This exhibition examines the complex relationship between host and guest as a framework to explore questions of intimacy and hospitality during times of transition and displacement. A host embraces, cares for and remains, while a guest arrives, adapts and departs. In the physical or metaphorical sense as a body, home or a place the host-guest dynamic is marked by co-dependency, negotiation and sometimes conflict. This dynamic is prone to instability, with beginnings and endings that can occur abruptly, often evoking a mixture of emotions. This interaction can be joyous and comforting, but also fraught with anxiety and tension.
Reflecting on these nuanced experiences, the four artists featured in the exhibition Michele Chu, Florence Lam, Monique Yim and Bunny Cadag present newly commissioned works in sequence. By designing an immersive installation that envelops the senses, intervening with the tenth-floor space at Para Site, Chu assumes the role of host and welcomes the audience into an interactive stage for performances and happenings. Lam, Yim and Cadag will present live works throughout the duration of the exhibition, both within and beyond Chu's installation, reimagining the role of the guest. The three artists will take turns occupying or activating various elements from within the installation, showing performance-based works characterised by choreographic instructions, body movements, improvisation, audience participation and connecting the spaces with the external world.
Each artist weaves their unique perspectives and lived experiences into a dialogue of exhibition-making, narrative shifts and performance within a constantly evolving environment. Seeing the host-guest relationship through the lens of the mother and child, Chu hosts a space for grief, a hybrid realm that is both a domestic habitat and a disorienting void. In inviting the audience to navigate these intertwined worlds, she transforms the personal pain of losing her mother into a collective site of mourning. Lam's improvisation using her own
the Passage
body explores the ambivalence between presence and absence, rooting and clearing. Showing a trajectory from a contained space to the boundless ocean, she reflects on her own experience with abortion, considering the female body as a vessel that nurtures life, but is also susceptible to loss of life. Meanwhile, Yim, who is an artist and a psychotherapist, instigates personal encounters in various forms, offering a respite of stability within the inherent unpredictability and transience of our lives. Yim sees each interaction as an opportunity to hold space for audience members to unload emotional baggage, transforming pain into strength. Lastly, Cadag considers territories as fluid and arbitrary concepts. In her collaboration with migrant communities, Cadag draws connections between the experience of traversing geopolitical borders and navigating bodily boundaries to provide a sense of connection and solace, offering an opportunity to find belonging in adopted homes.
Together, the four artists in the exhibition mediate and adapt, demonstrating essential gestures of coexistence. They engage in dialogue with each other, asserting individual voices through intersubjectivity. Audiences breathe life to the artists' ideas by participating in their field research, rehearsals and performances. The seemingly dominant structure is ever-redefined by the elements introduced by those who occupy it, taking into account the push and pull between the personal and the social, the local and the foreign. As the exhibition unfolds and pages turn, relationships and perspectives intertwine and shift, deconstructing the host-guest binary. In one view, everyone is a guest on this earth, holding no eternal claim; in another, when boundaries are disrupted, the guest may gain power, and the host may be liberated.
'Rehearsal: Notes for a Future Project', 7 August, 2024, Para Site, Hong Kong. Photo: Li Chuqi
Michele Chu
rocking cradles, wet blankets
2024
Mixed media
On view: 2.11.2024–23.2.2025
Location: Para Site
Participatory performances
Happening: 6–8.12.2024
Location: Para Site
Michele Chu's work revolves around creating spaces and rituals that transform gestures and deepen emotional connections with oneself and others. The installation reflects Chu's personal journey through grief, using intangible elements temperature, bodily awareness, scent and time to guide the visitor's experience. Entering through a bluelit hallway, which echoes both the nearby funeral home and bodies of water, visitors step into a transitory space that sets the mood and tone. Beyond this threshold lies a dimly lit living room, where visitors are welcomed to take off their coats, put down their bags and make themselves at home. The air is warm, carrying the subtle traces of past interactions a recently vacated seat, a table that still bears the remnants of a meal evoking a blend of absence and presence. As they pass through the two cut-out openings in the room, visitors fall into a chilling and unsettling space where each step starts to sink, becoming harder to take. Deep in the installation is a sanctuary of remembrance where water vibrates and drips, light shifts, muffled voices linger and piles of salt invite guests to participate in a ritual of grieving and reflection. In this immersive work, the artist's vulnerable inner landscape, shaped by a year of grieving, is transformed into a shared, communal experience.
