Simon(e) van Saarloos:

I first encountered Evan Ifekoya’s work live at De Appel in Amsterdam, where visiting the solo show A Score, A Groove, a Phantom, a Congregation felt like entering a dark room at a club: first stepping through a heavy bead curtain, down a dark hallway, then into a basement-like space and a mixture of neon lights and various beats and voices. In a small room at the back there was a plush cave and Ifekoya’s voice, intimately proximate, giving a description of sex and lust to match Olave Nduwanje’s story in this Zine. Ifekoya emphasizes polyvocality (polyphony isn’t just about multiple voices, but also the and tone of the various voices) and abundance. “What if,” they ask, “we were to think from abundance instead of scarcity?” Polyvocality is part of this because you assume that a variety of voices doesn’t necessarily produce cacophony, or an incomprehensible tangle of perspectives and voices, but that there is enough space for all voices, including the disturbance and disruption this may cause. Ifekoya invites you to be everything and everyone.