Jihyun PARK
(Gayageum player)
Imagine holding an egg in both hands
Right hand, then left hand
Press the tip of the second knuckle of your right hand against the string.
Feel the silk thread's twist and your fingerprints mesh like gears.
Grip the string and pluck it. Then pluck it again. Pluck it.
When heat rises to your fingertips, blisters form.
Pluck again. Pluck again.
The blisters burst, hot liquid spilling out.
Keep plucking and plucking.
The flesh dies and hardens.
It becomes calloused skin.
I press the strings with my left hand's second and third fingers.
The length of the string stretches between my fingertips.
I press again. I shake. I press and shake again.
The length of the string becomes clear.
My fingertips harden.
Calluses have formed.
Like layers of skin piled one upon another,
traces of solid time are imprinted on my hands.
When I gaze at these marks, the time passed reveals itself.
The air in the dawn practice room, the moments repeating the same note dozens, hundreds of times, the worn-out strings—
All of it remains at my fingertips.
Countless invisible moments gather to become music.
And I continue walking through the repetition of that time.
Countless invisible moments gather to become music.
And I continue walking through the repetition of that time.
Haerang CHA
(Geomungo player)
Worker,
Lay down your tools for a moment,
With friends as stubborn as iron,
Unburden your heart.
Brothers now faded from memory,
Brothers clinging to the roots of old trees—
There is much to say about them.
Warmly entwined beneath the old tree,
Feeding on the sweet milk dripping from milky star clusters,
The shadows of snakes, longing to sing songs of comfort,
Slither away in the dreams of fearful children,
But when the heavenly cow brings her abundant,
Warm gifts,
They turn blue, then fade away.
I brought the bird. It was what you wanted.
I want to speak honestly, for it is what you desire.
Everything touched by my hand
is now in your grasp.
What they hide from you,
I will now tell you.
Attila József <O Workers>
Gowoon LEE
(Dancer)
For the performance in
Andorra 11th Nov.
Rome 18th Nov.
Paris 21st Nov.
Thonon les Bains 25th Nov.
Brussel (2nd show) 29th Nov.
For Sitting in a park filled with green, I watch the sun slowly setting and the leaves glistening.
A child kicking a ball clumsily yet energetically,
people walking hand in hand affectionately,
even the slightly lonely-looking backs feel beautiful.
Walking slowly through the trees while listening to my favorite music. In this moment, everything feels sufficient.
Gazing quietly at the trees swaying in the wind. Walking slowly through the trees.
Gazing quietly at the trees swaying in the wind.
Saeryoung CHOO
(Dancer)
For the performance in
Bari 15th Nov.
Brussel (2nd show) 29th Nov.
Prague 2nd Dec.
My father sculpted in his youth.
Carving stone and clay, he shaped the world with his fingertips.
When I was born and our family grew, he laid down his chisel and took up work he did not desire.
For thirty years, he set aside his own path to build my world.
I am a small flower that bloomed within those long years of his journey.
My dance holds my father's sweat, tears, and joy. Today, I dance so that flower may bloom even more beautifully.