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The Guardian
5 days ago
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Experience: I am the world champion of ‘doing nothing'
From an early age I worried if I was doing enough. Growing up in Hong Kong, a city where competition is keen, I wanted to do well. That brought a lot of anxiety. I started to practise mindfulness in 2012. It helps a lot with my emotions, and I can think more clearly. As an educational psychologist, I see lots of mental health issues. I think bringing mindfulness into our schools is an important way to find moments of calm, especially in the fast-paced city of Hong Kong. That's what drew me to the Space‑Out competition – a contest about doing nothing. I saw it advertised on social media last year. The founder, Korean artist Woopsyang, has said that there's a lot of societal pressure to always be productive, so it's important to appreciate downtime. Woopsyang started the Space-Out competition in Seoul in 2014. It was a performance-art piece that involved people competing to effectively do nothing and 'space out' for 90 minutes. There have since been competitions all over the world, held several times a year. I entered one in Hong Kong last October. It was a hot afternoon and the event was held in an open space inside a busy mall in the centre of the city. There were many spectators chit-chatting. About 100 people took part, each sitting on a yoga mat that had been laid out neatly on the square. We were guided through a series of stretches before we settled down for the 90 minutes. You have to sit there without any significant movement; you cannot sleep, make any noise or check your phone. After the time is up, the final 10 participants are voted for by the spectators, likely based on our statements about why we joined the competition, and our expressions over the 90 minutes. The finalists' heart rates are measured throughout – the one with the steadiest is the winner. Every 15 minutes or so the judges come to measure your heart rate. These approaches make you nervous. I could feel my heart beating faster, but I tried to see it as a way to practise acceptance – to notice those feelings of tenseness, and try not to force myself to relax. We all have wandering minds – my thoughts jumped from my family, to the sound of the wind in the trees, to the fan humming around us. But you just take note of them. You observe it, like seeing the clouds up in the sky and how they come and go. I paid attention to my breath, to the feelings in my body, and my thoughts and emotions. I focused on the sensation of the breeze across my skin, noticing subtle changes in the environment and how they affected my body. Though it was a 'space out' competition, I was doing the opposite: actively practising mindfulness, observing my mind and my breath. Sign up to Inside Saturday The only way to get a look behind the scenes of the Saturday magazine. Sign up to get the inside story from our top writers as well as all the must-read articles and columns, delivered to your inbox every weekend. after newsletter promotion After about 30 minutes, I remembered we were being judged by the spectators, so I tried to imagine what being spaced out would look like. I dropped my glasses down my nose and sat like that for the next hour. When they announced the competition was over, I wanted to sit for longer. I have a busy life – alongside my job, I am studying, and have two kids, aged 11 and nine – so having this space was a luxury, especially in this world where our minds are stimulated all day long. Often we can get through a day and our mind might not have settled for even a second. I was surprised when I was announced as the winner. I understand that, for many people, sitting in silence for 90 minutes would be a nightmare, but I found it very enjoyable. I think it's vital to take time to come back to ourselves. In many parts of the world, people live day in, day out, never stopping – it's as if stopping is a kind of laziness. Although the event was just for 90 minutes, it gave us a way to just be ourselves, and I hope it reminds people that productivity isn't always the most important thing. The trophy I won is based on Rodin's The Thinker statue. It sits in my living room, and I see it as a reminder that we should all spare at least a few minutes a day to allow ourselves to do the things that nourish us, or just to have the space to do nothing. That is a gift. As told to Naomi Larsson Piñeda Do you have an experience to share? Email experience@
The Guardian
6 days ago
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Experience: I am the world champion of ‘doing nothing'
