Holding onto the memory, trying to fix it, make it clean again […]

Making it white again using dirty materiality.

Performance at the Dyson studio gallery, 2016.

 

Screening at the Gorvy Lecture Theater. RCAshow 2016, London, Uk

 

I Will Follow You. || Lychee One. 38-50 Pritchards Rd, E29BJ London, UK

 

 

 

 

The Other || London 2015

I was born in 1986. Died 2005. Resuscitated after 12 hours. My Mother born 1964 died in 2007. Grandmother 1934-2008. Grandfather 1931- 2009. I was left to stand in the world alone. Revisiting memories.

 

In this work, I delve into themes of loss, memory, and my connection to origins through a symbolic interaction with a white shirt and a tree. I begin by wrapping the shirt around the roots of a tree and watering it, allowing the earth to soak into the fabric. The tree represents my lost roots, while the shirt, absorbing the earth’s essence, embodies the deep yet severed connection to my past.

Once the shirt is marked by the soil, I pin it to my shoulders, facing backward, while I stand facing forward. The earth-stained shirt symbolizes the memories and heritage that have shaped me but remain behind me, out of direct view. By pinning it to my shoulders, I express the weight of these memories that I carry with me, even as I face the future.

This performance reflects on how we carry the past with us, how our roots continue to influence our lives, and the tension between holding onto memories and moving forward. It explores the lasting impact of loss and the complex relationship between memory, identity, and the places we come from.

Tree With No Land || 2015

Performance is just about to start. I am wondering alone outside and see this bog branch laying all alone on the ground. It is dead though it was a part of living three. I take the branch and start dragging to the studio. I am not sure yet what am I going to do with it. I am slowly dragging it and listening to the sound it makes. I am touching it and feeling how dry it is. I brought it to the studio and was trying to make it stand again. It was reaching the ceiling but it would stand on its own. I placed my body as a support. I am standing on tiptoes and trying to find the balance. The balance between what’s dead and lost and though is still alive and trying to stand, reach out and grow.

Three falls down.

I leave. I go outside again. I find a place near the academy where it used to be a three but now its just black soil. I stand there for a while but soon go look for a bucket to take this soil inside. I came back inside the space, put the three back to stand, place a black short on the ground and cover it with the pile of black soil in the middle and I go to stand in the bucket filled with water. I slice my fingers and let the blood drip on the floor, mix with water and flow in the space.

Three falls down.

I take the three gently and start cleaning it, covering with earth. I take my dirty white short and replace it with the black one. I put my head very close where the roots used to go deep into the ground and lay down beside.

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