No Name is a performance about contrasts: strength and fragility, intimacy and distance, love and the unknown. In an abandoned house—a space full of absence—I move between shadows and light, a figure veiled yet present.

The projection tells its own fragmented story: scenes of Western heroes, haunted beauty, and fleeting moments of joy. Horowitz plays Liszt’s Consolation No. 3, his music filling the space with longing, as my movements shift between drama and sensuality, connection and release. Sentences flash—“Never walk when you can ride”—a mantra of power, a question of freedom.

There is no resolution here, no simple story. It is an act of confrontation and vulnerability, asking what it means to reveal oneself while remaining hidden. No Name invites the audience into this tension, where meaning emerges in the spaces between what is seen and what is felt.

Prove U Exist was a performance I created in 2010. My performances often hold multiple layers of meaning, blending the personal with the social and global. At the time, the feeling of losing ourselves in the internet and technology wasn’t as dominant as it is today, but there was already a sense of coldness creeping into society—visible in the way we interacted with the news, wars, and the world around us.

This piece came from a deeply personal place. My love for someone who refused to fully be there for me, to commit, or even to truly exist in my life pushed me to confront him. But at the same time, this question wasn’t just for him—it was for everyone. Where are we? Do we really exist? And when do we truly exist?

Today, these questions feel even more urgent. We are becoming like ghosts—so many of us are invisible to one another, lost in our own worlds. Yet, paradoxically, we are so self-centered, consumed by our own existence. This duality, this tension between being unseen and overly focused on the self, is what I wanted to bring to the surface.

The performance was a provocation, a cry for attention, and a mirror for the disconnected world I saw—and still see—around me. When do we stop being ghosts and finally exist for one another?