Genius Loci
Session 1 Thu 24 Oct 2024
London, 24 October 2024
Annika Fernandes af
Chloé Monti cm
Lucia Santacroce ls
Mara Lamatic ml
Marie-Lyss Lecourt mll
Mehreen Waqar mw
Miranda Leung mstl
Sky Rose Grier-Harris srgh
Zara Ploskova zp
Vin Bhairo vb
Blinded by the sun left only with the sense of smell and that of sound. The grilling and crépitant meat that I hate the texture of, the pchhhhht of the frying food and the chit chat in languages that I can’t understand. The spices témoignant the culture that isn’t washed up in sweet curry and soggy chips make me wanna taste les mets that I cannot afford. We listen to the music playing out there while we get a taste of a falafel so crispy and fondant that warms me up from the British morning cold with its green curry. cm
As I walk down the street, the smell of freshly cooked food fills the air, coming from the busy market up ahead. The mix of grilled meats, spiced veggies, and baked goods wakes up my senses. The sun feels warm on my skin, its light giving me energy with every step. The morning is quiet, but the smells and sunshine make everything feel calm and alive, like the world is just starting to wake up with me. mw
The October sun is so soft and pleasantly warming....ooo that smell of exotic food is so amazing. It is making me hungry, but I am so full … all that colours. Can you imagine how impressive chopped vegetables can look like a sur realistic still live . And people, black, white, Asian, all speaking different languages. I am in London? I looked up, yes the skyscrapers were there … zp
As I walked towards the food stalls and market I could hear the workers speak in different languages, the environment seemed busy and the smell of the food made me hungry. In some stalls there was music playing to make it look lively.
As I was walking towards the art gallery I could see huge buildings pulling me in as they fold in over me and the leaves of the tree branches slowly drifting away. af
The area filled with the overpowering smoke directed by the wind, the amazing smell of food from different cultures was inviting me into a new experience. As I continued to walk I felt the buildings closing me in and the leaves off the tree branches slowly started drifting away. From the look of the trees, you can tell autumn is leaving and winter is quickly approaching. srgh
The noisy streets of Spitalfields market are surrounded and flooded with noises and smells, with ordinary and frenetic lives. It will be the last lights of October, the cold is taking away the uncertainty of summer, the colors of silence, a sense of nostalgia pervades. ls
● Movement
● Sizzle
● Dribble
● Chatter
● Music
● Collaboration
● People performing their daily habits
● A mixture of smells
● When you look straight ahead into the market the sun stands right in between two buildings, it shines very brightly and feels warm, I feel it adds to the environment. mll
un cântec vesel. S-a uitat la mine și am apucat să îl privesc în ochi preț de o secundă, pe urmă m-am uitat repede în altă parte, de parcă mi-ar fi fost rușine. M-am gândit și m-am întrebat de ce ar putea fi atât de binedispus – oare era fericit? Doi pași mai încolo strada începe să miroasă a zece feluri diferite în același timp: pui prăjit, roșii proaspăt făcute cubulețe, ceva dulce neidentificabil, ceai cu lapte. Nimic nu miroase întocmai familiar. Mă simt distantă de locul ăsta. M-am așezat pe marginea trotuarului, nu pot să scriu în picioare. Sunt conștientă de mine și de corpul meu fiindcă îl simt plin de încordare, ca de fiecare dată când am impresia că fac ceva greșit. Un camion dă cu spatele – piuie neîntrerupt și se apropie încet de mine. Oare nu mă vede? Trebuie să mă ridic; mă mut două mașini mai încolo. Acum mă bate soarele mai tare decât înainte, îl simt prin țesătura subțire a pantalonilor. Cineva așteaptă în picioare în spatele meu. Îl aud cum respiră. Simt trotuarul rece. Plec. Aici auzi avioane trecând la fiecare două minute. Îmi aduc aminte de cât de tare urăsc să zbor; va trebui să zbor în curând. ml
Against a bright blue sky with the top half of the Gherkin bearing upon us like a rocket about to set off, I started my stroll along Goulston Street, or shall I say Gourmet Street? Not yet filled with people as it normally is when I visit at lunch time, the preparation works at the stores were carried on at a leisurely pace, with many of the store owners staring or smiling at me but wondering what I was up to with a note book and staring at them. They were so curious that in the end, I had to tell them that I was admiring their colourful and beautiful pile of cut up vegetables and I was given a written assignment to note that down. They laughed, visibly relaxed!
Do I look like a health and safety inspector?
But I digressed because I really meant to note down the sense of smell which infiltrated my very being, from the fresh smell of the cut up vegetables mingled with the charcoaled scent of meat. It was enough to whet my appetite despite having just had breakfast.
What is most fascinating to me is the vibrant multi-cultural origins of the stores as evidenced by the ready made clues of their names: Burmese Street Food, Damascus Gate, Ethiopia
Vegan food, a taste of Egypt, Falafel King, Tikka Express, South Asian Food, Caribbean cuisine, a taste of West Africa, Mexican Station and many more. In this short stretch of street, a multi-ethnic culture thrives through the delivery of daily cuisine of their place of origin. What better way into a culture than food? I travel to places afar but they are all on my doorstep already. If only the countries in the world cohabit as harmoniously as these stores do … mstl * Metal
Crashendo’s
Bricks
Wired to the Sky
Shadows
Tell the time
Of the morning Moon
Setting up
The calm before the storm of lunch
The world cuisines
Tastes
Smelling the globe
Boxes unpack
Folding the air
To collide
With barbecued smoke
As the Sun centers stage
The rolling of tourists
Suitcase
At the pace of ease
The aroma of food
Desires a longer stay
Though the next destination awaits
As
The empty roads
Show shadows of smoke
Diluted of queues of shoes
Showing opening times
Are behind
The state of the stomach
Streets strain
For the abundant colour
That will show Shortly
As the morning morphs Into the day
vb
Green. Green hallway. Green room. Frogs. Brekekekex coax coax as they would write in Ancient Greece. A soft squishy ground that isn’t grounding. I’m jumping around and around and Around without getting anywhere. Am I the frog? cm
I came across an interesting artwork—A4 sheets of paper taped to the wall, each one covered with images and filled with countless tiny holes, almost as if they had been pierced with toothpicks. The holes gave the pieces a textured, delicate look, creating shadows on the paper when sunlight streamed in from a nearby window. The light played a key role, casting soft, shifting patterns across the wall and adding a new dimension to the simple materials. It felt like the sun itself was interacting with the art, giving it life in a quiet, understated way. mw
It is so intriguing to wander into someone’s flat which is above a museum/art gallery or is it part of the gallery as it says exhibition continues on the top floor. Intriguing I say because I could not make out how I felt, as I was assaulted by such a mixture of feelings – the feeling of disorientation, bewilderment, a sense of mystery, a sense of fear of the unknown, a strong sense that I am intruding even though I was invited in mingled with a feeling that I should explore more. But what is the rope doing dangling in the corridor? Does it give me the means to escape from the skylight? Hang in there, I say to myself and strolled into the living room. After trying to anchor myself by reading the leaflet, I focus on the accordion of the photo album on the coffee table and I know why. It gave me an idea how I can string a narrative
together in a current piece I am making in a simple but effective way. But I wondered whether the photos are related to Rebecca. Isn’t it strange that the brain is always looking for connections? mstl
The abstract that covered the walls on the second floors, was full of patterns overlapping each other using a shading technique with the materials that look like pencil. The contrast subtle colours in the image drew me in. srgh
Lanes meander
Close to each other
Between builders
Passers by
Workgoers
Late runners
And the dusty clouded
Bright blue sky
Cream windows
Muted roses
Transexual Moon Shadow
Wooden trapdoor
Wings of silver
Shallowly shutter
In a quiet void
Were air is rich
Yet still
Extraordinary visionaries
Be schizophrenic
Have no fear
Musically
Birds fish
Tight stairs
Pinned with rails of solitary
Carpeted walkways
Exude a cleanliness
Only acceptable
When married with quietness
Wooden floors
Hold ears
To hear
Embroided power
Fire place
Broken with stone
2
Sensored babies
Trapped in time
Slowly discover
Each other
Illuminated by the chew
Of balls of light
Upon an imprinted play mat
Leading to windows
And painted rainbows
To explore
Perspective and sounds
From the unknown
In circles of innocence
Communicate through touch
And sonic wonder Of each other
The cries of restriction
Begin to reach
A point of tears
As the joy of holding hands
Continues to blossom connection
Or perhaps
A plot to escape
Escaped confinement
Delivers liberation in connection
3
All that is Is magic
The Earth
The Moon
The Aether
I want to experience myself
Through you vb
A small piece of work which draws you in which requires you to take a step forward. This piece feels familiar to me it takes me to a place of fulfillment and interconnectedness. ml
Plânsete de bebeluș. Ceva din adâncul meu mă îndeamnă să plâng și eu. Am nevoie de asta. Simt că am nevoie de asta. Am nevoie să lovesc două jucării una de cealaltă, să vorbesc fără să fiu înțeleasă și totuși să fou iubită, să aibă cineva grijă să dorm, să mănânc. Să nu știu cine sunt sau pe ce lume trăiesc și totuși să mă simt ușoară. De ce trebuie să fie atât de greu? De ce nu pot să fiu iar un bebeluș?
