Space of the Nameless designates my unrestricted approach to life as an art of intuition and relation. My body offers me a laboratory through which to explore what it means to live on this earth and to participate in the great enigma of constant change. In other words, my art is not a personal story or the play of a character; rather, body functions as material ecology, a vessel through which energetic states can become perceptible. There is more about this in my artist statement.
Transformation, transduction, and transmission refer to this continual movement of energy—its capacity to change state, to pass through different materials and bodies, and to reveal the texture of a form of (nonhuman) knowing at large. Scientific research confirms that energy never dies but changes state. This principle of perpetual energy—encountered in numerous wisdom traditions—guides my practice, and acts as a counterpoint to systems that enclose and commodify energy.
My works too flow as a continuum, and rather than falling into project or medium, they interpenetrate each other endlessly. The triad I propose of Tantra (embodied practice), Mantra (sonic exploration), and Yantra (visual scores and diagrams) is a way to orient the visitor through this multi-faceted approach. The point is to listen to your waters, guiding you in into the knowledge of energy's perpetual transformations.
The Mind Rave is an immersive experience created through dance, a live electronic soundscape, public participation and the interaction of various objects in space. The public is compelled to partake through objects that can be activated during the performance: cylindrical head pieces (carefully worn as ‘attention cocoons’), turquoise scented jelly (to be held in a handful) and broken mirrors (used to direct the light onto the performance stage). The experience generates a ritualistic and meditative space where the participants lose themselves in time. The impermanent installation galvanises a space of heightened yet soft haptic sensoriality, which can never be repeated a second time: each experience is unique to the specific iteration.
Giulia Casalini (curator)
“…it was a remembering but not in [an] easy woolly domestic way, [but] as in a remembering of the wild, terrifying and beautiful core of the universe, like a de-construction of everything that individuates - a calling to a home that is vast and unknowable.”
Sophie Hughes
(artist & curator)
[COLLAPSE, London] felt like such a privilege to witness that aching and beautiful act of collective grieving (which is one of the many wonderful things I think it felt like).
In amongst the collective there were all the very individual expressions of exhaustion and the vulnerability was sad, beautiful and made me feel angry and protective.
Collapse, yes but I also felt some comfort in the rest it promised after.
Passers by were very into it. A German tourist mum was suggesting to her children it was the “stress of the world” another guy was saying how sad it was (in a complimentary way) and another man who I think worked in the building was really delighted by it and kept exclaiming “Why not?!”
Nick Kaplony (artist)