Chu also reimagines and develops the installation in a series of participatory performances that engage all five senses, using food, which becomes an intimate medium, to amplify different aspects of the installation. Chu is drawn to food's role in community bonding, its healing qualities and its power as a sensory portal to memories and cultural experiences. Through this multisensory journey, the performance opens a space for collective mourning.
Florence Lam often improvises with her body and uses mixed media to conjure vivid, corporeal and animistic subjects. Across two distinct sites, the artist explores hostguest dynamics that emerge from within, like a cocoon that encases an insect before being discarded, or a mother's body nurturing a foetus until it detaches. In There is a cocoon, but nobody is inside, Lam occupies Michele Chu's constructed environment overnight, arriving at Para Site shortly before closing and departing soon after reopening. The enclosed space becomes Lam's stage for performance and evolution, a stage that evades physical attendance and allows only for a mediated audience via a livestream. Traces of her presence are left behind, signalling the absent artist, like a short-lived moth in Chinese belief, incarnated from a deceased loved one, visiting the living.
Departing from this constructed environment, the artist then turns towards the water for Ocean Birth, a continuation of her earlier work Maternal Water (2022). In the boundless yet dense space of the ocean, Lam imagines submersion while simultaneously striving to break free. Inside a womb, fluid sustains the foetus, yet, once born, the same element holds the potential for drowning. Through this exploration of water's duality, the artist's metamorphosis reflects both fertility and its deliberate cessation. Along this trajectory between land and sea, she invites companions to help counter the solitude of existence.
Monique Yim's recent works have expanded from exploring identity politics through her own body to examining the intersection of psychotherapy and art. With Echoing Contemplation, she presents a voice recording to accompany visitors through their journey. As both a guided participation and meditation, the work creates a sense of resonance, inviting visitors to be performers and contributors in the space, while remaining free to own their space and time.
In Moments of Encounter, Yim hosts one-on-one interactions and conversations with visitors. These encounters take place across two transient venues where things are in constant flux. At Para Site's exhibition space, Yim reimagines the visitors' path through Chu's installation, filling the staged absence. In contrast, at a hotel common area, she engages with the audience in a social setting, intervening in real-life contexts. Communicating with participants through the five senses, she fosters reflection, connection, support, empowerment and, ultimately, self-transformation.
Harmonic Flows is a lecture-performance that doubles as a guided mindfulness meditation, initiating imaginative journeys in the mind and spirit. Yim serves as a conduit for life's flowing state, grounding awareness in the present moment as participants immerse themselves in multimedia, translating these elements into body movement and co-creation.
Negotiating the frontiers of territories and bodies is the point of departure for Bunny Cadag's work. Identifying with marginalised, queer and transgender communities and recognising the violence of social structures, Cadag empathises with the traumatic experiences of others, drawing inspiration for these rapports from pre-colonial and Indigenous culture. In particular, she looks at the Filipino native legacy of shamans who heal and communicate with natural spirits, and has created an alter ego, Vera Maningning, who is a faceless, transcendent being cloaked in white lace. These fabrics, iconic in Filipino households, might go unrecognised for their cultural significance by the people of Hong Kong despite the fact that many residents share a home with Filipino migrant domestic workers, who form the city's largest ethnic minority group.
Drawing on the symbolism associated with Filipino culture and domesticity, the artist taps into the cordial and generous nature of Filipino communities. By visiting and collaborating with them in their adopted home in Hong Kong, she facilitates a collective performance through voice and body movements, cultivating connection, comfort and agency through a practice of reclaiming spaces where shared stories converge.
Please refer to the exhibition webpage for details and updates on all live performances.
This collage combines my photographs, and pastel sketches with words taken from my diary scans to reflect on my past year of grief. It loosely captures my bodily sensations and emotional landscape throughout the four seasons: summer, autumn, winter, and spring.
M: Switched positions, but with a similar gaping space a negative space of loss, bounded by an invisible force
F: Gasping, paced in solitude and similitude. Without knowing, lost and found. I guess our feelings of loneliness are quite universal anyway.
