I go to sleep

I Go To Sleep – The Pretenders

The voices slowly spiral closer.
- ‘Is it real?’
- ‘Nah, I don’t think so. I don’t see the chest go up or down.’
- ‘It moved! Did you see that? I think she moved.’
- ‘Wait, let me just… Real careful now...’
- ‘Please refrain from touching the art!’ a kind, unwavering voice loops from across the room.
I know that voice. Calm, cool, collected, master to all the other voices in the room. My body is made of syrup. I am light-headed. All is soft and good. The voice is watching over me. I am a snail in a warm bath. I trail back to sleep.

Click. Click-click. Click-zap. Click-zap. Where did those flashes come from? For a second time I slow-motion my way out of an ocean of slumber. I carefully keep my eyes closed – bright light! – and gradually turn onto my back.
- ‘You are allowed to take pictures of the art, but please do not use flash photography!’ the voice bubbles again, gently reverberating in my cotton-candy head.

More people stop beside my bed: women, children, guided tour groups. Their breaths travel to the far depths of my subconscious. They speak English, French, Spanish. I feel the warmth of their bodies as they arch over me, the watchful eyes of the warden scrutinizing their every move.
- ‘In this work by Chu Yun we see a paid volunteer, transformed into a piece of living sculpture. Her sleep is induced by sleeping aids. The artist wants to pose questions like: What is the role of the female body in the history of art? What is the role of the museum as a platform of self-display?’
The participants are islands of enviable calm. They seem to exist in a charmed atmosphere, unperturbed by the fast pace of contemporary life or the exhibition around them, the sign on the wall of the New Museum exhibition room informs the non-guided visitor.

- ‘She looks so vulnerable.’
- ‘Not at all! She’s protected by the covers, isn’t she?’
- ‘Sure, but to be out there, for everyone to see…’
- ‘I think she’s just fine. She looks perfectly comfortable to me. Completely relaxed.’
- ‘She’s not relaxed, she’s drugged up! I think it’s weird. And a bit creepy.’
- ‘There, see? She moved again. I’m taking a picture.’
- ‘I kind of like it. And she still has the privacy of her dreams and thoughts. We might see her body sleep, but we still don’t know who she is.’
- ‘Whatever. I’d never do this. She's totally exposed.’
- ‘So what? She’s making money, isn’t she?’
- ‘Ten bucks an hour! That’s more than I make.’
- ‘Where do I sign up?’
- ‘I don’t like it.’
- ‘I wouldn’t mind a little snooze. You think there's room for one more?’

Could we perhaps turn down the volume a bit? I muse, half on my way to nowhere land again. The Art is trying to get some sleep here.

'This is Carlijn' is part of the exhibition 'The Generational: Younger Than Jesus', April 8 - July 12 2009 at the New Museum, New York City.