The motif of "proximity without intensity" that Mu:p repeats through exhibitions and performances can also be explained through the concept of "arbitrary connection." What they attempt and aim for is to extend the performance. Extending it to the point where the beginning and end become unrecognizable. In doing so, the final subject becomes "time," which remains as something ongoing until the very end. This kind of work is different from one that makes you sense the passage of time. Rather, it is a work that reveals the fact that no matter when or where you connect, you can experience time properly.
In other words, our focus has shifted from a specific purpose to what we commonly refer to as environment or process. While art with a clear beginning and end is goal-oriented, art that is unrelated to such concepts exists regardless of the length of time or the place. [ 1 ]
Twenty years ago, John Cage wanted to create a tape that could be listened to for any duration, whether it be 3 seconds or 3 days... In other words, he sought a structure where listening—time was not fixed (and could be arbitrarily accessed). This kind of "focus on the parts" is widely spread in the field of print culture, but it is new and surprising in time-bound arts such as music, theater, or film. [ 2 ]
When we commonly use words like "core" or "essence," we generally assume that there is a specific way to understand it better. We can imagine cases where a certain path is faster than others, or where a specific seat is better for properly watching a performance compared to other seats. However, this pertains to art aimed at a "purpose," as Cage describes, whereas "art unrelated to such things" connects with time, regardless of its duration or location. It is always time. There, in that (if we can imagine this kind of art as a place), distinguishing between superiority and inferiority is not only unnecessary but also does not function properly.
In other words, there is no specific way, location, or time to properly watch a Mu:p performance. Anywhere, at any time, I am in direct contact with the "core" or "essence" of the performance. I can understand the performance by making whatever I see my entirety.[ 3 ] In their exhibitions or performances, the shepherd (the artist or actor), instructions, walls, doors, passages, bells, and other elements constantly prompt the audience to move, likely to remind them endlessly that occupying a specific position, seat, or viewpoint is not truly related to an accurate performance experience. To explain this with a reference to Nam June Paik's writings on Cage, or Cage's own words, this kind of prolonged art helps to sense the whole through the "part" by ensuring that the "part" is omnipresent—that is, by allowing it to "exist anywhere, regardless of the length of time." This way, the audience is always guided to sense the whole through the parts.
This suggests that the definition of what it means to truly experience something (in this case, a performance) has changed. At the very least, the concept of scale has disappeared. There is no experience that is more or less complete. What confronts us anew is an endless proximity to "rightness" (as we are), and this requests contact without relying on intensity, such as whether it is close or far, strong or weak, deep or shallow, large or small. Or it asks us to contact the very idea of "no scale." Imagine pitch-black darkness. To touch the pitch-black right in front of you and the one just an inch away, with no difference between the two. Or the abyss of the immeasurable, which even nullifies this very difference.

Figure 1. The Last Supper. Leonardo da Vinci, 1490, Wikipedia.
❷It can also be explained through the concept of a passage. I wrote the following note: "I need nothing here" (the title of the text inserted in the third part of 《Shepherd's Woes》). This declaration sounds like something a passage would say. Because it is a passage, it needs nothing. A passage does not require much, or anything at all, in order to be a passage. It simply needs time. Time to enumerate everything it will depart from or allow to depart, from now until eternity.
I am leaving from everything here: the valley, the hill, the path, and the birds of the garden. I am leaving the barrels and priests, the sky and the earth, spring and autumn. I am leaving the exit path, the evening in the kitchen, the glance of the last lover, all the trembling cities I once visited. I am leaving the deep twilight falling on the earth, gravity, hope, fascination, and tranquility. I am leaving those I loved and those who were close to me, everything that moved me, everything that shocked me... (continued) [ 4 ]
The passage is nothing other than the "everything here" that declares it is leaving. The passage exists only as long as the length of "everything here." It exists as "everything here" occurs. Therefore, it does not have a beginning or an end, but only the act of "leaving from everything here" or "leaving," and this is all it is in its essence. Only the continuous act of leaving, only the act of continuously leaving in the form of a performance (something visible in an open space), makes existence exist. This is the way of being for the passage, and existence itself.
And Mu:p clearly presents the passage as a central motif and stage. When, following the shepherd's instructions, I stood in line in the passage, waiting in a state just before or just after something happens, I felt that being "here" was incredibly important. This is because "here," or "here" as much as anywhere else, was undeniably a passage. In that moment, as we recognize the "here" we belong to as a passage, not only this place, but also that place, the before and after, and all places and non-places, emerge as parts and the whole of the passage, all connected to the passage. I felt that the performance that turns "everything here" into a passage is the dream of the passage itself.
Therefore, the passage enables arbitrary connection. If the long table prepared for "The Last Supper" is a passage, and if the passage itself is the way in which Jesus’ words and blessings exist, then the disciples (the sheep) will no longer be curious about what is happening at the center. They will not wonder, but will focus on the passage itself. They will connect to the passage, anywhere, at any time. They will become the passage. Now, as always, the proximity to Jesus does not matter in relation to receiving divine grace. The Holy Spirit is present everywhere, and always present right "here."
We all, for this very reason, paradoxically do not need to remain in the same place. We do not need to hold our position. We can receive grace anywhere, at any time, and we can be witnesses anywhere, at any time. As much as we can be witnesses, we can also be the passage that speaks of the witnesses, and the passage that calls for them. As much as we are sheep, we can also be the shepherd... to the same extent. Or, we can be so fully immersed in this that the obsession with maintaining the same degree fades away. "Art unrelated to such things" works anywhere, at any time, regardless of the length of time. Changing positions. It is therefore natural for the shepherd, who does not lead the sheep anywhere, but must lead them anywhere, to be concerned. This is because we are all, in this narrow passage, both the shepherd and the sheep, the artist and the actor, the audience, and in doing so, we create the passage. We are becoming the passage.
- [ 1 ]
Conversation with John Cage, Richard Kostelanetz, translated by Ahn Mida, Ewha Womans University Press, 1996, p. 96.
- [ 2 ]
Nam June Paik: From Words to Christo, Nam June Paik, translated by Lim Wang-jun et al., Gyeonggi Cultural Foundation Nam June Paik Art Center, 2018, p. 219.
- [ 3 ]
After the performance, while sipping coffee, Mool said, "Remember, during the performance, there was someone who tried to watch what was happening both in front of and behind the wall at the same time, moving forward and backward with the wall in the middle."
- [ 4 ]
"I Need Nothing Here," The World Goes On, Krasznahorkai László, translated by Park Hyun-joo, Alma, 2023.