unruly bodies do not frighten me anymore
In 2018, Sonia Kwek and ila embarked on a spontaneous collaboration for an open call by Rebel Daughters in 2018, as part of International Women’s Day with the aim of “filling up the public sphere, physical and virtual, with works of art done by female creatives from or based in the region”. Using red thread as a departure point, a metaphor for predestined connections for kindred spirits to find each other through different lifetimes. Over the years, both Sonia and ila have collaborated in three different iterations of this project, examining the politics of the body in society. Through email exchanges, they ruminate their experiences in working collaboratively and the kinship that has blossomed and grown over the years
/ Article by ila and Sonia Kwek
1
hello my dearest nia,
I've been thinking that this March, on International Women's Day, would be four years since the first iteration of Red Thread. I strangely remember parts of it vividly, how I followed that strong impulse to text you and say let's do something just days before @therebeldaughters open call deadline and how you too, jumped on it, both of us completely undeterred by how clueless we were about what we wanted to do. And then I remember how fast it flowed; awkward bodies framing ourselves into each other, at my house with Inaya crawling about and how embarrassed I felt to be half naked around you. Flimsy wooden clothes pegs and red rope, tiptoe-ing to reach around poles and fences without getting caught. Do you still remember the thrill that we felt after we were done? My heart was racing so fast that I was wide awake and for days I walked the streets to see how long these photographs of our bodies were there, anonymously naked and fearless.
Red Thread (2018): Three photographs of obscured body with red rope hung between two pipes with the same rope and wooden clothes pegs in an alleyway along Rowell Road.
Oh nia, such immense gratitude I felt after that night to have an acquaintance wanting to entertain my nonsense and matching it with your own kind of weirdness and slowly our friendship grew between our tangled limbs and sweaty bodies, under tarps and heat, in the sea and a lo-fi photo-booth. You told me about the neutral body, un-gendered and amorphous, and I feel your body forming shapes in mine. Roxane Gay, responding to Hanne Blank’s Unruly Appetites wrote: The bodies harbouring our unruly appetites are unruly in and of themselves — they are as weak and fallible as they are strong. In many ways, our bodies are completely unknowable, but oh, how we try to master our unruly bodies, nonetheless. And I think of my own unruly body fast asleep against yours, not necessarily mastering over the unruliness but getting to know these unknowable shapes, of bodies, marks and desires.
A visitor looking at the different photographs of body parts that are attached with the stories behind them contributed by participants in the booth.
Different visitors at the exhibition of Red Thread (2019) at The Substation’s SAD BAR.
An inside view of the booth, that was placed in the alleyway of Armenian Street for two weeks. The booth is painted to look like flesh and there is a seat that is covered with red cloth.
I’ve always loved how you'd push me a little bit more and the second iteration, I acted on your impulse to think about nudity and the public. In that booth sat many others, some we probably might never meet again. I felt my body waking up moving into clusters of other unruly bodies. There are so many other ways in which we can think about ourselves, through their stories and their bodies. Sonia, do you sometimes wonder whether our bodies pressed onto theirs as well and we are softly marked by each other?
Thinking back about the notions of collaborations and camaraderie (that was the brief), my mind went immediately to this maybe because of how this friendship has grown so rich, beyond the art into something pretty special but a big giant thanks to the art? Hahah I don't know if I am making sense. Do you feel changed by this as much as I do and if so how… Would love to hear from you, boo.
Keep open and stay close,
ila
2
dear ila,
i could never forget the thrill of what happened! how excited i felt when you reached out to me and talked about bodies as landscape, how a spark ignited in me when you invited me to do this with you in just a few days, how everything clicked within that this is as simple and powerful as it gets - we just had to do this, and so we were going to do it.
Process shot of Red Thread (2018): Scattered A5 sized photographs of various ambiguous body on a table with a cropped hand of a person writing quotes at the back of one of them.
i felt a deep sense of kinship when you invited me to your house, to share a slice of your life, your world in an intimate way. how we laid on each other exploring ways to stack and intertwine our bodies limbs fingers toes, how you freely trusted me with your camera and we switched simultaneously between seeing each other and being seen. later at the prata shop when we sat together quietly just writing all these immense quotes from great women at the back of our photographs. shared moments of time. later not just with our selves but with so many others as well. yes, i definitely feel we are all now marked by our exchanges. we marked ourselves into each other, in these small and infinite ways.
i feel very grateful for the precious friendship that has grown. i think it’s true that sometimes friends can’t work together. yet maybe because we made work first, and then the friendship blossomed; maybe because we both leaped together from the start, and trusted the other to follow; maybe because we had shared something so deeply personal when we were making together, and then still held each other after - beholding each other in all our unruliness.
