We’re drawn to the moments where history and the present sit close — close enough to reveal what’s changed, and what hasn’t.
When Nationalmuseum opened their exhibition on Gustav Badin, we ended up in a quiet but intense team conversation. Not about “what’s next,” but about what’s still here. We kept circling the same truth: Badin’s story isn’t just history — it’s an early blueprint of how power works through the body. How you can be read, placed, and controlled before you’ve even spoken.
That’s how we landed on I Don’t See Color, and why it felt essential to place it right beside Badin’s exhibition. Back then, power was performed out loud. Today it moves with softer shoes — but it still arrives the same way: on skin, on posture, on the assumptions people make before you’ve said a word.
We brought Liban’s visual universe into the museum’s rooms and let it meet Yasin’s voice. His unreleased music became the pulse of the installation — shifting the space from “exhibition” into presence. Something you don’t just look at, but feel with you as you leave.
Because the duality is still with us: how certain bodies and voices can be lifted by the people, carried by culture — and still be limited by the systems around them.
Visit the Gustav Badin exhibition at Nationalmuseum for more history and depth on ”Couchin”.
Artwork by
@liban.se
Music by
@twogunkid163
Creative direction by TCK / Liban /
@klaradjamilakassmansoukkan
Tattoo workshop by
@allegratattoo_
Exhibition film by
@isco07s 
