Peekaboo is a mirror that only reflects when you scream at it.

Objects that surround us are extensions of our bodies. Pen and paper allow us to remember things. A phone gives us the ability to talk to people far away. A lamp enables us to see in the dark. But just as objects extend and expand our bodies, they are limiting our bodily expressions, since every interaction with the world goes through them, is mediated by them.

Objects that surround us define our daily choreography. The simple task of preparing food can be mediated by a campfire just as well as by an electric stove with a touch interface. The main difference between them lies not in the type of fuel they are using, but in the movements of the user’s body that they choreograph. For a campfire, we would have to gather wood, chop the log with an axe, light the fire and take care of it so it does not extinguish. To use a stove with an induction, we will have to put a finger on a particular place of a smooth ceramic plate for a few seconds, then, in a quick succession touch another part of the ceramic plate multiple times. What some see as convenience, the artist sees as a loss of bodily experience and bodily expression.

More and more, interaction is mediated by our fingertips alone. The rest of the body becomes unnecessary, unmoved, unlived. Rybakov wants to counteract this trend and create complex, rich, expressive choreographies. For that, he creates performative objects.

Peekaboo is such a performative object. It is inconvenient. It challenges the established choreography by requiring the user to use the voice to its full extent. To be in a museum – a place that demands respectful whisper – and still use the complete voice, to be loud, and to see themselves being loud. To recoil at the reflection – hardly anyone has seen themselves screaming – and to try again.

Peekaboo is a mirror that only reflects when you are present. Fully present with your voice.