Next pixelated food container done!
Shut inside my apartment, awaiting better days, I bead the cans before I eat them.
To be continued.
Outside Border, part 2: the objects.
1. All that lost potential
Even without violence, time slowly shuts you down. It deposits layers of leftovers from the borders you couldn’t cross. Rust spreads, corrodes and buries you, makes you useless. Not crossing means you are stuck, closed out and closed in at the same time.
2. All those dreams
In the game of acting yourself every day, where do we keep the things we save for later? The ageing dreams and the abandoned plans. Where do the unused end up when we forget about it? When we give it up.
3. All the perspectives
The cost of sorting is paid by the sorted – placed in a category that shapes who they can be. But also by everyone else, when all the problems they could have solved go unsolved.
New project, made in response to an exhibition invitation from curator Winnie Pelz. Part 1: the process.
“The European colonists created an egg without a chicken, a logical absurdity repeated across the continent and one that continues to haunt it.” Tim Marshall, Prisoners of Geography
What is this island I stand on? And what is the rescue I’m hoping for? I’m waiting. To be useful. To cross the border. To be whatever “me” is.
What is the cost of drawing a line?
Without the right key
you’re stuck between doors
rusting while waiting.
all the doors we could have opened
no longer apply.
I have been four people in this project. The explorer, the introvert, the organizer and the corpus maker.
The explorer is the one traveling the ocean, looking at the world with curiosity and deciding to own it. Ruthless science and colonialism: to do because we can, or to do to find out if it can be done.
One of the most common questions I got during the exam exhibition was what material the branch is made of. When I answered “raw hide… skin”, the asker’s look changed and they just had to ask “human skin?”. I wonder how we can be explorers without being colonizers.
“The travelable distance”
The introvert is the one remembering that we might sleep half a meter away from another person, but a wall of concrete make us exist in different worlds. We are only aware of the neighbours upstairs when they are disturbing us, we co-exist at a distance and agree to pretend that someone else will save the world.
“The apartment next to theirs” (left) and “If they weren’t made to be empty” (right)
The organiser is the one documenting and collecting. Sorting the world and combining the fragments into our preferred version of reality. Ideally I would like my work to meet an audience slowly and quietly, like the way you find lost things in the attic and you wonder who they used to belong to.
“Our preferred version of reality”
The corpus maker is the one placing the borders around pieces of emptiness, the definer of inside and outside. Possibly even the creator of inside and outside, since neither of them can exist without the meeting place that is the border.
“The only other piece of land”
Exam presentation set up.
Exam exhibition with cast concrete floor and 4 of 7 pieces.
Done. Next project.
When you make a container you place borders around pieces of emptiness. The emptiness is given shape and becomes a space inside the border.
This space is often used to protect or separate matter of different value from each other or to sort the world to make it easier for us to use. For instance keeping the sugar from being mixed with all the other things on the table until we decide the time has come to mix them, or separating the bones of a saint from all mundane materials inside a reliquary, or building walls to make sure people stay in there assigned places.
In short: to protect what is contained against unwanted influences or to contain and isolate what is unwanted.
The border (the material divider) can itself be used to tell you something of what it encloses and how important it is, and also if it is closing something in or closing something out. But can it also contain the movement between the inside and the outside?
In theory the island has a clearly defined border. But where is it? The shoreline? In that case: low or high tide? Stormy weather or calm waves? Do the rivers belong to the island or to the ocean? And what about islands that are connected during low tide but separated during high tide?
Line: shellac and steel
Tunnel: shellac and fabric
Ocean: shellac and concrete
Tunnel with hand: shellac, fabric and hand
Melting: shellac and fabric
The amazing beauty of shellac in sunlight