Cocoon Conversation
Commission for Katharina Jaeger | May 2025
I was delighted to be invited to respond to Katharina’s expansive work through a creative text. I met Katharina at her show at PG Gallery, where I experienced ‘Carapace’. After having a wonderful in-depth conversation at her studio, she sent me some intriguing documentation of her works - when she was testing them outdoors, displayed at different galleries and former factory spaces, even the drawings before conception. It was a rich foundation upon which I could expand on. For the text I’ve chosen to record an imagined conversation between the general Gestaltwandler/shape-shifter character that seemed to embody her work, and an onlooker. I took inspiration from what I experienced in the ‘Carapace’ exhibition and the materials I received. I wanted to propose a new way to encounter the work, especially since the spatial/visual experience of the viewer is such a significant part of its activation. Writing this text was an invaluable experience, and I was happy to hear Katharina enjoyed it also!
“Thank you so much again for the draft of your text Yulin. I like the idea with the conversation- so strange. :) I think your approach with this 'encounter' lets people in and makes a beautiful connection. I hear something different each time I read it.”
Images courtesy of the artist, used with permission.
Cocoon Conversation
Onlooker: Wow…did you do this yourself?
Gestaltwandler (shape-shifter): What, this? No.. I mean, this is me– I’ve been this way for a while.
O: Right. Sorry, I was just admiring the ways in which you suspend.
G: Oh, yes, I do that quite well. Here, walk under me– from this side.
O: …Phew. What a surreal experience. Like I’m stepping through to another dimension and time slowed down, or something. How… do you do that?
G: Funny you should ask. I’ve been thinking about it myself. It’s been quite the confrontation, to be honest. Thinking about how I take up space, and how I handle that– emotionally, and all.
O: And how you do that so beautifully!
G: Well– thank you– it’s not my intention, but it does warm my heart when I hear things like that. I suppose I’ve had many different forms before this one. The shape you’re seeing now is the result of many tweaks, before and after I arrived in this space.
O: Fascinating. So you weren’t always this way.
G: Oh, no. Believe it or not, some journal drawings led to my conception. Since then, I’ve been many places. I’ve been thrown away, collected, pieced together, torn apart, sewn together again. I’ve been all of those identities and I am all of those identities, yet I’m not what I once was. I’m expansive but I need my time, folded semi-neatly on the shelves to anticipate how I can spread again, outside the studio. I’m eager to be stretched affectionately under the sun outdoors, but that takes a certain window of pondering and meandering around the newness of the space I eventually open up to. It’s a laborious practice, and I never know how I’m going to feel–or look– for that matter, to onlookers like you.
O: Well, you’ve completely immersed me. I’m still here, lingering.
G: Me too. Granted, I’m attached to the walls with these chords and hooks. I like it. I’m being posed, in a sense, to be read in a million different ways. And I can see my body better in this light, anyway.
O: Yes… I love the different textures and colours you encompass…
G: Yes…I am composed of practical, protective materials that were originally manufactured to have a close relation to the human body. Now they make up my body. Isn’t that something? I am fragments of tents, sleeping bags, curtains, blankets, clothing, duvet covers, webbing… as far as the eye can see. I guarantee a pseudo-survival and domesticity. A life you’d want. I am a hard upper shell, a defensive covering. Carapace… the world is relentless these days. There is a new reality we have to confront everyday. We are made to constantly adapt to not only make sure we take up space, but also hold space for ourselves and others. It’s a delicate balance. It’s the difference between surviving and living, sincerely. I want to be hurled into an open field. I want to billow in the exhilarating summer wind. But reality does not always give way for it. I am also afraid I will disappear into the ether without my enclosed, dark seclusions. That of the tortoise, crustacean, and arachnid. I need to be still to move. and move you. and move on from here to.. somewhere else, somewhere new again.
My time is almost up. In this form here, anyway. I hope I’m getting somewhere, at some point; I was made to shape-shift, so I must be able to continue existing, right?
O: Right, of course! You’re the most resilient shape-shifter I know, and I’ve only just met you. From what you’ve revealed, I know you will have a sustainable life. You will live long, beyond all of us…you’re in good hands.
G: I’m in good hands…
O: Though, I’ve been wondering for a while…in the form you’re taking, I can almost see you holding something in your negative space. What is it?
G: …What is it?
O: I think we all see something different. I can feel you holding it ever so tenderly. For me, I see something ambitious and hopeful. It vanishes when I search for it, but I can see it in my peripheral vision. So curious. You are performing something extraordinary. I’ll be thinking about you for a long time.
Anyway, I have to go– I’ve got a meeting I have to get to. Thank you for speaking with me. I hope I see you again.
G: Thank you. I hope so too– though, you may not recognise me next time.
O: I know. May I never see you like this again. I hope you take the sky, the land, the sea. The rooms from which you will hang and the darkness of which you will embrace. Till we meet again.
G: Till we meet again.