Living and Lasting began with a visit to the Danish National Archive. A traditional archive does not circulate: the collections remain within the institution. We took our practices into the archive and, whilst we could not take the documents away with us, we came away with our practices slightly altered by our experiences there. Afterward, we created an imaginary archive and an archivist who invited each one of us to donate any object we wanted to the collection. It is striking that we all chose domestic objects - a cup and saucer, flowers, a pottery shard, and diaries. We were each emerging from lockdowns in our various countries, it was as though we wanted to send to each other, and to the archive, a token of our time locked away isolated. We already knew a lot about each other’s history and preoccupations, but we were nevertheless fascinated, and moved, by the objects - we will never stop learning from each other.

Our collaboration works because we take risks, welcome fortuity and we trust each other. Of course in a relatively long-lasting collaboration, it can grow difficult to keep surprising ourselves. One way is to circulate our practices and keep them on the move because the chances are that they will change with each movement. The circulation of our objects - posting them to Per and passing them around in the performances – was akin to circulating our practices in our meetings and performances. Furthermore, each of our objects has its individual history of circulation before it circled its way into our project.

We like the ambiguity of ‘circulating’. We might go round and round in circles and not get anywhere and we might pass from one person or place to another and spread our influence. The ‘Circulating Libraries’ in Britain of the 17th and 18th centuries preceded the free public libraries of the 19th century. Because something is circulating, we can’t assume it’s free in itself or free to be used by others. However, there are genuine efforts to transform institutions that house knowledge from within. The Oslo Public Library, for example, engages in a tool-sharing makers' space called Folkeverkstedet1 to facilitate sharing and circulation of technical and creative knowledge in a hands-on way. It comes down to institutions bending their structures to allow space for thoughtful tinkering. What new knowledge might come of that?

There is a similar ambiguity in ‘practice’. It could be something that is repeated over and over to no avail, with the same outcome each time. And it could be something that constantly changes and develops. Intrinsic to both ‘circulating’ and ‘practice’ is the thrill of evolution and the danger of becoming stuck in our project Living and Lasting, we attempt to inhabit the space between these extremes, it is here that we do the work.