PORTABLE ISOLATION UNIT
THE DAZZLING LIGHT BACK
www.interno4.org www.portableisolationunit.com
Interno4
Ideazione grafica:
Edito e prodotto da:
con il supporto di:
19 / 22 Aprile 2012
Portable Isolation Unit The Dazzling Light Back
Anna Hughes would like to thank Artericambi, and Galleria Bianca, Palermo. Clémence Grieco would like to thank le conseil des arts et des lettres du Québec, for his support in realizing this project. Very special thanks go to Interno4.
Clémence Grieco, Wesley Goatley, R.M. Phoenix and Anna Hughes, met in April 2011 and quickly developed a shared enthusiasm for each other’s work and ideas. Through email and private online forum, we developed something akin to a self-initiated placeless residency, all living in different parts of the world. With discussions that grew to over 1000 emails over the course of a few months and many more meetings and discussions over the year to come, we were able to examine and understand the nature of each other’s work, influences and ideas, as well as questions surrounding the potential of an exhibition outside of and beyond what normally constitutes a group show. Continually in the process of development and exploration, we brought our separate artistic practices together under the collective name Portable Isolation Unit. We present our work in exhibitions, publications, performances and related events, in specific locations, maintaining focus upon our continuing conversation to direct the outcome. This provides us with different contexts within which to present the work and ideas that arise from our conversations, galvanizing further exploration, discussion and collaboration between us, and through this giving us a deeper understanding of our individual practices. ‘The Dazzling Light Back’ reflects upon the cyclical waxing and waning of light and dark within the thought processes that direct our creative output. Looking to Friedrich Nietzsche’s concept of ‘the eternal return’ we address its implications as a thought experiment and his theories of this as the ultimate affirmation of life. Nietzsche considered the concept of eternal recurrence as “the greatest weight”, the overcoming and embracing of this being the key to his development of an anti-nihilist theory. The understanding and interpretation of life’s weight, and the methods we individually use to overcome and embrace this, have been a recurring concept in our discussions as a group, and in our personal work. The exhibition at Interno4 will explore this in the form of new works in painting, sound, sculpture, and photography.
“Time is infinite, but the things in time, the concrete bodies, are finite. They may indeed disperse into the smallest particles; but these particles, the atoms, have their determinate numbers, and the numbers of the configurations which, all of themselves, are formed out of them is also determinate. Now, however long a time may pass, according to the eternal laws governing the combinations of this eternal play of repetition, all configurations which have previously existed on this earth must yet meet, attract, repulse, kiss, and corrupt each other again…” Heinrich Heine
Friedrich Nietzsche
“If you incorporate the thought of thoughts within yourself it will transform you. The question in everything that you want to do: “is it the case that I want to do it countless times?” is the greatest weight…My Doctrine says: the task is to live your life in such as way that you have to want to live again – you will in any case! If striving gives you the highest feeling, then strive; if rest gives you the highest feeling, than rest; if fitting in, following, obedience gives you the highest feeling, then obey. Only make sure you become of aware of what gives you the highest feeling and then stop at nothing! Eternity is at stake!”
“What, if some day or night a demon were to steal after you into your loneliest loneliness and say to you: ‘This life as you now live it and have lived it, you will have to live once more and innumerable times more’ ... Would you not throw yourself down and gnash your teeth and curse the demon who spoke thus? Or have you once experienced a tremendous moment when you would have answered him: ‘You are a god and never have I heard anything more divine.” Friedrich Nietzsche
Atmosphere and environment have formed the centre of every piece of my work – the creation of a distinct space, invisible but keenly felt, hauntological. Hearing and sound are key memory anchors, instant transporters to a personal world at their best, and a maddening curse at their worst. A soundscape’s invisibility to the naked eye is the key to its power to move us, the imagination of the listener given huge potential to extrapolate sights, depth, and meaning from sound, based on the interior landscape of the unknowable subconscious. These intensely personal, unpredictable factors are the root of my interest in generative sound (music generated by a system or process initiated but not actively controlled by the composer) – bringing an organic evolving element to the sometimes cold and surgical feeling digital media. We are truly fortunate to be living in an age where technology has created both new horizons for the exploration of sound, and made accessible techniques and technology previously available only to a privileged few. With this comes a responsibility to keep in sight the original spirit of the work - regardless of any technical factors, there is a song, and it remains a song for as long as the power is on and the speakers move air. The generative system allows the atmosphere within to expand, contract, and move in new directions with each moment; shifting organically (or chaotically, depending on interpretation), in parallel to the natural systems which inspired it. Dynamic potential not only in development but also in the interpretation of this work is my goal, inviting the listener to create what they will from the framework of the piece, providing a moment of release from the external, and into the far more expansive realm of the inner. WG
A Moment’s Respite In The Rustling Of The Boughs
‘In October 2011 I left London to live with my partner in a fairly remote part of the North Wales countryside. I am now surrounded by trees, wood, material, everywhere. Three weeks after I moved, while working on converting the caravan that has become our home, I accidentally stabbed myself in the eye, collapsing my eyeball and permanently impairing my vision. I can see well enough now to drive, and to work, but the vision in my right eye is blurred and my pupil is scarred and unable to control the amount of light it lets in. The worst part is that it makes it hard to easily look at the view, at the incredible landscape that surrounds me, especially on sunny days, or if there is snow on the ground. My environment and my perception of it has changed. What I make, and why I make it, is changing also.’ RMP
“The profound emotional shock at the thought: “Yes! I am worthy of living! Life and you and all of us became interesting again to ourselves once again for a little while!”
Friedrich Nietzsche
The Dazzling Courage of Seeing
He was 8. His mind already full of requirements, pain was his way of defence. A place where, at least, he felt something. One day, lying down in the grass, facing the sun, he closed his eyes. The light pierced his eyelids. Dazzled by pleasure and fear, he saw the shimmering reflection of his skull. Overexcited by a sudden and intense awareness, he felt part of this nature, of this continuous cycle. Never had he been so receptive of his being. Becoming a stone warmed up by the sun till the next shadow of clouds. This moment! On his way back, he looked at the landscape. Cured of his blindness.
CG
AH
T houg hts cr ystallise and slide once more into t he oily mass of time falling and time recur r ing.
of ancestr y and stars unbor n and bor n again
Forced teardrops t winned and bound in a tig ht and airless lig ht, g leaming. Forged eter nal, to count impr isoned grains
In one clear shard of cr ystalline time.
Two tr iang les inverse in t he redhot whistle of a fur nace piping. Yellow sands molten, blasted and blown, No division gauged bet ween matter and t houg ht
and slip into t he silence of a measured loss, hissing.
A lean mean vessel of ancient ocean’s sand, rocks its vacuous mout h sucking and spitting t he life t hat slumbers in an unsuspecting cove. Goldens, browns and greys spill out from its tear y hollow,
Hourg lass