced. We tend to fear what we don’t understand. AI gets wrapped up in these apocalyptic narratives about robots taking over the world. But the real risks are often more mundane—like bias, privacy issues, and the reinforcement of inequalities. These are the problems we need to focus on. That’s why I push for a more social, user-centered approach in my research. I believe the people who will use these technologies should be part of the design process from the very beginning. Not just as subjects, but as collaborators. In one of our ongoing projects, we are including people with strong negative attitudes toward AI in our studies—not to convince them otherwise, but to understand them better. That’s the only way to build technology that truly empowers people.That sounds like a very human approach to tech. How do you bring that into your work at the university?
Kim: I teach and research in a group called “Social AI” at the VU, which focuses on exactly that—making technology more human-centered. I’m interested in how robots can learn from the people they interact with, kind of like apprentices. Not these perfect machines out of the box, but systems that evolve and adapt. That opens up possibilities not just for efficiency, but for creativity, co-creation, and even play. I also want to explore how to apply these ideas in healthcare—especially elderly care. For example, robots that help elderly people stay independent rather than replacing human contact. It’s not about replacing people, but about giving individuals more autonomy and dignity. That’s what excites me—using tech not to fix problems for people, but with them.And interestingly, we’ve found that people often respond better to robots when we stop trying to make them overly human. In our research, we ask whether people prefer pet-like robots or human-like ones, and time and time again, they choose the pet. It’s about companionship without the uncanny pressure of trying to mimic a person. Think about how you train a dog—you use signals, tone, repetition. That’s the kind of interaction I’m interested in enabling between humans and robots. Less about control, more about relationship.“In robotics, I explore how a system can learn from interaction. In dance, I do that with my body.”
