Just like for Ursula Le Guin and Virginia Woolf the hero of the story is not one single human subject,
but a container in its basic sense; the protagonist
of “The Space Between ( A BODY AND A BAG )” is not the human subject either, but the in-between that emerges between ( or within ) them .

    THE SCULPTURES
are physical embodiments of these in-between spaces. 
They are containers that have been sculpted, slowly, plastically. 
In the room, they take their place  — the negative shapes, the void of the in-between, is now visible, graspable and present. Just like “each giver is ( … ) a receiver, and each receiver is a giver” (‍Goffman ), the in-between is both a receiver and giver in one; hence also: a carrier, a vessel.
I consider a vessel as something that receives something else, carries / contains it and then relieves and shares it again: receiving  — containing  — releasing. Enabling new connections, opening up a new context within.
The in-between can be filled, it contains, it is a space of the act of sharing, of movement, of motion.
Additionally, in times of Covid, when this project was conceived, the sculptures also act as a reminder, a reminisence, of physical inter-action and in-between-ness when there couldn’t be any.
    THE SOUND
is filling up the room, sound waves being sent from different directions. Entering the bodies, filling up the containers. Coming from somewhere else, finding its way into recipients, being received. Sound as a capsule: having been recorded from somebody else, somewhere else, sometime else  — here, now: entering the systems of the people present. The vessels are being filled.
    THE BOOK,
“a thing between two covers” ( Levinas ) is carrying the text, the cosmos that has been created: 
what has been gathered. It’s a script; the contained has been carried and shared with others.
    THE TEXT
as a way of thinking, as expression, collection and connection. It’s an assemblage of different voices, of references, thoughts and feelings. I have accumulated written texts, rummaged through my notebooks, picked out sentences, stitched them together, gathered scoops, arranged and re-arranged fragments and over-threw them again many times.
It “is a process of scattering thought; scrambling terms, concepts, and practices; forging linkages”
(‍ Grosz ), “a circulation of texts.” ( Braidotti ).