2026
Playing sanjo every day, improvising with the same person every day, and eating meals at the same time—these things feel like tuning into the same frequency.
It’s a process of finding the perfect overtones. It’s like crafting an instrument.
And playing the gayageum feels like hearing the voice of someone familiar—that sensation of recognizing who it is the moment you hear it. The Fox and the Little Prince.
( ͡°( ͡° ͜ʖ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ʖ ͡°) ͡°) 〜(￣▽￣〜)
2021
This one-person performance project, which began with the planning of a small performance segment within an exhibition, has now entered its third year, having started in 2019. This website serves as an archive documenting the process of change and expansion that has taken place over the years as the project has faced various challenges.
“Flying Squirrel Haven” began out of a concern for environmental issues, with the goal of raising awareness about the “sunset clause” for urban parks. I was curious about what kind of sensory experience it would be to lie down in a natural space in the heart of the city, gaze at the sky, and listen to gayageum music.
Furthermore, the discomfort I felt as a female performer of traditional arts helped shape the format of the performance. To break free from the image expected of a female gayageum player, I designed the setup so that the audience would lie down facing the sky rather than looking at me; and to escape the culture of performances dominated by acquaintances, I held the events outdoors in a guerrilla-style format.
Meeting so many fellow artists while working on this project was the most meaningful and important experience for me. I hope that the many artists currently facing difficult times due to COVID-19 will be able to continue their work, and I hope that “Sky Squirrel Haven” will also become a sustainable project.
Playing sanjo every day, improvising with the same person every day, and eating meals at the same time—these things feel like tuning into the same frequency.
It’s a process of finding the perfect overtones. It’s like crafting an instrument.
And playing the gayageum feels like hearing the voice of someone familiar—that sensation of recognizing who it is the moment you hear it. The Fox and the Little Prince.
( ͡°( ͡° ͜ʖ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ʖ ͡°) ͡°) 〜(￣▽￣〜)
2021
This one-person performance project, which began with the planning of a small performance segment within an exhibition, has now entered its third year, having started in 2019. This website serves as an archive documenting the process of change and expansion that has taken place over the years as the project has faced various challenges.
“Flying Squirrel Haven” began out of a concern for environmental issues, with the goal of raising awareness about the “sunset clause” for urban parks. I was curious about what kind of sensory experience it would be to lie down in a natural space in the heart of the city, gaze at the sky, and listen to gayageum music.
Furthermore, the discomfort I felt as a female performer of traditional arts helped shape the format of the performance. To break free from the image expected of a female gayageum player, I designed the setup so that the audience would lie down facing the sky rather than looking at me; and to escape the culture of performances dominated by acquaintances, I held the events outdoors in a guerrilla-style format.
Meeting so many fellow artists while working on this project was the most meaningful and important experience for me. I hope that the many artists currently facing difficult times due to COVID-19 will be able to continue their work, and I hope that “Sky Squirrel Haven” will also become a sustainable project.