A day in the studio with Myrgon

We are back with a new film, starring the artist Myrgon and his earthly perfomance we have shot in India last month.

Film, edit and text by Alex Schuchmann

The Greek artist, who has spent much of his adult life moving between the beaches of his home country and the restless energy of cities like Berlin and Athens, invited us to meet him in another part of Goa, as it happened that we were both traveling through India at the same time. It felt like a moment of synchronicity. I had wanted to work with Myrgon ever since I first encountered his work at Waking Life Festival in Portugal in 2024. What I witnessed there felt unlike anything I had seen before. It unfolded more like a ritual than a performance, something existing on the threshold between the visible and the unseen. It felt at once familiar and entirely unknown. I couldn’t tell whether the human behind the clay mask was performing, or whether the persona itself had taken over. For nearly an hour, I sat there, completely mesmerized. By the end, he had drawn the entire crowd from inside the tent into a slow procession toward a gigantic egg structure built on the festival grounds, as if summoned by some unseen force. Nearly two years later, the experience find its continuation on a beach in the north of Goa.

The name Myrgon itself carries a story. It was given to him by a witch he befriended in Athens years ago, a constructed name that holds both “Myr” from his surname and a resonance with the idea of an entity in Greek. It serves as a vessel, a stage identity through which he can step beyond Gregoris, his given name. Though perhaps “stepping beyond” is not quite accurate. When he speaks about entering this state, he describes it as a process of digging inward, into the subconscious, until reaching something like a root. His primary medium is clay, drawn directly from the natural world. When we met in Arambol, at a café called Dancing Goats, he carried a simple plastic bag slung over his shoulder, filled with locally sourced earth. This would later become the material for the performance we filmed that same day. Despite describing himself as uncomfortable with words or speaking on camera, we spent hours in conversation about trance states, about how it all began with intricate figurines he used to shape as a child from cheese paper and wax, and about the fragile condition of both the human and natural worlds today. It was a rare kind of day, unhurried, open, and deeply human. I came away with a sense of someone striving to communicate something that exists beyond language. Something that perhaps cannot be fully expressed, but can be felt. Through his embodiments of creatures, gods, and mythological forms, Myrgon reaches toward that space, offering not explanations, but sensations.

We hope that this 13-minute film carries at least a trace of that experience.