From an early age I worried if I was doing enough. Growing up in Hong Kong, a city where competition is keen, I wanted to do well. That brought a lot of anxiety. I started to practise mindfulness in 2012. It helps a lot with my emotions, and I can think more clearly. As an educational psychologist, I see lots of mental health issues. I think bringing mindfulness into our schools is an important way to find moments of calm, especially in the fast-paced city of Hong Kong. That's what drew me to the Space‑Out competition – a contest about doing nothing. I saw it advertised on social media last year. The founder, Korean artist Woopsyang, has said that there's a lot of societal pressure to always be productive, so it's important to appreciate downtime. Woopsyang started the Space-Out competition in Seoul in 2014. It was a performance-art piece that involved people competing to effectively do nothing and 'space out' for 90 minutes. There have since been competitions all over the world, held several times a year. I entered one in Hong Kong last October. It was a hot afternoon and the event was held in an open space inside a busy mall in the centre of the city. There were many spectators chit-chatting. About 100 people took part, each sitting on a yoga mat that had been laid out neatly on the square. We were guided through a series of stretches before we settled down for the 90 minutes. You have to sit there without any significant movement; you cannot sleep, make any noise or check your phone. After the time is up, the final 10 participants are voted for by the spectators, likely based on our statements about why we joined the competition, and our expressions over the 90 minutes. The finalists' heart rates are measured throughout – the one with the steadiest is the winner. Every 15 minutes or so the judges come to measure your heart rate. These approaches make you nervous. I could feel my heart beating faster, but I tried to see it as a way to practise acceptance – to notice those feelings of tenseness, and try not to force myself to relax. We all have wandering minds – my thoughts jumped from my family, to the sound of the wind in the trees, to the fan humming around us. But you just take note of them. You observe it, like seeing the clouds up in the sky and how they come and go. I paid attention to my breath, to the feelings in my body, and my thoughts and emotions. I focused on the sensation of the breeze across my skin, noticing subtle changes in the environment and how they affected my body. Though it was a 'space out' competition, I was doing the opposite: actively practising mindfulness, observing my mind and my breath. Sign up to Inside Saturday The only way to get a look behind the scenes of the Saturday magazine. Sign up to get the inside story from our top writers as well as all the must-read articles and columns, delivered to your inbox every weekend. after newsletter promotion After about 30 minutes, I remembered we were being judged by the spectators, so I tried to imagine what being spaced out would look like. I dropped my glasses down my nose and sat like that for the next hour. When they announced the competition was over, I wanted to sit for longer. I have a busy life – alongside my job, I am studying, and have two kids, aged 11 and nine – so having this space was a luxury, especially in this world where our minds are stimulated all day long. Often we can get through a day and our mind might not have settled for even a second. I was surprised when I was announced as the winner. I understand that, for many people, sitting in silence for 90 minutes would be a nightmare, but I found it very enjoyable. I think it's vital to take time to come back to ourselves. In many parts of the world, people live day in, day out, never stopping – it's as if stopping is a kind of laziness. Although the event was just for 90 minutes, it gave us a way to just be ourselves, and I hope it reminds people that productivity isn't always the most important thing. The trophy I won is based on Rodin's The Thinker statue. It sits in my living room, and I see it as a reminder that we should all spare at least a few minutes a day to allow ourselves to do the things that nourish us, or just to have the space to do nothing. That is a gift. As told to Naomi Larsson Piñeda Do you have an experience to share? Email experience@
The Guardian
10-06-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Entering the Space-out competition: I tried to be the best at doing nothing – but my opponent had a secret weapon
I am someone who finds it extraordinarily difficult to sit still or be quiet. On one family road trip, my mother challenged me not to speak for 20 minutes, with a prize of $100 for my efforts. I lasted approximately 30 seconds. My ADHD diagnosis at 32 was the natural progression of my life. The Space-out competition, held in Melbourne on Monday, was the ultimate test of whether I could fight my own nature and embrace nothingness. Created by South Korean artist Woopsyang as a response to her own experience of burnout, the competition has been running for more than a decade around the world with a simple proposition: a mini-city of competitors, all dressed as their jobs, sit in a public space doing absolutely nothing for 90 minutes. Laughing, chatting, using technology or falling asleep results in disqualification – 'lifeguards' patrol around monitoring