Maybe there are some holes to make. I wonder how we are going to keep up with such a prolonged play—of sucking, rolling, waiting, carving, molding, piercing, burning, fabricating, knocking, peeping, grinding, tweeting, pressing, shooting and on and on. The actions are almost monotonous and repetitive, even though they are not. It’s like listening to music in the same cave for five days, and then all the songs become more or less the same. But it is a breakaway. 

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We keep talking; walls wrap up all sounds in one bag like a shell reverberates with memory of the ocean. Here you show me what you collect there—negative or positive space, I wonder. If there is a hole, then we can make an instrument, you say. If this hole is as speculated, perhaps it connects to somewhere infinite or void. If a hole is here, the Milky Way is not far away. 

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hOle, a five-day practice-based discursive event, sleeps and stands amongst conviction, speculation and imagination. It references to locality, the way we pin a place, or how to make a contact in between. Twelve practitioners will illustrate and enact such metaphor from their own practices, and you shall play along and experience a journey of holes that penetrate, project, reflect, extend, shift what connects and crosses geographies, generations and more. 

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You keep going till someone falls. O, another hOle.