Maayan Boni
Israel
A sound installation revealing the silent inner voices that echo back at us. I am creating an archive of consciousness, diving for pearls, gazing inwards and documenting the images and the gaze itself. In an ongoing process which started with Corona, I invite people to remember what they never thought worth remembering. Mostly through words, they translate their inner abstractions and share an intimate moment.
I looked into an apartment on the street level. I was told they are called "vacchi" in Naples. A mother and her daughter, were just eating lunch using disposable plastic plates, which reminded me of some houses in Israel.
Leopoldo, one of the artists in the program, had agreed to join me on this wandering and translate to Italian. We only met a few days before but like every interaction between the artists in this residency, the circumstance were unique, in this case, our first conversation was on a boat back to Naples, from the journey Samina had created for us to the island of Procida.
I peeked through the women's window and started a conversation. Performance art had taught me how to interact casually with people I don't know, but not this time. In Naples it seems like the line between the private space and the public space is not a clear one. You walk very closely to everyone's laundry, you hear the fights from the windows, you share the sidewalk with the drivers, but there are a few chairs on the street, chained to the ground with a graffiti saying- "private".
"This is Maayan, an artist from Israel", he translated to Italian, "she would like to spend a quiet moment with you in which you close your eyes and are present with yourself. She wants you to go into your inner space and tell her what you see, what you feel". I told them that if they are still eating I can come back later but they gladly threw away the plates to the garbage and invited us in.
Mariana, the daughter, 16 year old, was first to close her eyes. She left me with her experience of a quiet black color she had seen inside herself. In that black silence, echoed the name of the boy she is in love with. I wondered if it was the first time her mother heard his name or if they usually are as close as they were in that moment.
When Rosaria, her mother closed her eyes, she instantly dived in. She shared with me her quietness and the beautiful sensations she experienced and how surprised she was to find this within herself. She inspired me in the way she was willing to jump straight into her heart and reminded me what art is for me:
A chance to meet yourself and others in a deep and unexpected way.
When I left this little room it was filled with warm intimacy.
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Another documentation of an inner meeting, in Naples was from the man we saw everyday on our way to the museum. He sat almost completely static, between his home and the street, gazing at nothing, smoking all the time. He did not close his eyes nor stopped smoking when I offered him to enter into his inner self. He was talking to me so sincerely, as if I was not there, as if he was just saying the words that were already talking inside him constantly, laying out his inner space, a space of memories and mourning. He was living in another time. A time before his brother died. They once mourned together for the loss of their mother.
*****
I arrived to Naples with some documentations of mediations and inner meetings that I had collected before. Some were of people who are experienced or have an everyday practiced of "meditation". Others with none. In either case, I did not give instructions of how to "meditate" but suggested chose their own interpretation.
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I did offer guidance for the documentation of the process:
Sit on a chair, or in any other way that feels comfortable.
Close your eyes and breathe. When you hear your inner voice translating itself into words- slowly and gently open your eyes and write it down. Then, slowly dive back in.
Like a whale, you dive in to the depth of yourself and once an experience is accumulated, you float up slowly and blow it out into words.
*****
After receiving beautiful texts, recordings and even a musical piece which is a meditation, I felt very committed to the project. It is probably a good thing normally but in a residency so rich in contents, encounters with incredible artists, new practices, and intense workshops – I also want to release everything. To surrender. To walk blindfolded in a labyrinth like journey; in a labyrinth like city. Lose all plans. Go down the rabbit hole.
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Even in wonderland, where everything seems to be crazy, the cat is saying to Alice:
"If you don't know where you are going any road will take you there".
Being in the wonder of wandering in the Rabbit Hole Samina had composed for us, was a journey you could experience in many ways. Any way you chose - either knowing where you are going or wandering around- you would arrive. We all arrived, magically ready to share our process with the outside. We had all shared an experience of acceptance and willingness to get lost together.
*****
In my process I arrived to a new and delicate dance between a commitment to a destination and willingness to include the unexpected- inn. Tension and expectations melted and I was inviting unexpected help, assistance, surprising collaborations and therefor new meaning, new contexts, new gaze.
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The art of remembering had been woven into the art of living.