‘It is, in itself, a feminist act for a woman to stand on stage and be heard’

In 2023, the then 23-year-old won the Olten cabaret talent show with her first full-length solo programme. And three years later – next Wednesday, to be precise – she will perform it for the very last time at the Casinotheater in Winterthur. ‘Why You Might Still Be Alive Tomorrow’ is a mix of comedy, slam poetry, cabaret and drama, and an invitation to take a look back at the first quarter of Julia Steiner’s life alongside her. To put it in her own words: ‘Life is today. And perhaps – but only perhaps, if the timing’s right – life will still be here tomorrow. But I’ll decide that tomorrow morning.”

Julia, how funny do you think you are?

6.4 out of 10.

Being funny is your job. How did you come up with that idea?

It was actually the other way round – the idea came to me. I started out with slam poetry and realised that people found not only my texts funny, but above all my interludes between poems. Because there’s a lack of women on the Swiss comedy scene, I was then encouraged to take part in ‘SRF 3 Best Talent Comedy’. Unfortunately, I’m very competitive and a big fan of competitions, so of course I took part (… and won, editor’s note.). I honestly don’t know if I’d be on the comedy stage today without that competition.

Being quick-witted in the moment – I can do that. But how do you become deliberately funny?

I think quick-wittedness is a good foundation, but one that can only be learnt to a limited extent. And then: watch 700 Netflix specials, fill your feed with stand-up and try to spot patterns. After that, head to an open mic, tell a story, fail 500 times and later recreate the moments when people laugh. At least, that’s how you’re supposed to do it. Personally, I find spontaneous open mics a nightmare and take a more natural approach. But then again, I don’t do pure comedy.

How do you write and rehearse a show where you’re on stage all by yourself?

The approaches vary wildly. I wrote ‘Why You Might Still Be Alive Tomorrow’ like a play, had everything ready a year in advance, and then met with a director to work on the staging. There are also people who write everything the night before and then are simply funny on stage. For my second solo show, which premieres in April, I’ll probably take a different approach. Because – so far, I’ve got nothing. (laughs)

How does it feel to say goodbye to your first ‘baby’ after two and a half years and countless performances?

I’m very ambivalent about it. On the one hand, letting go is difficult because the play is so close to my life and I feel and love every line so much. On the other hand, it’s time. I’m no longer the same person I was back then and I can’t even stand some of the jokes myself anymore.

What is ‘Why You Might Still Be Alive Tomorrow’ about?

It’s actually quite simply my life story. I’ve experienced some terrible setbacks and am now trying to tell the story in a humorous way. I take the audience on a journey through my story and, ideally, encourage them to reflect on it. I want people to leave feeling that, despite everything, life is worth living.

You speak openly about your mental health issues, both on Instagram and on stage. Do you become funnier when you’re sometimes very sad?

A million per cent. I don’t know a single truly funny person who didn’t have a bit of a weird childhood or something like that. I feel it helps not to take yourself too seriously; it’s also a coping strategy. And: people who’ve been through things are simply people who have stories to tell.

Your show also tackles other negative topics such as fears and loss. How does that fit in with the art form of comedy?

Without comedy, these topics are just incredibly sad – nobody wants to hear that. But everyone has to deal with these issues, and humour can help us approach them differently.

Anyone who knows you is aware that your work also touches on feminism and social criticism. That always carries the risk of coming across as preachy: How do you manage to make the audience laugh first, only for them to realise on their way home that they’ve just been politically educated?

There are no direct political statements in my show. But simply standing on stage as a woman and being heard is, in itself, a feminist act. That’s what my colleague Jane Mumford once told me when I was doubting myself and thought I wasn’t taking a strong enough stand. My very existence and story make people think anyway; I don’t need to be pushy at all. I reckon anyway: if we all felt more empathy for one another and put ourselves in other people’s shoes more often, the world would be a better place.

How do you cope when the audience doesn’t laugh?

The good thing is that I don’t define my solo show as stand-up comedy, because then it would be much worse. There are lots of quiet moments in my piece, and even if I expect a laugh and it doesn’t come, it’s still art. In traditional comedy, that’s ‘oh, it’s so bitter’ – in this context, I do sometimes find myself having a good cry in the shower in the evening. But you learn to deal with it. Nowadays, I can see it as a challenge and try, on the spur of the moment, to win them over after all. Then it becomes a game.

Can you tell me your favourite joke?

Every few weeks I save another Reel, because I know this question is going to come up a hundred more times. My shows don’t rely on one-liners, so here’s a joke by Dominik Muheim: ‘Two dinosaurs are smoking weed when Noah’s Ark sails past, and one says to the other: “Oh shit! That would’ve been it for us today!”’

Why you might still be alive tomorrow
18 November 2026 at 8 pm at the Casinotheater Winterthur

Julia Steiner is a Swiss comedian, cabaret artist, poetry slammer and presenter. She is 26 years old and made her first poetry slam appearance four and a half years ago. Shortly afterwards, she became a finalist in the German-language Poetry Slam Championships in Vienna, won the Zurich Poetry Slam and triumphed at the Olten cabaret talent show. In 2024, she won the Swiss Comedy Award in the SRF 3 Best Talent Comedy category. She is praised in the press for her sharp wit and her observations on everyday life.