IT’S TIME

IT’S TIME
Performance by Sofia Mobilia
Sat, July 12, 2025 | 4 PM (STR) / 7 AM (CA)
In the courtyard of the Academy of Fine Arts in Stuttgart, I’m in the middle of a conversation with friends and fellow students when, at 3:55 pm, my phone alarm rings - the starting shot of my performance.
I’m dressed simply in black shorts and a black top. With me, I carry a bag of clothes and a portable speaker. Through a VPN connection to California, I tune in to the San Diego radio station I listened to throughout my two exchange semesters there.
While the radio fills the courtyard, I unpack pieces from my California bag – clothes I wore in San Diego – and put them on, one after another: my San Diego State University shirt, my vintage corduroy pants, the cowboy boots I danced in at line-dance nights, my 80s leather jacket, and finally the sailing cap from my host mum’s regatta, paired with the sunglasses I picked up on a road trip through Arizona and Utah. This was the exact outfit I last wore on the streets of California in late May – complete, of course, with my beloved analog film camera.
But what is really happening here? The title of the performance leaves room for multiple interpretations.
It is time to get up – quite literally. With the nine-hour time difference, it’s morning on the other side of the world: the moment to wake up, get dressed, and start the day. But also, in a metaphorical sense: life goes on. Returning home after building new structures, routines, and personal growth abroad is never seamless. And yet, the transformation persists day by day – within oneself, through memory, souvenirs, and the skills and knowledge acquired. Old and new merge into something else. A running-on process.
The desire to go back – to book the next flight – or simply to close one’s eyes and listen, to feel the warmth of textures, to drift. Thoughts jump between realities. Emotions shift over time. Does homesickness drift away? Letting go and holding on, in constant alternation. Saying goodbye while arriving anew.
Often, we slip back into our memories without anyone noticing. Here, the audience notices. But only those who know my story truly understand what is happening. For others, it might feel confusing, even uncomfortable, to witness personal thoughts and feelings made visible in public space.
When is something performed, acted?
Almost always. We hide behind smileys in text messages, even in face-to-face conversations, pretending to feel what is expected of us.
Except in that one moment – when I let myself fall, Fall into the Sun. It’s the title of my favorite song. A song I switched to after finishing dressing. A song I played endlessly during my stay, one I even heard live in California.
This performance was also a process to move through my inner feelings, accepting them, and showing them as they are – regardless of what friends, family, professors, colleagues, or strangers of all ages might think.
And what happens after someone interrupts by switching off the speaker?
That’s when I open my eyes and, for the first time since the beginning of the performance, meet the gaze of my audience.
In a society where time is such a dominant force, this performance deliberately takes its time. It slows down, becoming a space for processing and transformation – both emotionally and temporally. The form mirrors the content. And for a final twist, the documentation is set to play again in California.
Website: www.sofiamobilia.com
Instagram: sofiamobilia.art
E-Mail: sofiamobilia@web.de








