Yoon /jo n/ (n., Wolof): path; way; journey.

Where does a path begin? With the first step? Or with the countless lives that have already prepared the ground?

Before the traveller, there were others. A mother. A singer. A griot. A tassukat. A child listening. A voice carried on the wind. A gesture repeated until it no longer belonged to one person, but to many.

No path belongs to one body alone. It opens through encounters. Through movements. Through lives that touch one another, leaving traces that often go unnoticed. We rarely know where our gestures come from, or whose voices continue to resonate in our own. Yet they remain with us, quietly shaping the way we speak, create, gather and imagine the world.

Perhaps this is how culture moves. Not as inheritance, but as breath. Never still. Always passing from one life to another. Changing with every encounter while remaining part of the same current.

Yoon inhabits this movement. Djibril Dramé gathers fragments that have travelled across places, generations and experiences, allowing them to meet again. Photography, collage and print become spaces where images continue their journey rather than settle into fixed meaning. Nothing here asks to be preserved. Everything asks to remain alive.

Stories move. People move. Languages move. Songs move. And with them, so do we.