D0GG-ë

performance, 2024

at some point, D0GG-ë, the robot companion, became unresponsive. worried, E quickly got in contact with a help representative, who gave step by step instructions on how to try to make D0GG-ë well again. following her suggestions, E swept the floor and rearranged all the items in the room, tried speaking softly to D0GG-ë for a little while, and took D0GG-ë on a moving beach chair ride through the sand. "nothing is working," E said. so the representative replied, "there is a reset sequence." each D0GG-ë is designed to be highly sensitive to a specific musical pattern, when played with the right tone and rhythm. so E did a little song and dance with a tiny xylophone found nearby, and an umbrella too, in case it rains. still, no changes. there is another option, she said. the manual reset — to restore D0GG-ë back to factory settings. what follows is a circular exchange, for E wasn't ready to say goodbye to D0GG-ë just yet.

what can art do about loss? I've been leaning on where grief meets the ritual in recent weeks. I've learned ritual can be the smallest act, any small reminder or effort to make peace with things, little by little. the happening here functions as a simulated scenario, a space to let it all out, a space to make a mess, a therapy session, a burial: with hopes that revisiting something that felt like a haunting dream could produce some form of healing.