F : 我們彷彿交換了位置
M : 交換了位置 , 但是空置的距離依舊存在 一個充滿失落 的負空間 , 被無形的力量界限 F : 在相近的寂寞節拍下喘息 。 不明所以 , 失去又再尋獲 。 我 想我們的孤獨還是共相的 。
M: How do you part with someone you've grown inside of, someone who has made you a home both inside and outside their body?
How do you say goodbye to your home?
I'd like to believe that instead of disappearing, their energy remains. Energy never dies; it is never created or destroyed. Likewise, your love, memories, and emotions never fade.
F: How to part with someone who had grown inside you, someone who didn't want to part? How do you part with someone who saw you as home? ⋯
Water has drowned my eyesight, it created weight for me to bear on my shoulders when I submerge myself in the pain in where I lay, unconscious, it also washes away the painted camouflage on my face, dying into the depths of my body. It can easily be polluted, charged with complexity, and the only way to purity is for it to change form and leave, to incarnate. It floats up into the air up high but it stays within the ozone layer, we don't see it anymore but it didn't just vanish, perhaps just closer to where our parted ones are. Embracing them on behalf of us. If I'm qualified enough to.
21:30–00:00
Listening to My Love Mine All Mine by Mitski (on loop) 反覆聆聽着 Mitski 的 《 My Love Mine All Mine 》
F : 你要如何與一個曾在你體內生長 、 不想離開你的人永別 ? 如 何與一個視你為家的人永別 ? ……
M: This duality of water. Something that could be so peaceful and serene, yet violent. Something that gives us life, yet can also kill us. Something that comes out of our bodies when we cry, something that we live in when we're still forming. It hits, slaps, envelops, mists ⋯ Something that when in mist form, makes you lose your sense of time and space. Something that you can never predict, like grief. Like a tap that isn't properly closed, drip ⋯ drip drip ⋯ drip.
'Rocking cradles, wet blankets' was a line from a poem I wrote last year. Wet blankets remind me of childhood, but also of the days leading up to death. A certain discomfort, of wet skin, wet socks, wet blankets. Of body excretion, of the connection between mother and child.
F: ⋯ I didn't expect it to be so heavy, I could barely stand on my legs, it dragged me to the ground but I refused to kneel down, the weight of life and the weight of guilt, the pressure from society, but I'm free of regret. I wrapped the watered
blanket around myself, engulfed myself in it and squeezed. Water gushing out like a waterfall. My limbs were not enough, so I pressed my face into it to squeeze all the water out. My maternal water. The water that made me 'mother'.
⋯ Ironically, ironically, so ironically ⋯ I understood that crying was a love language of my body to myself. It is in the DNA of our body that carries love and the ability to love. Perhaps I would have never understood this and felt this so vividly in my body without the presence of life within me, though short lived. This is what a child could give to a mother. It protects, it's much more capable of loving than me. I think I am extremely grateful, but I feel ashamed and wrong to say it Gratefulness is too reductive of a word to express how I felt and am still feeling, the weight and the levitating power, it is too immense to be carried by a single entity, the strength it generates and multiplies ⋯ It must be carried by actions, by lived time and space, by images, by poetry.
M: There's this clip from Midnight Gospel I really like that talks about grief and heartbreak. At one point Duncan asks 'How do you stop a heartbreak?' and his mom says 'You cry'.
Something so simple yet true. When I cry, I let the tears roll down slowly onto my cheeks and then to my mouth. I taste saltwater. The more you cry, the saltier your mouth gets.
That's when I started to use salt in my works, in the form of sculptures and installations. And then later as a sound and
taste element in my performances. Thinking of salt as tears, but also preservation of memory. There's this participatory performance I did, where I wanted to build a flute out of salt and play it. After some trial and error, I resorted to making a digital instrument instead where I used mics and hydrophones to capture the gestures I did with salt like stepping into salt, licking the salt pipes, washing people's hands with salty water. At the end of the performance, I gave the audience salt cups I baked, poured water into them, and we drank this salty water together, almost like a tea ceremony ritual. After the performance, people texted me messages like 'I still have your tear-salt in my mouth', or that it made them feel emotional that 'now an object being a compression of time and movement and salt as a metaphor of tears now pressed into a cup that holds water'.
