Unlike many of the avant garde performers we poke fun at here, Bora Yoon seems to have a modicum of musical talent, a voice, and some ideas. (Although "music by carrot chopping" is probably an idea better left unexplored.) But all her skills are in service to a kind of spacey, esoteric, pretentious ambiance that seems, to me, hell to sit through.
There's an hour's worth below to test your
Just in case you can't discern the merits or purpose of this piece on your own, here is The New York Times to explain it all for you.
Caution: gratuitous bare female flesh for a few seconds at the start.
Full movie below.
This not taken from the Alan Moore graphic novel.
One of those essential holiday treats!
Best Beatles cover versions ever! The singer.
Let me know how far you get into this performance.
Her home page.
Maybe you'd like to catch her newest exhibition
In the theater, Ms. Samama, with a whistle in her mouth, removes her clothing and lies on the floor next to the room’s white brick wall. Stretching her legs up the wall and folding them into her belly, she travels in a continuous spiral along its perimeter. It’s painstaking work, and her labored breathing is audible through the whistle.
Surely the re-release of this fine film would help clarify and resolve the fraught state of race relations in the USA today.
Caution: some brief flashes of bare bosoms--a tactic which seems to constitute the entirety of the performer's artistic armory--in video and at the link..
More info here.