Everything is about the passing of time. Everything swims in time.
We everly yield to it. Laughing or crying, dancing
alone, dining together, zooming.
Presence yields to time, as time flushes into space. It appears impossible to separate the two.
So then it can be said,
for a durational performance that happens online, time is the space as much as space is time—
as much as the space we share is time. Dulce Lamarca’s Can you here me? is an endurance performance that happens after Idle Hands, a group exhibition with works exemplifying downtime, waiting, anticipation, rest, and play. These themes are some of the varied preoccupations of her practice, this same pronounced dwelling, moulding, mangling, pulling at the strings of time. Titled with a word play that is characteristic of Dulce’s occasional bent, here, an adverb, becomes a verb, a doing word, a plea as though to say presence me, can you make me present? And lowkey, as a participant, I came in not particularly enthused to hear or watch a performance encoding something for the audience to unravel, as I came tired with all that is going on in the world, in my own life.
The presence-ing Can you here me? centres is reminiscent of a different but also similar sentiment
Don’t we touch each other just to prove we’re still here?1
We are not touching each other with hands, but our benevolent gift to be here, here one another. Afterall, what is being together if not a series of connections and affirmations?