Nastia Yanson
contemporary art exhibit project photography performance installation video-art
An installation and video performance about insomnia, anxiety, and the search for rest — an attempt to retreat into a state where familiar logic unravels. The title refers to the stages of sleep, yet instead of a smooth descent into the unconscious, the viewer encounters fragmented, restless motion and the inability to surrender to sleep.

The project conveys confusion, mistrust toward the body, and the absence of ground — presenting insomnia as a bodily experience of loops, entanglements, and the collapse of linear time. It is neither dream nor wakefulness, but a suspended in-between, where chaos takes the shape of fabric.
N1-N2-N3-REM, 2025
video-performace // 7 min

The performance was structured around the stages of sleep, yet shown through the lens of insomnia — how each stage collapses, refuses to settle, and becomes distorted. Filmed in the corridor of my university. I enacted this struggle inside a duvet cover: cyclic attempts to hide, to struggle, to still the body, to surrender. The gesture was important for me as a way of displacing sleeplessness, showing that it is not bound to the bedroom but follows me anywhere, unfolding in any space.
A large blanket is suspended by its corners. Upon entering, the viewer is met with its front side — an abstract textile image. Walking around the blanket, they face its reverse, a plain white surface onto which the video performance is projected. In front of the projection lies a mattress, inviting the viewer to sit down, slow down, and inhabit this disoriented state.
Exhibition Design:
The blanket’s drawing was built from straight, repetitive stripes, echoing the patterns of ordinary bed linens. I cut and shifted them, multiplied and erased lines, creating a rhythm that becomes irritating, almost unbearable to look at for long. Fragments disappear, seams misalign — a visual echo of the restless, fragmented nature of insomnia, where comfort turns into unease.

This digital image was printed at full scale and transferred onto fabric with carbon paper. Over two days, I traced every line by hand with a screwdriver (it was simply the best in terms of line thickness), inscribing the pattern into the textile. This labor was crucial: anxiety had to be physically carved into the blanket. Later, in the performance, the fabric’s lines shifted and transformed with my movements, becoming part of the struggle itself.
Behind the Work: