Immersive Installation work with mobiles, light and sound, created in late spring of 2019, in collaboration with Tarik Haskic.
The video is a short documentation of the work the first time it was exhibited.
The two spoken word sound pieces used in this project, one created by Alice Karveli and one by Tarik Haskic, are made up of series of connected chapters of dream-journey inspired prose and poetry.
You can listen to the one by Alice Karveli, from the sound cloud box bellow, followed by the text to follow along if you so wish.
I was a Multitude…
my eyes could see only from one
one moving Body, one moving vantage point…
yet I could feel from beyond,
and at all times
all the rest of my bodies
In Dark silhouettes we were flying across the fluid hilltops
with hopes to converge into a vague centre
but it was not about meeting
it was more about feeling
the space between
as we traced its edges and tasted its qualities.
And we were all singing… emanating frequencies
creating sound, becoming sound, morphing sound, embodying sound …
inside our dream veins liquified… and woven
in living-breathing latticework… of lifelines connecting
running along criss-cross paths upon an undulating landscape
of melting hills and trees dancing in the background
The abstract Chaos pattern of the perpetually transforming schematic, self-organising in my Hive Mind
manifested through dark shadow bodies echoing each other
in an effort to trace the space within this greater Vessel… of ours
and at the same time creating it
The thinking cells of an organism trying to understand itself by following a ray of Light
endlessly refracted into an a-canonical Mirror room
with each mirror constantly shifting and moving in space,
It is as though it is trying… frantically,
in existential desperation
to gather its parts together
and beam itself back to Source,
without knowing exactly how
just being completely immersed in the exertion of its efforts,
trying to hit every possible angle in its reach
PART 2: Hive Mind Taking Over
The sky hung huge overhead. Full of white slashes cutting through it, separating its colours
...like all the planes had been on the warpath.
And the big Hive mind was taking over - all of its parts.
Leading them to Annihilation through assimilation… and whether there was redemption waiting there beyond that point - I could not tell.
But the feeling was foreboding.
Like an Invisible tidal wave it chased us throughout the Landscape:
The me and the You that sought escape were relentless…in our frantic running.
Through fields of open sky we could see the birds align themselves above us in strange new ways
vein-like formations, leading towards Indeterminate - yet certain d o o m.
And in the hills below… strings of animals coiling - tentacle-like
and streaming towards a magnetic pull beyond the horizon.
It had them
Through cities peopled at high cost, we ran
and in our fleeing, from the corners of our eyes we saw - the multitudes of Others… integrated and aligned,
marching in neatly streamlined mechanical rows… like insect soldiers tuned to the call of their Great Queen.
In a sudden moment the Thing had me…. Central nervous system held hostage by an iron grip, in an involuntary process of alignment.
Spine arching backward in a helplessness - that nonetheless
the Self in me stubbornly… refused to accept.
Still fighting. Always fighting
- a fight internal for all that freedom was ever worth to a living Self.
It seems the most important endeavour of our kind
Is to break free from mind-shackles; cruelly worn and ruthlessly binding us together.
But the struggle against seemingly unbreakable bonds will surely make them hurt more… with no guarantee it’s not a mere exercise in futility.
The other Voice Within promises
Our only relief feels something like freedom
And the only freedom from this Fight, is in Surrender
At least it’s a good thing, there is no Forever.
But for now - the Fight - is still on.
PART 3: Battlescars
Sweating teeth sink into the heart of feeling
[ - I am a feeling machine - ]
Hungry and desperate and fearful…
there will be nothing left
to tear at the End.
Stepping back transfixed
in from the edges of this perennial battlefield
[ - I am a breathing machine - ]
Inhaling the Lonely
Fabricated in the bile-seasoned stomachs of the once-lost
that have now learned their lessons
meekly wearing them in scars across their skin…
Take pride in survival
but never the War
Take pride in S u r v i v a l
but never the W a r
This score can never settle
as long as there is wanting to feel
PART 4: The Cleansing
We were phase-changing
Flickering through different beds and nesting places…
a montage in crossfades; appearing into one
while disappearing from another
each of them saturated with a distinctly different feeling
a fragile sense of ephemeral safety and comfort linking them
across the vast precarious land-and-time scapes of impermanence…
all of them dense in memory and energy filled objects
all of them we had to leave - always in transit - perpetually
floating between worlds
uncertainty was not the enemy though… we had to surf and slide
on its uneven surface
as water flows on rock,
and sea mammal on water.
Then when the call was heard
and we were ready
the water came
to perform the cleansing:
a long time we had waited, longed for it. and now
the time had come
in a large industrial dream-space
with huge dirty glass windows up to the high high ceiling
letting in the cold clean light
to distil our essence
The grime and the purity existing simultaneously in the space around us….
reflecting as it did the truth of the space within us
encased as we were in concrete, glass and metal
as we often are in waking life…
there was so much room to dance within
and with each other
circling and spinning
around the axis of each one and round the one in-between us
naked and freed and purifying
from indoor shower-rains pouring
from above… falling from the high high ceilings
laughing in wild abandon, locked in trance….dance