Everyone knows, you can’t predict an earthquake.
It’s terrifying to look at the present and recognize that rather than ending this kind of violence we have democratized it.
I was baffled by two things: one, that God would be calling me,
I wouldn’t say I see anything to lead me to believe that this is a different kind of cycle
in voice-over: “Now it’s time to open a second parenthesis, and to describe the emotions of the characters.” It cuts out three more times,
objects that then reshape themselves or self-assemble over time
So on my way home I get off at Pearse. an unusual stop for me. Walk in. End up in Sweny’s a magical old chemist bookstore. It seems like it would have a hand. I go in and look around. It is wonderful. Old bottles. Wood shelves. Books about fragments of an old but disused chemist. Two gentlemen one orderly the other rather non description but covert. The older chap starts in about Walsh from my asking about the day it being Easter and how was business. He proceeds to go into some depth but is far over my head and I have no idea what this clerk with Bow tie, white lab coat and Dali like facial hair is recalling. History of the Walsh. CUT He then explains they do Joyce readings there and points to chairs lined up with cushions behind the counter. CUT I ask if they by chance have a spare hand for me. He then reaches or my third hand and examines it. Detailing or rather reading it. It is an artistic hand he indicates knowingly. You can tell by the two centre fingers pointing inward of each other. The line at the base of the thumb where he points and says this line means a medium will be located. I fade as he twists the hand round and says something followed by this means they are intelligent. He states a few other observations. He finally is reading my palm. He looks at my hand and re states the previous…
A beauty is not suddenly in a circle. It comes with rapture. A great deal of beauty is rapture. A circle is a necessity. Otherwise you would see no one. We each have our circle.
On Voice and Language addresses the uncanny, irritating or comical moments produced by the human voice and language. This selection of performances, videos and web projects lets spectators experience the emotional, social and political potential of the voice. How is the voice connected to the body and identity of the individual? What happens when the spoken word detaches itself from the speaker, the text from its meaning, the sound from the image? What if the voice no longer belongs to the body from which it emanates? The artists in this exhibition listen to ventriloquists and voice-over artists as well as propagandists and preachers. They explore and re-enact historic and contemporary speech acts, probing the emotional and spiritual effect of the vocal power and word games, and playing with shifts of meaning and identity. While doing so, they also experiment with the various media used to record, reproduce or silence the voice.
There is something regarding ‘displacement’ at play within the works that leaves one disconcerted.
Let me (or you) listen to me (or you) and not to them (the audience).
An audience is always warming but it must never be necessary to your work.
It is funny how language is refused and then indicated as a structure for its refusal. Not much refusing really.
Expectations. What people are accustom to and come to be comfortable with. The interviewer reveals as much by the questions they ask as the interviewee declares through their response. Spaulding Gray would get people from the audience and basically interview/talk with them. This could be a means to disrupt the situation of the “artist talk” and the parameters around what has come to frame it. I suppose I have a tendency to establish a scenario where its very nature demarks it’s objective and its devised so that it can be interjected and have its trajectory malleable by these gestures. But don’t think this is any way a means of sidestepping definition but a communal space where we can all speak and create meaning together.
I am affected. It’s in equal parts. That is the objective.
light discussions on the subject matter of imagining an imaginary menagerie manager imagining managing an imaginary menagerie
What else can a thought be but caught between things? It seems inherent within language itself.