everyone's activity, or lack thereof. A large yellow card is a warning, and a red one is a disqualification. Participants can raise smaller coloured cards to ask for warmth, water, a massage or to exit the competition. Every 15 minutes, 'doctors' measure participants' heart rates. The watching crowds vote on their favourite competitor, which, when combined with the heart rate measurement, determines the overall winner. Sign up for the fun stuff with our rundown of must-reads, pop culture and tips for the weekend, every Saturday morning Because I am a self-respecting journalist, my outfit is a fedora adorned with a card reading PRESS. My competitors include an actual dog, an elderly man (who turns out to be the oldest-ever participant in the competition), a woman sitting in a tub with a functioning fountain on her head, a Teletubby, a chef (with a Ratatouille toy on their head) and a bunch of young kids. We're all invited to write our reasons for participating on a board the public can read and vote on. The answers range from earnest to silly. 'To calm my nervous system,' one reads. 'I'm extremely unemployed,' reads another. Woopsyang comes to the stage, wearing the traditional male Korean ceremonial garb, including the wide-brimmed gat, and makes a speech via an unfurling ribbon. 'Sometimes doing nothing can be the most powerful and valuable act,' it reads. We participate in stretching and aerobic exercises before sitting on our mats. The timer begins. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see my partner taking photos of me, but I try to ignore him and focus on a fixed point in front of me. I try not to move. I'm desperate to get up, to shake my limbs, but I keep sitting. My mind is not blank, but I try to engage the meditation techniques my Buddhist mother taught me. I can hear comedian commentators Harry Jun and Oliver Coleman telling the crowd that the young boys left the competition 20 minutes in, that warnings have already begun to be handed out, that someone's ice-cream has melted. I want to look around, but I can't. I can hear the public around me. I feel like an animal in a zoo. The only marker of time is when a doctor approaches to measure my heart rate; I'm surprised to find the 15-minute increments feel shorter every time. Each time a doctor comes over, I know I'm closer to my goal – and my heart rate is steadily decreasing. I'm in the zone, baby. I raise my blue card once to ask for water, and my yellow one once for warmth, which turns out to be a small sock with a heat bag in it (not useful!). But after a while, doing nothing becomes quite pleasant. My mind is still not quite blank but I enter a liminal state. The sound of the crowd has become white noise. When the final whistle is blown, I'm shocked that it has been an hour and a half. I could happily have sat and done nothing for much longer. Alas, I do not place – the fountain lady, who admits that the trickling water in her costume was designed to make her fellow contestants need to pee, is declared the winner. I find out later via Instagram that she's been working on the costume for months, unlike mine, which I made in about two minutes. She deserves the win. But winning is kind of beside the point of the Space-out competition. I proudly tell my family that I managed to sit still and be quiet for 90 minutes straight in public. I won't get $100 from my mum for this but I finally won the bet, after all.
SBS Australia
09-06-2025
- Entertainment
- SBS Australia
'I do this s*** for a living': The competition that rewards you for doing absolutely nothing
The Space Out competition awards a winner who has the lowest heart rate and best costume. Source: SBS News / Madeleine Wedesweiler An engineer, a fountain with warm running water, a Japanese elder, two rival Teletubbies and an actual labrador — these were some of the "athletes" in the running for the winner of Melbourne's competition to be the best at doing absolutely nothing. The Space Out contest, part of the city's winter Rising Festival, crowns its champion based on who can maintain the lowest heart rate for 90 minutes, as competitors veg out in a public space. Participants have their heart rate measured by doctors every 15 minutes to capture their technical score, and can be awarded points for their costumes and vibe — their artistic score. There is a somewhat serious element along with the novelty. South Korean artist Woopsyang first ran the competition in Seoul in 2014 to make a statement about hustle culture and burnout. This year in Melbourne, with perhaps the most elaborate costume of the day and certainly the only to use running water and electricity, local puppeteer Amelia took home the winner's certificate, dressed as a fountain. Sitting in a pool of water for the event's duration, Amelia had two helpers heating the water with kettles to help manage the cold conditions caused by polar air across southeastern Australia. But the event's presenters speculated the water lowered her heart rate — cold water is known to slow the body's blood pressure