Bebelușii se agită în scăunele. Se întind unul după celălalt. Se privesc în ochi fără niciun fel de judecată.
Vreau să înțeleg lumea ținând în mână o jucărie albastră moale. Am aproape 19 ani și sunt singură și nu am o jucărie albastră moale și nu ar fi acceptabil să o țin în brațe când merg cu metroul.
Ce e atât de tulburător la un bebeluș chel, cu bale în jurul guriței și un pampers plin? Trezește ceva în mine și vreau să știu doar ce am în fața ochilor. ml
*
Ah, such an a extreme contrast:
Dead and alive
Dry and fresh
Concrete underneath it is a bit cold in there
Stairs, soft carpet, whiteness … silence
Victorian fireplace and nicely creaking wooden flooring –it’s so warm and cozy
Going up
Ooo that carpet could kill me … art deco furnitures mixed
with modern art, and someone speaks Portuguese, what a craziness.
Three levels and completely different associations and sensations, remarkable walk in time and space. zp
Fast-moving blades
There were blades moving fast in an empty room, there were exactly 5 of them, the installation was created in 2023 by an artist from Los Angeles, I found it interesting for the words projected between the blades, some of which had no precise meaning, others fueled by a provocative sense
You told me once/
You didn’t know/
That word/
Obliterated/
I sent you back/
A whirl wind picto/
You told me once \ we only escape
The law in / burst of light
I am relieved at the thumb that comes out clean one split open connected to the wrist
Empty of bones / one wet sac hands cover your face in anguish
Spinning faster a voice / it whispers
To you I am alive / you are dead ls
The different sound of footsteps coming towards me, some loud some not, the pages changing the typing from laptops was all heard from a distance. I tuned into every little detail which was hard when your in a place the is in complete silence, everybody around you is focused. srgh
The tall buildings around me cast long shadows, making the air cooler in their shade. Leaves fall slowly from the trees, scattering across the pavement. I can hear the crunch of dry leaves under my feet, adding a little noise to the otherwise quiet street. The city feels alive in its own way, with the buildings towering above and a cool autumn breeze swirling through the streets. mw
This place feels desolate and eerie when not in use Persistent sound of a buzzing light
This place looks overused and like it could do with some work however I feel it’s actually underused. I like how alone I feel when I sit in this room i feel like I have to face my fears because I really want to leave when I sit in here due to how dingy it is. mll
Este dezastru în studio. Trebuie să fac curat în haosul de pe masă, de sub masă, de pe scaune și de pe pereți. Aici mă simt de parcă aparțin. E soare afară. Bate prin stratul subțire de nori ce plutește cu repeziciune deasupra Londrei. Ridic privirea către un avion comercial - aterizează. Mă uit la el și clipesc. Aș vrea să nu mai deschid ochii. Urăsc să zbor. Aș vrea să fiu (din nou) doar un copil. Aș vrea să simt că sunt acasă și, într-un fel fragmentat, discret, simt. Sunt acasă
peste tot. Când o să ajung înapoi în cameră o să plâng.
Lângă geam tremură crengile unui copac verde. Nici nu l-am observat până acum. ml
After a morning
Of liquidity
Water Juice And Coffee
The hum of lights
In the empty toilets
Caresses the orchestra
Of urine
That resets relief
vb
*
It’s hard to think of a university space right now, visualizing it means living with it, and it might seem intriguing and stimulating at the same time; there seems to be no time to think about what is happening wrapped up in that space; succede, succede e bast. ls
What a fabulous journey I have got....it reminds me how much I am in love with London. How inexhaustive is this city. How you can feel, taste and experience all the entire world here. Working for five minutes I was passing through times and countries. zp
Sat on the bathroom floor. The one for disabled people. The one that doesn’t lock. I’m a disabled people. Why do I have to get up and down the stairs all the time; interrupting other students lectures when I can’t.
Remnants of your hair on the floor. You cut mine. I cut yours. Chop Chop. Laughing and hoping for the best. Trusting you with my identity like I trusted my sister. Away from our blood we create our on family, hung on your wall as a tree. Black and white, Yin Yang, yet we’re the same. cm
I love this area, what can I say. Perhaps I would feel differently if it is not a sunny day and strolling around and looking at everything that goes on in the street, the shops and stopping by a gallery would not be as much fun or as exciting. So much is simply happening out there around us, if only we take the time to stop and see and feel. But I think I have gone a long way from the days when I would not or could not enjoy stopping and seeing, unless I call it a ‘holiday‘ or a ‘trip.’ But that is another story. mstl