March 10, 2023 - April 10, 2023
In the aftermath of the pandemic, ‘ghosts’ haunt our landscapes, our
world has wobbled on its axis and become
unstable. In this illogical world transparent
fish share the ocean with satellites and space probes, devices that have
travelled across the dark realms of unknown galaxy’s.
Across vast arcs of time and space, ships from the past float across the surface.
They are blown across a narrow band that
is both sea and a bandage to dress a wound.
These ghostly ships connect the twenty-first century to the seventeenth,
between them lies our bodies, our faces, our eyes, doubly invisible.
In the night sky shimmering owls
on the hunt fly across the pages of an open
book, as bats use soundwaves to mark their space. The text is from
Michel Foucault’s chapter Las Meninas, the first chapter in his book The
Order of Things. The words become part of the night sky through which the
owl flies, over which the fish leap. Like the owls and bats that haunt our
dreams in Goya’s The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters, these
creatures from the imagination defy reason as the natural order of things. The
owl hovers for a moment, motionless, suspended, caught in a moment of
stillness.
In the top panel constellations
seen from the southern hemisphere connect star to star, the horse Pegasus
beckons to leaping Pisces; a hunter, Orion, aims it arrow at a running dog ,
Canis Minor; and Leo, the lion constellation confronts the pincers of the crab,
Cancer.
Between the sea and the sky, lie the open pages of a book, with words that reveal that in the midst of this dispersion spreading out before us is an essential void.
