10, 11, 13, 14th of March

Ongoing installation
17:30-close

Performance
18:00-18:45

Sam will share her research through various performative set-ups and installations, connecting to different spaces, modes of spectatorship and temporalities.

Refusals to say goodbye

1.
A camera in front of me, a second next to me, a third diagonally behind me. My reflection is
being captured. I turn around to see the image, but I too turn around, and again, my face
hides itself from view. In traffic we use mirrors in order to look around a corner to avoid ending up in a collision.

2.
I look out of the window and I see the clouds have finally opened up. Sunlight is beaming
graphic shapes through the kitchen and I head over to the stairwell in the far right corner. It’s
early January and the sun is too low to reach over the surrounding buildings. The stairwell, unlike the kitchen, is washed in a soft diffused haze.

3. 
While I struggle to put away my receipt, my analogue film roll still on the counter, an old man next to me asks if they might be interested in darkroom equipment. The shop owner shrugs—they only do digital—then points to me.

When tuning a radio, we are navigating noise, trying to find something we can potentially recognise: a word, a melody, a rhythm. I have no interest in eliminating the noise. I’m interested in the act of tuning itself, the act of orientation amidst the chaos we experience.

I have had the privilege of joining Sam's research since her first year at DAS Theatre. Reflecting on my experience of her work, a metaphor of a ship came to mind. It’s a ship that has lost its orientation. Its celestial navigation is obscured by LED lights, the needle of its compass in constant motion as it tries to align itself with Earth's magnetic field. Stranded in a liminal space, it seeks to find ground - grasping at the meaning of its surroundings: passing shadows, sunbeams, other people's gazes, another body’s breath, the moving landscape.

In Sam’s work, we encounter apparatuses composed of live performers and objects moving as one. They follow a set choreography, operating with machine-like precision. Yet, unlike typical machines bound by fixed, step-by-step logic, Sam’s apparatuses gather information from their surroundings, acknowledging their connection to the universe. As an audience, we do not encounter closed systems; environmental inputs shape and influence their functioning. Through technological capabilities like amplification and zooming, familiar spaces - classrooms or corridors - gain a new light, transformed by the lens of this apparatus. One could imagine it being placed in other contexts: a forest, a construction site, a courtroom. Wherever it resides, it invites us to reflect on the relationships between the
visual, the virtual, and the visible.

The research opens a conversation between early photography and today’s computational, digital photography. It navigates the contrast between photography as a material-based chemical process tied to nature known as “sun drawings” *, and contemporary photography, dominated by self-representation and the social sphere. Hagi Kenaan writes in Photography and its Shadow (a book that had a substantial role in conversations between Sam and I) that the desire to take a picture from the present moment reflects our difficulty to fully inhabit the now. This reveals a fragile relationship with the fleeting nature of the present, where impermanence defines existence.

Today, photography saturates our lives, shaping how we see ourselves, others, and the world. Despite its ubiquity, it remains elusive, challenging us to fully understand its role. Sam’s work offers a contemplative space to examine the habitual ways we mediate reality through mirrors, lenses, and pixels. It draws attention to the tension between the digitally mediated world and the tangible, physical reality surrounding us, asking us to consider how our bodies respond to competing forms of attention.

Time plays an active role in Sam’s work, unfolding through a poetic language that encourages patience. In a world of short attention spans, social media and dopamine-fueled distractions, the work invites us to slow down and stay present for its duration, fostering collective awareness. It is meticulously structured yet expansive, allowing room for daydreaming and reflection. Within moments of stillness, as boredom stretches, the performance frames our drifting thoughts, creating an interplay between images appearing in our own minds and the unfolding performance collectively shared.

I would like to conclude this text with a question: 
When we perceive Sam interacting with Sunlight, is she attempting to capture the beam? Is she drawing a forensic body outline, analyzing its passing? Is she creating a memorial site for fleeting shadows? Or perhaps performing a practice aimed at embracing change and the struggles it brings?
 

*Terms coined by Willian Henry Fox Talbot in his book The Pencil of Nature

By: Sam Scheuermann
In collaboration with: Elliot Dehaspe, Koen van der Heijden, Sojeong Lee and Peteris Viksna
Sound: Robbi Meertens
External advisors: Lotte van den Berg and Tchelet Pearl Weisstub
Tutor: Miguel Melgares
Supported by / Special thanks to: Zhana Ivanova, Hearin Jeong, Mahsa Koochak, Kees de Wilde, tutors, staff and peers