I really hope to continue to make space for these personal and universal experiences of grief, to hold space for people to grieve and to care for each other.
F: Is it possible for us to hold each other this time?
Dialogue as Space: A series of one-to-one collective writings,
The idea of connecting and collaborating through conversations occurred when Jessie invited me to be part of this project. I know that Michele, one of the participating artists, has been working with creating spaces for grief, about her mother's passing. For myself, I have been contemplating on the idea of female fertility, stemming from my abortion that happened 6 years ago. In early June, Michele and I spent an afternoon sharing our memories and how we navigate the emotions that we experience through our artistic practices. During our conversations, it was as if we momentarily abandoned our identity as artists and took on new matching ones: Michele, a child grieving about the loss of her mother, and me, the 'mother' grieving about the 'loss' of the 'child'. We didn't initiate our encounter, but it seems to fall in place so coincidentally and eerily. This conversation has thus built some sort of foundation (at least for myself) towards approaching this project.
When Jessie proposed the idea of artists contributing to the pages of the catalogue in the form of a scrapbook, I immediately recalled my conversation with Michele and thought how wonderful it would be to create in the same way with Monique and Bunny. Although we might not be collaborating face to face, there is a shared sense of intimacy among all of us, which could become the base to manifest into something special. Recently I have been thinking a lot about human connections, their meaning, and possibilities, about what a dialogue can create that a monologue can't. Sometimes one plus one does not equal two, but six, seven, eight, minus ten, or zero. How do we map that out?
I want to think of the scrapbook as a shared safe space between other artists and I, where you can keep something precious, like a treasure box that stores a moment of space and time, shared thoughts, emotions, and energy flow. They can not only exist in the form of a verbal dialogue but be it poetry, textual images, and even rhythms. By creating, gathering, and responding to others freely that allow this shared treasure box collection to grow even more, it's also a good way to learn about each other's aesthetics.
Presence and absence: presence as a way to hold space, absence as a way to make space. How do we balance the two? This notion of the host and the guest Though I'm a 'guest' in the exhibition, can I also create spaces where I 'host'? What are the power dynamics within? I've heard this saying about support and maintenance, explaining that the best maintenance is when its presence goes unnoticed. Like when the metro runs so smoothly that you forget every night after the station closes, workers will go through every track and carriage to ensure everything works fine. Or when you sit and relax on a sofa for long enough that you forget about its physicality, leaving you in a state of pure relaxation. The world seems to urge us to grow quieter, ever quieter. Can silence become a voice? This notion has been on my mind, perhaps due to my increasing involvement in curation. How do people create and share space, when there is no physical space, where you can feel safe and vulnerable and access a state of mind seldom reached in solitude?
Below are the instructions I shared with the fellow artists prior to writing:
- We go online and write on this shared document simultaneously, while listening to the same playlist by one musician (music without understandable lyrics) of your/my choice.
- Can take on any tone of speech or language, no need to worry about grammar or logic, treat it as a free flow of dialogue-making, using words and sentences as a tool or as material. The poem doesn't have to be cool or good, just a record of a moment of exchange.
- Estimated duration of each session: 60 minutes
Full versions of all three conversations are available online on the exhibition webpage. Do take your time to read them! Thank you, Michele, Monique, and Bunny for participating in this experiment with me. hosted by Florence
An interactive experience, a shared relational field here and now
# The 'Aesthetics of Disturbance 1 ' in Performance Art
Art isn't always about beauty and harmony; it can also be a radical, even conflicting gesture. I move across this spectrum, inviting introspection, dialogue, and connection with the world. By unsettling sensory perceptions, consciousness, and familiar understandings, I aim to provoke reflection, challenge mainstream perspectives, and disrupt social norms, opening up new possibilities.
# Relational Aesthetics Oriented Toward Healing
Using interactive relationships as an aesthetic element, this process allows people to explore and reshape their relationships with themselves, others, and the world potentially even transforming trauma. It follows a path of encounter, connection, emotional containment, transition, and transformation, leading to self-transcendence.
