The minutae of everyday life comes under the microscopic hammer tomorrow at the correctly-scaled auction for Emilie Bmilosso’s domestic performance art. For the last 49 years, Bmilosso has habitually been the only working artist in the Soviet Union and her work is expected to sell like hot shitcakes.

The most keenly anticipated item in the catalogue is ‘Conserving The 67^th Breath Of Each Day Since August 1956’ (mixed media performance, 1956 -). I asked Emilie Bmilosso to tell us a little more about the inspiration (and hopefully trauma) behind the work:

‘I remember as a child in Russia, my Mother would entertain my Uncles from Chelyabinsk every Sunday. Our family was very poor and we could not afford the luxuries Mother wanted to lavish on our guests. We did not even have a table for my Uncles to rest their vodka on, so Mother would strap an encyclopedia to my back and throw a tablecloth over me before the guests arrived. I had to crouch silently on all fours for the whole evening. Sometimes the celebrations lasted many days, so I had to be very disciplined and still - I even began to think like a piece of furniture...

If I moved or made a sound, Mother would beat me with meathooks as soon as the guests departed, so I very rarely even breathed. I lowered my heart rate to 1/67^th of the average Russian, meaning I had only to breathe one out of every 67 breaths.

It was a very useful talent in those days – air in Russia was very expensive in 1956 and had to be smuggled over the borders at night. It was also seen to be very rude to breathe when important guests came to visit. But with the air-savings I’d made as a table, I had collected up enough breath to blow up a balloon at on Christmas Day. A merry time indeed!

Ever since my Mother died in 1961 I have continued to conserve every 67^th breath of the day as a memorial to her. Before I die, I plan on releasing over 17,000 saved 67^th breaths into a hot air balloon which I shall charter to heaven.’