Artist-led workshops as part of

Standby,

the light wavers

WITH YOOJIN LEE

Free

Open to all

No previous experience or knowledge required

Please feel free to join more than one

Dates:

Thursday 10th November, 6.15-8pm, HOM

Thursday 24th November, 6.15-8pm, HOM

Thursday 1st December, 6.15-8pm, SEAGER

Thursday 8th December, 6.15-8pm, SEAGER

About:

What does a sleeping body-being become against the backdrop of a world that is lit 24 hours? What does this state of repose mean when there is no time to pause? What lullaby can we sing for another? How do we fall asleep (together)? How do we fall (together)? What and who is falling (with or without us)?

Moving nearby these questions, we will explore falling(s) through our own and one another’s bodies. We will be accompanied by I like to stay horizontal, a series of digital printed pillows. We will be guided by the pillow-bodies, our bodies and the multiplicity of bodies that we share the space with.

Some of the places we may find ourselves in: light / darkness, verticality / horizontality, activity / inactivity, visibility / invisibility, intensities of slowness, mutual support, tender vigilance and safe surfaces. There will be a particular attention to what is in-between and disrupts these given notions or categories and how they are embodied.

We will write and gather texts that emerge from our time together. These will be woven into Nite Gestures 10-11-2022-10-12-2022, an installation of LED text displays, which will illuminate fragments of the texts that slowly become denser over the course of the workshops and the exhibition. All contributors, unless they prefer to be anonymous, will be credited in the presentation and documentation of the process.

Bio:

Yoojin Lee was born in Seoul and sleeps in London. She works across and in-between performance, sound, text, installation and video to embody ways of becoming and knowing through care, resistance and multiple temporalities. Her work engages with conditions of (in)activity and (un)productivity; particularly by thinking/feeling through sleep, sloth and slowness. How can sleep and a sleeping body become a site of quiet resistance? How can slow, symbiotic tenderness disrupt the timescape of linear and constant output?