To be embraced and passaged → To embrace and to pass
To be hosted → empowered → to host → social sustainability
To be healed → empowered → to self-heal → social change
1 Originated from 'Aesthetics of Disturbance Monique Yim' by Lam Samwai, MING'S, Issue 79 / March 2021, published in Chinese.
# The Greatest Fear of Humankind
Death and bidding farewell symbols of loss and life's impermanence.
# Inner Potential: Transforming Trauma
Re-define meaning → transform trauma into a gift for life → embrace new choices → nurture a better self → life impacting life
# 'The Queer Art of Failure 2 '
Failure applies to everyone. Even in the face of constant failure, human beings bear the capacity to try and reach a utopia of their own definition. How do you define success and failure? Success is simply a representation of the dominant values that social norms celebrate.
# Themes and Ultimate goal
From private to public sphere (the personal is political), from the personal to the collective experience/history, from queer or any kind of marginalised subject (the Other) to the human condition of everyone even in the mainstream.
# Works and Meanings
Some reflect our times, others raise awareness and inspire social change. Some commemorate personal or collective trauma, while others offer a space to express, process, and transform feelings into healing, fostering empathy, connection, and togetherness.
# Artist-Audience Relationship
How do we push the boundary of performance art? What if the audience becomes the active subject, decision maker, performer and the work itself? What if the artist becomes an initiator, inviter, be open and even absent?
2 Jack Halberstam, The Queer Art of Failure, 2011.
#21 Re/Dis/Misplacement
To explore diversity and fluidity, collectiveness and common ground; to investigate reactions triggered by interactions with others and the environment: success/failure, security/vulnerability, intimacy/loneliness, ideality/reality, familiarity/strangeness. The essence of power power that shapes discourse, power dynamics, decentralisation, and subjectivity.
# Adventure
Relationships of host and guest, artists and audiences, locals and immigrants, or any kind, is a two-way adventure of ushering in the other, of taking risks.
Trace Record (2022). Photo: LOVE+ Awakenings, Gay Games Hong Kong 2023 《 痕跡記錄 》( 2022 年 )。 攝影 : LOVE+ Awakenings, Gay Games Hong Kong 2023
Queer Series No.16 (2021), 135 YCS, Hong Kong, 2021. Photo: Gustav Lindgren
'Rehearsal: Notes for a Future Project', 7 August, 2024, Para Site, Hong Kong. Photo: Li Chuqi 「 排演 : 未來計劃筆記 」, Para Site , 香港 , 2024 年 8 月 7 日 。 攝影 : 李楚琪
My Mandarin is Limited (2024), Shenzhen, 2024.
Photo: Shenzhen Sand International Performance Art Festival 2024 《 我的普通話很爛 》( 2024 年 ), 深圳 , 2024 年 。 攝影 : 深圳沙灘國際行為藝術節 2024
⋯
F: What if we have been taught and conditioned to endure discomfort for a long period of time? Like long durational performances that work with endurance. We were made to believe that the discomfort is necessary for something bigger. Or maybe it is? How do we let go and allow ourselves to transform? Like ice melting into water, then becoming clouds, then rain, then a river, and then the sea, becoming part of the snow in the Japanese Alps, the Ganges River, a part of Victoria Harbour, the water that flows out of a living being's eyes. Seeds sprout and bloom, embracing the sun and the nutrients, wilt, and become part of the soil again.
M: Unlearning is an important kind of learning. Unlearn the need to confront all your life's substances on your own with the 'impermission' of fragility, and learn to let yourself be open, giving yourself unconditional love and divine compassion. When you have experienced what it feels like to be contained by someone or by nature then you are empowered to expand your inner resources, to contain yourself, and to transform your discomfort. Nature is one of our role models and a great teacher, full of divine compassion. Life is like a circle birth, ageing, illness, death ⋯ there is transformation. Life is oneness ⋯ as birth is everywhere and comes from death. What if everything is empty, but everything is love?
F: We usually relate love to a kind of wholesomeness, or being full of something. How is it love when it is a kind of emptiness? Where do the feeling of love and love itself travel? Is nature full or empty? Perhaps, like you said, nature is full of compassion but empty of ego there is no pride, no regret or guilt, no hatred. But I'm also curious, what made you interested in healing the collective and the individual?