Outtakes of nudes.jpg (2021): Two bodies holding each other in a tight shot in which only the hands, shoulder and knee are visible.
i think that’s a lot of what collaboration is about: holding. holding space. holding each other accountable. holding ourselves, and others, up. some days have been tough and we falter, but it is easier to continue when there is another person to laugh, cry and fight with together. i actually think it’s really important to know how to fight too, to know where each other stands and to question why. but when you question, i never feel it is because you doubt me as a person. when i approached you with the idea of the red thread booth for people to take their naked selves and share their body stories anonymously, you never made me feel i was crazy or stupid. and you continued to keep questioning along the way, to remind us not to lose sight of where we came from, to think and feel deeply about how we are doing things, to not take for granted why we do it. and always - always - with kindness. that’s really important. your compassion gives me courage to believe in more.
wow i realised we haven’t ever really reflected on this together! i’m curious to know how we can continue to witness each other grow and change. recently i feel like i can identify with a snake moulting. i read that snakes shed their skin by rubbing against a hard surface, like against a rock or a tree. i think this friction is very interesting, and necessary - in collaborations too. what do you think?
much love,
sonia
3
dearest Nia,
That image of the moulting snake rubbing itself against a hard surface to shed its old skin seemed to remain quite vividly in my mind long after I read your email. It's a perfect way to describe collaborations too, especially the discomforts one may feel trying to find different ways of merging minds and bodies without compromising too much of ourselves and like in this case for me, only realising how much I've been changed by our collaboration only after having distance. Maybe the snake was never aware of this shedding and I am so glad that you, in this moment, are going on your own moult processes.
Promo image for the nudes.jpg (2021) digital exhibition for N.O.W. Festival 2021: Two bodies wrapped in red cloth standing in front of a white background in a loose embrace.
I love how you've mentioned about holding each other and I think of all the others that have contributed to this project of ours. I felt greatly humbled by how many bodies participated in the booth and how open everyone was to have their bodies and their personal stories presented once again last year for N.O.W festival. I think a lot about ownership when I am making similar participatory works in which there are contributions from the public and I think too about this notion of holding space as well as the ethics of collaboration. How do I give credit to people when they remain anonymous parties in the work itself and how do you ensure that there is care wrapped around these stories and contributions?
One of the contributions submitted for the nudes.jpg (2021) digital exhibition for N.O.W. Festival 2021: Ambiguous body part against a neon pink backdrop with a quote “give yourself permission to feel pleasure again”
When we were readying the experience in the second and third iterations of the project, I remember how much we challenged ourselves to rethink these notions of ownership, safety and what I felt centred strongly around the spaces we've created together and held, both loosely and closely, is attentiveness that I've never really explored in other collaborations. We took our time to listen to each other even though at times it seems tenuous and difficult. The ability to remain open as we both find the words, rhythms, ourselves and each other has been the relishing parts of this project for me. Thank you for walking this through and with me and as we continue undressing ourselves, I hope it remains generative for us. Thank you once again for being my dearest collaborator.
keep open and stay close,
ila
4
dear ila,
i’ve been thinking about how you mentioned you have realised in retrospect how much you have been changed by our collaboration. i hadn’t ever really thought about the effect on one’s self so much, i have a tendency to think about collaboration more in terms of what is being made between the people involved. now i'm realising maybe i don’t have to fixate so much on the birthing of something from coming together, but to frame it as a way for the self to strip away what is unnecessary too. as you mentioned, it’s important that this is not about compromising yourself, it’s not shrinking. rather, a shedding of what no longer serves you; a release of certain old ways that were self-binding; a clearing to let in something new - towards transformation of the self.
i still hold onto the idea of the red thread of fate, that those who are bound to meet in this life will meet (not just lovers!). i’d like to believe that whoever came to Red Thread was meant to, that it was inevitable, and i’m extremely heartened always for our paths intersecting, even if briefly. Red Thread deeply impacted upon me to really, really be attentive: committing to care for each other, checking in, remembering that everyone is on their own rhythms.
Landing page for the nudes.jpg (2021) N.O.W. Festival 2021 website: Two bodies, wrapped in red cloth, seated facing each other in an embrace that looks like the infinity loop.
In fleshing out the third iteration for N.O.W., it felt very special to reach out and reconnect with past participants who had previously joined us at the second iteration at The Substation. to see how Red Thread, ourselves and some of the people who have contributed continue to grow with it too. i’m grateful for the long-term collaboration energy that has emerged. that there is the passing of time which allows for relations to grow, to pause, to leave, to return, to settle. it takes the time it takes. then the red thread can stretch and even tangle, but never break.
thank you for opening up this space for dialogue. i believe that dialogue is at the heart of what collaboration is about. i am reminded of how Paolo Freire wrote about dialogue in his book ‘Pedagogy of the Oppressed’: “Dialogue cannot exist, however, in the absence of a profound love for the world and for people. The naming of the world, which is an act of creation and re-creation, is not possible if it is not infused with love… As an act of bravery, love cannot be sentimental; as an act of freedom, it must not serve as a pretext for manipulation. It must generate other acts of freedom; otherwise, it is not love. Only by abolishing the situation of oppression is it possible to restore the love which that situation made impossible. If I do not love the world—if I do not love life—if I do not love people—I cannot enter into dialogue.”
i hope we remain in constant dialogue, my dear friend. within ourselves, between us, with others. as how you often sign off - to keep open and stay close. i really love that. thank you for being a constant. looking forward to hang out soon :)
big love,
sonia