Guilty Memory: the re-collective

“When they say that there is a ‘correct’ collective memory
… is my body guilty for holding a piece of memory that deviates from it?
…or is my mind guilty for wanting to forget?
When citizens are forced to stand as defendants, and our memory becomes exhibit A in the court of history
…are we guilty as charged?”

Guilty Memory: the re-collective is a project that explores ways to collect and archive the embodied and emplaced memories endangered by censorship and surveillance. It lies at the intersection of personal truth and collective memory, investigating the subversive power of encryption, silence and poetics.

If the personal memory exists only in the synaptic connections between neurons, then perhaps the collective one only lives in the space between us? The core of the practice falls on the act of meeting and collecting. “The re-collective session” is a series of one-on-one performative encounters with invited participants in the diaspora, to bring forth certain memories that are being actively erased and systematically denied in the public realm. The encounter holds an ephemeral space for reconciliation and mourning, while allowing fiction and imagination to creep in the cracks of memory. In this accumulative and generative process, fragments of memory are recollected, moulded and documented through various media – object, sound, drawing, and narrative – into a growing archive of memories, senses and imaginations.

“…and just like that our bodies become an archive and we the archivists. It feels like a mission to do this job well. Collect it, make space for it, organize it, curate it, dust it, and practice providing access to it - be impactful but also be careful. Occasionally it means cutting yourself on the wound again just to keep the memory fresh.”

Notes on Master Presentation

This is an ongoing project of collecting, archiving and finding forms to share. For Master Presentation, I host a moment of sharing that takes the form between a performative gesture and a curated event - a glimpse into the personal journey, the research trajectory as well as a collective ritual of activating the archive.

Registered visitors will receive an individual email with info of the event. Please remember to check your inbox.

– Eva Lou

'Can you whisper it to me?' by Alice Pons

// I had the chance to become part of Eva's process and join the series of performative gestures she shared on the way - as a guest / as an advisor/ as an outsider / as a visitor / as a witness/ as a participant. The text below is written from this multiplicity of perspectives. Seeking to embrace and share with you the subtle layers and depth of her work so that it can unfold to you as generously as it did to me. //

Forbidden memories. Forgotten memories. An archive to remember.

Is it a space? A body? A moment? Can you whisper it to me? Am I allowed to remember? Can it be said? Can I touch it? Can I feel it too? With you.

A word. A smell. A sensation. Before it gets lost. To give it some sense again. To transcend
loneliness. To make it collective. To hear it from your hands. To sense it from my guts.

There is a room. I am just a guest. People have been here before. Their stories travelled through the fabrics I touch. Their voices are around. It smells familiar. Timeless.

It is urgent but soft. It doesn’t shout, it murmurs. It gently directs my gaze. It is loaded.

It brings me back to a place I might have encountered. A place I might still encounter.

People have been talking here. They shared some thoughts, sometimes buried ones. They gave them some colours. A body. Through the touch of their fingers. They traced it back. The rituals. The routines. What felt ordinary yet oppressing. The moment they laughed or cried. The despair at some point and the incapacity to share. The food they ate. How they showered. The window sight. The deemed light. The door. The trashcan. The long calls. The short walks. The loss of time. The count of time. Sleepless nights. The uncertainty. The fantasy. The disappointment. Where did they go?

It is like a fragmented poem that has been carefully assembled for us.

Us, ourselves, a fragmented group of people

coming with our different histories and expectations

to experience the history and expectation of others.

Can we be more than spectators? Are we witnesses? Can we carry part of each other's memories? Can we hold it with us for a moment?

Before we pass it on.

What if this space was a portal? A connective space.

Between the lived or imagined pasts

and their potential futures.

Between here and there.

Between you and me.

It is alive. It is moving. It keeps on growing. It keeps on breathing.

Beyond our time.

A collective body of work. Not a file nor an object.

A form of resistance.

Eva Lou

Eva Lou is an artist and creative facilitator, based in Amsterdam and Shanghai. She works through performances, workshops, social practices, and engages with curatorial models. Her works often arise from the mundane of everyday life - what is already there, but might be forgotten or out-of-spot-light. She uses art-as-process and searches for relationality and ways of being together.

Eva is a member of the Shanghai-based performance collective _ao_ao_ing ensemble (aoaoing.com)

Credits

project and research by: Eva Lou
artisticcollaborators: Cuixi Lin, Danteng Fang
installation design: pàn qi
tutor: Miguel Melgares
advisor: Alice Pons, Aiwen Yin
curatorial advise: Marta Keil
process support: Echo Guo, Chen Yin, Jingyan Dong, Xiao Chuyue, Mei Liu, Yvonne Jin
video documentation: Mei Liu
thank you to: Ran Chen, Kiva Liu, Rowan Blem, Mica Pan, Mingjou Chen, Jija Sohn, Samah Hijawi, Yee Ting Lau, Jimmy Grimma, Rei Xia, my mom, my therapist, _ao_ao_ing ensemble, DAS peers and all the anonymous and generous participants of the one-on-one session who opened up to the space and to me

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