I chose the day of an eclipse to commence my project “Waking Hours.” This celestial choreography of planetary scope was to herald in my far more humble choreography representing a man walking the Earth. I thought it poetic and hoped it would be auspicious as I embarked on an artistic exploration of movement through time and space.

I announced the inception of “Walking Hours” in the Spring 2015 issue of Le Merle. I proposed to do nothing more than walk a specific space — along the coast from the Dutch town of Scheveningen to Katwijk and back — at a time of day corresponding to conventional working hours. I wanted the parameters to be simple, an aspect frequently applied to my work as a practical and conceptual fundament. As an artist I seek to better understand my place in society within the framework of humanity’s place in the world, in this time. Both directly and indirectly, walking is a suitable conduit for this investigation.

The choice of the space was personal and practical as I have history in both towns and live in one of them, giving me easy access. In walking I hope to find something universal.To some degree we all walk and if we don’t, it can be argued that we long for it — the crawling baby, the wheelchair bound paraplegic, the elderly. This creates the potential for conversation or exchange with anybody I might encounter during the process of the work.

In walking, attentively, with engagement, I feel I come closer to how I literally want to walk the Earth. Embracing that I am a small factor, a mere cog in a great big wheel and that my best contribution is to be engaged in a conscious, positive manner. In my walking I know humility and embrace the small and the large. My intention is to approach any situation with openness and look people in the eye, prepared for conversation or a simple nod in acknowledgement of their presence. I feel it is the purest contribution I can make in an increasingly complex world where my powerlessness — a sensation shared with many — is paramount.

I believe in the artist as a renegade of society. Part of a small class of subversives who challenge the status quo — maintained by the established elites — in order to question the direction we collectively take. I therefore find it difficult to participate in the more conventional economy of art that expects the artist to become an entrepreneur and find value in the work based on its financial worth. It is for this reason that I like to take alternative choices in my artistic endeavors. I prefer the aesthetic gesture, the object of thought or the ephemeral expression to a process that leads to a tangible product.

It is not that I am against a physical result, I just prefer anything physical to flow naturally from a process rather than have it be the goal from the outset. I see it as a statement against the consumerism and obsessive need in our societies to saturate our lives with stuff, perpetuating a system of people working low-end jobs in order to earn the money they need to purchase what they make. It is a system that leaves a majority teetering on the brink of survival and a planet that is on the brink of being inhospitable to our species. So my walking is political. It is in that sense an act of resistance.

When the work is not necessarily about creating a tangible result it becomes challenging to consider how to communicate the work. Although initially happy to simply announce it and bookmark the project in Le Merle, I was pleased when the process uncovered different opportunities for communication.
I approach walking in a performative sense and prepare as a dancer might for a show subsequently entering within the physical boundaries of the walk much as if I step onto a stage. The walking itself is not particularly animated or acted, but rather resonates with its intention to be open and prepared to embrace what is experienced.This allows for interactions during the walk and, when not within the frame of “Walking Hours,” conversations with people who might be interested.

 

For Myung, The eclipse reveals itself briefly through gray cloud cover, a silver smile in the sky on a sea that is a brown hushed whisper instead of its roaring self.

 

Some outcomes were more tangible. I created some sketch-like sculptural works with encountered objects that intrigued me and which I would take home. A little like an abstract memory, a collection infused with the intention of the journey. I also found pleasure in creating what I called “choreographic maps for the mental space between Scheveningen and Katwijk.” these were essentially drawings based on a specific day of walking accompanied by a poetic textual impression. I though a mental map was apt as the physical route was so obviously straightforward yet allowed for more intangible wanderings of the mind. The maps were sent from Katwijk to individuals who lived in The Hague and with whom I had had a conversation about “Walking Hours.” It was a post- card reminder of our conversation and perhaps a catalyst for further exploration of the elements of the work. But like with the sculptures, it also gave me an opportunity to create a more tangible representation of the walking which by its nature is so ephemeral. It allowed me to develop a collection of drawings and at the same time scatter the collection in subversion to the conventional attitude of treating the art object with a near sacred reverence. I folded the drawing and it was imprinted with a postal stamp that penetrated the paper before being sent negligently by mail. One drawing never arrived.

I like to think the postman thought the drawing so nice he kept it for himself and now spends his weekends mentally wandering the contours of the map wishing for more walking hours rather than working hours.