M: Emptiness is the nature of life and self. To understand emptiness is to understand the nature of love and self-love,
and healing and self-healing as well. Emptiness is when we realise everything is equal, fluid, flowing, and flexible, and keeps transforming with different possibilities. We will then realise there are no standard answers, fixed goals, identities, or norms. After all, you will find that everything is non-binary not good or bad. What if your trauma is a gift to your life, allowing you to become a better self? Fortunately, you possess the absolute power to (re)define meaning, and excitingly, you could freely live out your personal 'hero's journey' of achieving a higher level of selfawareness and inner integration, as Carl Jung suggested! The power of emptiness inspires us to forgive the person, the event, and the object that cause discomfort, and to let go of up ā d ā na, which traps us our beliefs, our choices in life, every action and feeling, our relationships with others and the world, including our traumas. Then, let love and compassion return to our lives.
⋯
F: It's beautiful how the prompts of healing and therapy are often facilitated by visualising emotional transformation with spatial qualities: like you said, emptiness as forgiveness, compassion and self-compassion as keys to enter this room to transform discomfort. A house that is built for our souls and love to live together like a family. I'm still searching for ways to heal my traumas, traumas of the body, of loss, of betrayal. I feel the warmth, calmness, stability, and clarity when writing with you. A kind of non-invasive but welcoming embrace, a generosity that is capacious. I admire and respect therapists a lot. The world needs to slow down and let itself heal.
I am here, I can answer the call I can take chances, I can try
I am light, I am my world's half being No body, no bodies
Why do I care so much? Wala namang pakialam ang iba sa'kin?
Hypocrite! This human land is such a hypocrite! They pray everyday only to curse everyday!
Why do I have to be kind?
Why do I always have to be kind?
Why do hurt people work hard to be kind? To heal? To understand? To hold space? To embrace? To let go? To let live? To let flow? Why does it have to be me? Why me?
I am hurt
I am wounded
I am hurt
I am wounded
I am hurt
I am wounded
Dripping with so much tears, sweat, blood
Soaking wet
I am hurt
Never heard
Care is such a lonely world, care is such a lonely word Dapat nga ba?
This world is just not ready, too blinded
Too fake, to much, everywhere, overwhelming, drowning, Of this world, of themselves, of their superficialities
Michele Chu in her practice explores intimacy and human connection, specifically the interplay between sensory elements and space to amplify emotional connection between individuals. Her works contemplate what makes us human, through mediums like performances, sculptures, multi-sensory installations and public interventions amongst others.
Her work has been shown at 1a Space (Hong Kong); Negative Space (Hong Kong); and Tai Kwun Contemporary (Hong Kong). Her debut solo exhibition at PHD Group, 'you, trickling', was featured in The New York Times, Artforum, ArtReview Asia, Frieze, Ocula, and other publications.
She is a recipient of Soundpocket's Artist Support Program from 2020-21 and was in residence at London's Delfina Foundation as part of their 'Performance as Process' program in 2023.
她的作品曾在香港 1a Space 、 Negative Space 及大 館當代美術館展出 。 她在 PHD Group 的首次個展 「 you, trickling 」 曾在 《 紐約時報 》、《 Artforum 》、 《 ArtReview Asia 》、《 Frieze 》、《 Ocula 》 等刊物 上獲發表專題報導 。
她是聲音掏腰包 2020-21 年度藝術家支持計劃的 獲得者 ; 2023 年參與倫敦 Delfina Foundation 的 「 Performance as Process 」 駐留計劃 。
Florence Lam is artist, curator, educator, with performance art as the main medium. She grew up in Hong Kong, obtained her MA Fine Art from Iceland Academy of the Arts in 2017 and her BA Fine Art from Central Saint Martins in 2014. She is the co-founder of Per.Platform, Hong Kong-based live art platform founded in 2021. Lam has performed around Asia and Europe, including M+ (Hong Kong 2023), IMPORT/EXPORT (Livorno, Italy 2023), Black Market International–Exploring 2021 (Frankfurt, Germany 2021), ZABIH Performance Festival (Lviv, Ukraine 2019), Reykjavík Arts Festival (Iceland 2018), Performance Platform Lublin (Lublin, Poland 2017) and Manifesta (Zürich, Switzerland 2016) etc. She worked as a re-performer and workshop facilitator for Marina Abramović in 2018-2019.
