The Emergence of Here

‘We were composed of 靈(ling)¹ of all kinds. 靈 of sky, ocean, land, forest and the 靈 of memory. How we treat the ocean is reflected in the ocean part of us, when we damage the land, the land part of us is affected. Once we die, all the different 靈 in our bodies return to their origins of sky, ocean, land and forest. Except the 靈 of memory. They travel to the White Island not far from Orchid Island. The island where all the 靈 of human memories stay. Which we are asked not to disturb.’—a story told by Si Javitong of the indigenous Tao people in Iraralay Village, Orchid Island, Taiwan in 2020.

The seed of Here, a nut falls twice was found in 2020 on the shore of Orchid Island in Taiwan. An island where I encountered spirit and spirits who brought me memories that have been kept in ocean dreams, washing up to the surface of consciousness wave by wave. Once, in their dream, two of them saw me sleeping in a membrane capsule underwater, like the eggs of an ovoviviparous animal. Since then, the wish to learn and revisit ocean memories has spawned various collective dreaming experiments. Slowly, the circle of participants expanded into the collective falling here together... 

After the third collective dreamscape listening workshop, early in the evening, a participant took me to an abandoned greenhouse he had dreamt of. On the way back, I met a dragonfly.

The dragonfly climbed onto my left hand, refusing to leave. We cooked together, had dinner together, had a phone call together, went to the bathroom together, sat next to fire together, watched stars together, made a drawing together. They rested curved against the shape of my left hand, finding comfortable postures throughout the evening. Late at night, we had a long walk by the river. I was walking on my feet, they were walking on my hand. I could feel their little hands held tighter when I walked slightly too fast, as their wings were catching winds. I have no clue at all why they insisted on staying on my hand. 

We went to sleep together. 

They lay on my left hand, my body resting on the left side with my head laying on my left arm. During the night, we fell in and out of sleep, into dreams and each other’s eyes. Before dawn, I started slowly noticing their life gradually leaving their dragonfly shell. The moment at which the dragonfly’s life left entirely was ambiguous, it felt like a slow, gradual, infinite and non-linear process. This was the third time I was closely and intimately holding a physical body fading into death in my bed. 

The dragonfly visited again in October 2022 during a week-long collective dreamscape listening workshop at Performing Arts Forum (PAF) in France, which was the rehearsal for the overnight performance at the ICA (Institute of Contemporary Arts, London) later in the winter. In August 2023, the dragonfly returned on the day of another dreamscape listening workshop near Angermünde in Germany.

Accompanied by spirit and spirits of the dragonfly, Here became a sculptural sound installation at the ICA from the dusk of 27 November to the dawn of 4 December 2022. 

At the dusk of 27 November, Lou Drago and I activated the installation with a sound performance, Here, a nut falls twice: Absence Here, a whispering of ambient stories and a dripping of memories from our ancestors. From the midnight of 3 December until the next morning, audiences were invited to sleep in the installation. The night Here, a nut falls twice: Drift(in)between featured live performances by artists Lithic Alliance. Marijn Degenaar, Lou Drago, Cee Füllemann, Tzuni Huang, oxi peng, Felix Riemann a.k.a leslie, Berglind Thrastardóttir, Matilda Tjäder and myself. During the eight hours, we traversed imaginary landscapes of inaudible frequencies, sleep-inducing rhythms, dream echoes, a lullaby of nightmares, shimmers of darkness, nocturnal wanders, and bedtime tales. The installation and performances were illuminated by Charlie Hope’s lighting design, set on a floor installation that held us softly by Cee Füllemann, and interspersed with dramaturgical and text sparkles by oxi peng. Most importantly, Here would not have born without the generous invitation and trust of Sara Sassanelli, production help by Natasha Chubbuck, sound and love support from Gediminas Žygus, encounters with Si Javitong, Min Jou Lee and Hanbao Lin on Orchid Island, fabrication support from Luke Felstead, and the ICA’s technician team: Patrick Brett, Nicky Drain, Francesca Penty, Ben Moon, Michele Bianchin and Cam Deas.

There, the dragonfly appeared in the absence. 

This publication, Echoes Under the Pillow, is a little journey back to the installation, performances, and bedtime stories that invite you to fall asleep freely. This publication was brought to life through Marijn Degenaar’s website design and Dylan Spencer-Davidson’s kind and inspiring editorial support. 

Including text contributions by those who were part of the collective falling and dreaming: 

• Lithic Alliance
• Jared Davis
• Marijn Degenaar
• Lou Drago
• Cee Füllemann
• Yen Chun Lin
• Louis Mason
• Sara Sassanelli
• oxi peng
• Felix Riemann a.k.a leslie
• Berglind Thrastardóttir 
• Matilda Tjäder

Here, a nut falls twice is wishing, learning and practicing to be a place that gently holds the fall. A place of holding collective dreaming and falling through listening experience. It was a place gratefully composed of and by the trust of every contributor, every participant, every being, every material that was part of the journey. It was and is still a trust cocoon that holds imagination, darkness, dream, risk, failure, transformation, experiment, friendship, and love. 

We finally met
Right before you leave againRight before you leave again

dive again into the world beneathdive again into the world beneath

At a thin time-space between life and death