and heart rate and can eventually lead to hypothermia and possibly death from prolonged exposure. "I chose to do a puppet that uses water as I think it is the laziest of all elements, t always finds the path of least resistance," Amelia told SBS News before the competition started. "My strategy is to imagine that I am a sea sponge." In her winner's speech Amelia dedicated the win to the fountain in her grandmother's garden. "It's where she likes to sit and experience serenity. [I dedicate this] to everyone here as well, we are all fountains from when we wake up and take a shower until, well, when we next take a shower." Runner-up was Anthony, a man who initially claimed to be an engineer and was dressed as one, but then said he lied and he's unemployed. Tiggolo, a retired seeing-eye dog, was awarded third place for his very low heart rate and zen nature. The black Labrador's owner said he was keen to chill out after his years of service, though around 5pm (his dinner time) he nearly lost composure, but gained it and stared deeply into her eyes. Another puppet costume, with a giant paper mache head that took two months to make, was awarded the "special prize". Participants were required to write a statement about why they were competing and audience members could place a vote on their answers in the form of red stickers. "Full time sofa coder. I do this shit for a living," one wrote. "ADHD sisters about to enter their mind palace," said another. "90 minutes of quiet dress ups and keeping kids entertained," said a clever parent. "I want to learn to space out to teach my children that it's already wonderful and valuable to just BE!" reads a much-stickered statement. Woopsyang cultivated an air of mystique, wearing sunglasses, a white, Korean hanbok-inspired dress and black hat, and silently walking onstage to unveil huge scrolls with messages for participants just before the competition starts. "Sometimes doing nothing can be the most powerful and valuable act," the first scroll reads. After she revealed all the scrolls and called sequined performer Gabi Barton onstage to lead some stretching, the still-silent Woopsyang rang a tiny bell into a microphone to commence the competition. Informed by hardcore work culture in some Asian countries, Woopsyang has toured the Space Out competition to other cities including Tokyo, Hong Kong and Shanghai — this is its first time in Australia. "Normally Asians think that Western people are very chilled and relaxed, have their nice lifestyle, but then when I came to Melbourne a few days ago and saw people coming and going and rushing, I figured out even in Melbourne, life is so busy and everyone is very overwhelmed," she told SBS News through an interpreter. Recent research indicates two in five Australian workers began 2025 already feeling burnt out, and 90 per cent of Australian employees feel that burnout is ignored until it becomes critical. Burnout is an "occupational phenomenon", not a medical condition, according to the World Health Organization's (WHO) 2019 definition. The WHO says it typically presents as exhaustion, negative feelings towards one's job, and reduced professional productivity. Woopsyang wanted the event to represent all different ages and professions, as though she was creating a miniature city where everyone was spacing out together. "Ten years ago when I was working as an artist, I felt so burnt out, and so overwhelmed. "I was interrogating myself: 'Why do I feel so much anxiety? Why can't I stop, why can't I pause?' "But then I thought everyone who surrounded me was still busy and doing other stuff and so I thought what if we all need to stop and then we can all take a break and recover," she said. Woopsyang said the Melbourne event is now her favourite and almost brought her to tears because of how well everyone performed, though the first iteration will always have a special place in her heart. But 10 years later, she says she's busier and has much less time to space out than ever before. Her own advice might be helpful for that — to find moments of appreciation, calm and stillness throughout the day, wherever you can. 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RNZ News
01-06-2025
- Entertainment
- RNZ News
Doing nothing becomes a competitive sport
A competition to see who's best at doing nothing will be one of the highlights at the Melbourne Rising Festival. The Space Out event will last 90 minutes and participants have to excel at doing nothing while treating it like a competitive sport. In a world that glorifies hustle culture and productivity, this is encouraging the opposite. First held in 2014, South Korean artist Woopsyang set up the exhibition when she herself was struggling with burnout. It has since gone viral around the world travelling to Taiwan, Rotterdam, Hong Kong, Tokyo and now Melbourne. The Rising Festival celebrates new art, music and performance in the city. Culture 101 speaks to co-artistic director, Hannah Fox, who saw the Space Out event in Tokyo and has brought it to Melbourne.