Monique Yim (b.1984, Hong Kong) is an artist, educator and mental health professional as a certified hypnotherapist, gestalt counsellor, and mindfulness and expressive arts instructor. She received her MA from Central Saint Martins, University of the Arts London, UK and studied postgraduate programmes at Zurich University of the Arts, Switzerland.
Yim mainly engages in performance, photography, video, mixed media installation, participatory art, public and community art, as well as film and theatre. Her works address human conditions, including social, cultural, identity, body, gender and queer issues, as well as the experiences of marginalised minorities. Since 2006, she has been featured in over 200 exhibitions, festivals and residencies across more than 30 cities in Asia, Europe and the Americas. She has received international and local awards, including the 'Visual Art Performance Made in Public Space Prize' at Kassak Centre, Europe (2018), shortlist nominations for the 'Human Rights Arts Prize' in Hong Kong (2021) and the 'Colours of Humanity Arts Prize' in Hong Kong (2022 and 2023). She curated 'Performance Art Marathon' at the West Kowloon Cultural District in Hong Kong (2014).
Yim has served as a consultant, lecturer, workshop instructor, speaker at talks and research conferences, and professional trainer at over 100 overseas and local universities, schools, arts and cultural organisations, social services institutions, healthcare institutions, diverse arts events, and community arts projects. She is dedicated to performance art education and has pioneered interdisciplinary practices and teaching methods in performance art in Hong Kong, including cross media art, creative education, cultural and gender studies, general education, life education, mindfulness, expressive arts therapy, psychology and psychotherapy, wellbeing and healing, philosophy, and spirituality.
Yim's practice and works have consistently been featured in the media, cited in academic texts, and selected as research or teaching materials worldwide.
Bunny Cadag is an artist creating at the nexus of craft and performance; within the tensions and transitions between theatre, film as well as installation; and through the voice as a fundamental site of creative resistance and poetic reexistence. Her practice is anchored in indigenous gender diversity and contemporary gender equality, and shared through a trans approach to healing and song, alongside which she nurtures a decolonial composure toward folklore and tradition. Cadag's performances are often participatory and community-based, amplifying voices of the marginalised while thoughtfully navigating defamiliarised shapes and spaces with compassion and generosity. In 2021, Cadag was a recipient of Para Site's No Exit Grant for Unpaid Artistic Labour. Cadag's work titled Munimuni was featured in 'Myth Makers-Spectrosynthesis III' at Tai Kwun Contemporary, Hong Kong (2022). She graduated with a Certificate in Critical Practice in Contemporary Performance at Dance Nucleus Singapore in 2023. She lives and works Nasugbu, Batangas, Philippines.
Para Site is Hong Kong's leading contemporary art centre and one of the oldest and most active independent art institutions in Asia. It produces exhibitions, publications, discursive, and educational projects aimed at forging a critical understanding of local and international phenomena in art and society.
And participants in 'Rehearsal: Notes for a Future Project' 以及 「 排演 : 未來計劃筆記 」 參與者
Para Site Art Space is financially supported by the Art Development Matching Grants Scheme of the Government of the Hong Kong Special Administrative Region. The Government of the Hong Kong Special Administrative Region provides funding support to 'The Embrace and the Passage' only, but does not otherwise take part in it. Any opinions, findings, conclusions or recommendations expressed in the materials/ activities (or by members of the Para Site team) are those of the organisers of the exhibition only and do not reflect the views of the Government of the Hong Kong Special Administrative Region.
Para Site 藝術空間獲香港特別行政區政府 「 藝 術發展配對資助計劃 」 的資助 。 香港特別行政 區政府僅為 「 棲與渡 」 提供撥款資助 , 並無參 與其中 。 在刊物 / 活動內 ( 或 Para Site 成員 ) 表達的任何意見 、 研究成果 、 結論或建議 , 純 屬該展覽的推行機構的觀點 , 並不代表香港特 別行政區政府的觀點 。
'The Embrace and the Passage' is financially supported by the Project Grant of the Hong Kong Arts Development Council. Hong Kong Arts Development Council supports freedom of artistic expression. The views and opinions expressed in this project do not represent the stand of the Counc il.