Dika+Lija
Same Shit (?) Different Day (?), 2026
Variable dimensions; two-part site-responsive performance relic, installed across two spatially separated locations within the gallery; approximately 26 min.
Notes for collector
The work is sold as a unique, non-edition work. It includes two stainless steel tissue holders, two acrylic cases, one master video file, one stainless steel stapler, and four red rubber stamps as artefacts of the performance. The digital display device and the personal belongings borrowed from visitors are not part of the work.
The artists may be open to reactivating the performance for the collector at a location of their choosing.
Notes for collector
The work is sold as a unique, non-edition work. It includes two stainless steel tissue holders, two acrylic cases, one master video file, one stainless steel stapler, and four red rubber stamps as artefacts of the performance. The digital display device and the personal belongings borrowed from visitors are not part of the work.
The artists may be open to reactivating the performance for the collector at a location of their choosing.
Participatory performance involving two rolls of toilet tissue paper, personal belongings temporarily borrowed from visitors, a stainless steel stapler, four red rubber stamps, two body cameras; presented through two stainless steel tissue holders, two acrylic cases, a digital display device, and the resulting 26:17 min video documentation.
The work takes form as a site-specific response to Wisma BNI 46, where ISA Gallery resides: an office building in which workers tap in and out in extreme synchronicity and...
The work takes form as a site-specific response to Wisma BNI 46, where ISA Gallery resides: an office building in which workers tap in and out in extreme synchronicity and absurd urgency.
The things we do from 9 to 5, from Monday to Friday, everyday except weekends and Public Holidays are repetitive, menial, futile, and numbingly mundane. These days are made up of tiny acts that repeat over and over, which honestly can seem rather insignificant. Yet acts accumulate and leave residues, even when we are just floating through life. And then suddenly we’re 59 - the age of supposed retirement. Whatever that means now, in this economy. But, there is also always room for interruption, gestures that are deemed unnecessary, and doing things just because you can.
Through the continuous spooling and unspooling of toilet tissue paper, we look at what happens when something continues without anyone being truly aware of it. Nobody has to, yet somebody keeps on doing it.
The tissue is handled, stamped with approvals and rejections, torn, and stapled back together; introducing gestures of approval, revision, and rejection alongside the repetitive work of consistency/futility. The performance also involves borrowing and exchanging personal belongings and clothing with visitors, bringing strangers into a temporary negotiation with one another. It considers the different forms of work: office work, freelance work, and how even the wealthiest of us still have a boss - their clients.
On the day of the performance, everyone in the room was also a worker of some kind, be it artists, collectors, visitors, or cultural workers; each moving through their own arrangements of labour, obligation, and exchange. For a moment, the distinctions between who makes, who commissions, who collects, who facilitates, and who consumes become a little messier.
The things we do from 9 to 5, from Monday to Friday, everyday except weekends and Public Holidays are repetitive, menial, futile, and numbingly mundane. These days are made up of tiny acts that repeat over and over, which honestly can seem rather insignificant. Yet acts accumulate and leave residues, even when we are just floating through life. And then suddenly we’re 59 - the age of supposed retirement. Whatever that means now, in this economy. But, there is also always room for interruption, gestures that are deemed unnecessary, and doing things just because you can.
Through the continuous spooling and unspooling of toilet tissue paper, we look at what happens when something continues without anyone being truly aware of it. Nobody has to, yet somebody keeps on doing it.
The tissue is handled, stamped with approvals and rejections, torn, and stapled back together; introducing gestures of approval, revision, and rejection alongside the repetitive work of consistency/futility. The performance also involves borrowing and exchanging personal belongings and clothing with visitors, bringing strangers into a temporary negotiation with one another. It considers the different forms of work: office work, freelance work, and how even the wealthiest of us still have a boss - their clients.
On the day of the performance, everyone in the room was also a worker of some kind, be it artists, collectors, visitors, or cultural workers; each moving through their own arrangements of labour, obligation, and exchange. For a moment, the distinctions between who makes, who commissions, who collects, who facilitates, and who consumes become a little messier.
