Whaling the Institut/ion. Or the Rare Virtue of Interior Spaciousness

‘It does seem to me, that herein we see the rare virtue of a strong individual vitality, and the rare virtue of thick walls, and the rare virtue of interior spaciousness. Oh, man! Admire and model thyself after the whale! Do thou, too, remain warm among ice. Do thou, too, live in this world without being part of it. Be cool at the equator; keep thy blood fluid at the pole … Like the great whale, retain, oh man!, in all seasons a temperature of thine own’

Herman Melville¹

The first time I visited the ICA Gallery, as a stranger to Sofia, it was slightly difficult for me to find my way to the right apartment block, to the right flight of stairs, leading to the correct entryway. And it was even trickier to overcome that shade of childish shyness, which makes the gesture of approaching a new doorbell always ring with awkwardness to me. During our first conversation – last winter, on Zoom – Nevena Ekimova and I debated about that very feeling of entering a space, any space, a gallery space, and then this gallery space, when one feels seemingly uninvited. May I? Shall we?