curtains for sequences xi: can't see
linen fabrics
hand-dyed with plant matter
for the spatial design
of the art biennial
Reykjavík
2023
Can’t See is divided into four chapters, which will provide a glimpse into spaces and times that are not usually perceived by the human eye: from the depths of the sea and layers beneath the soil to the debris of the past and visions of the future. The stories are told from a range of perspectives, from hybrid birds to bacteria, sea creatures, an ancient tree or the ever blasting wind, aiming to present different ways of seeing and experiencing the world that detach from the numerous perspectives we are accustomed to. The moment in time is not fixed, allowing us to travel deep into the mythical past or imagine futures yet to come.
work commissioned by
Estonian Center for Contemporary Art (CCA)
exhibition curated by CCA
exhibition design and photos by Maria Luiga
This chapter opens its doors to the ground level. It’s an earthy, bubbling, crumbling surface, where an attentive observer might discover life in its various forms. Often not noticeable or known to people, life in the soil has its own cycles and rules. The soil level at Kling & Bang is as ruined as it is blossoming, it is both the apocalypse and the start of the new. The human-created garden has collapsed and is seeking its final destruction. New life forms are emerging inside a decaying tree trunk. Weird creatures crawl around the space, and yet to be seen landscapes mesmerise us with their stunning views.
chapter: soil
at Kling & Bang
curtains dyed with weld,
partially post-treated with ferrous sulfate
This is the subterranean underworld – the layers of terrestrial Earth revealing themselves. It is an environment where the processes of growth start and where they ultimately diffuse. As a mole, we dig ourselves through the pitch black tunnels, smelling the earth, decay and sulphurous compounds. Here is the huge dark Core of the Earth, slowly breathing and moving in its own rhythm; an altar for the underworld, made of clay; a painting born out of silt, gathered from a recent human-led catastrophe. The ground remembers, but it also absorbs, digests and finally loses all traces of what’s ever been.
chapter: subterrain
at The Living Art Museum
curtains dyed with cutch and madder, partially post-treated with ferrous sulfate
curtains for sequences xi: can't see
Reykjavík
2023
work commissioned by
Estonian Center for Contemporary Art (CCA)
exhibition curated by CCA
exhibition design and photos by Maria Luiga
Can’t See is divided into four chapters, which will provide a glimpse into spaces and times that are not usually perceived by the human eye: from the depths of the sea and layers beneath the soil to the debris of the past and visions of the future. The stories are told from a range of perspectives, from hybrid birds to bacteria, sea creatures, an ancient tree or the ever blasting wind, aiming to present different ways of seeing and experiencing the world that detach from the numerous perspectives we are accustomed to. The moment in time is not fixed, allowing us to travel deep into the mythical past or imagine futures yet to come.
chapter: soil
at Kling & Bang
curtains dyed with weld,
partially post-treated with ferrous sulfate
This chapter opens its doors to the ground level. It’s an earthy, bubbling, crumbling surface, where an attentive observer might discover life in its various forms. Often not noticeable or known to people, life in the soil has its own cycles and rules. The soil level at Kling & Bang is as ruined as it is blossoming, it is both the apocalypse and the start of the new. The human-created garden has collapsed and is seeking its final destruction. New life forms are emerging inside a decaying tree trunk. Weird creatures crawl around the space, and yet to be seen landscapes mesmerise us with their stunning views.
chapter: subterrain
at The Living Art Museum
curtains dyed with cutch and madder, partially post-treated with ferrous sulfate
This is the subterranean underworld – the layers of terrestrial Earth revealing themselves. It is an environment where the processes of growth start and where they ultimately diffuse. As a mole, we dig ourselves through the pitch black tunnels, smelling the earth, decay and sulphurous compounds. Here is the huge dark Core of the Earth, slowly breathing and moving in its own rhythm; an altar for the underworld, made of clay; a painting born out of silt, gathered from a recent human-led catastrophe. The ground remembers, but it also absorbs, digests and finally loses all traces of what’s ever been.