INTERLOCUTION
At First, You will close your E Y E S
Directing water into a dew point – incremental repetition, a long duration performance and an installation piece . Films, text, drawings merge with live-action to turn the space at Toynbee Studios into a cave like environment where spells are broken. The performance is divided into 30 minute slots. Six members of the audience were invited during each slot to experience/ participate in an intimate space together with the artist in order to create a collective imagining of a healing space. The visitors are encouraged to bring a stone or a pebble of any size they may feel fit to carry during their visit. Stone acts as a metaphor for a painful burden. There is no real scale to measure the pain. Pain is immeasurable in all its forms. The pain of loss is the worst – loss of active body, loss of freedom, identity, and self. And yet we must scale it, lift it, lower it, lighten it. Deriving from a point of widespread despair, mental illness, disconnectedness and spiritual loss, this space was aimed to create a space for collective mourning and re-imagining of a stronger moral strength.
I have combined several works under this one page. Primarily because the material for these various works were all generated during the same time. Since then the ideas, images or text has moved on morphing into further new bodies of work.
Technologically amplified scarcity
of
human attention
and physical presence
It’s time |
It’s time
Mushrooms?
Describe the memory of mushrooms in wild?
At first you will close your eyes –
Then your Ears !
shut tight in the vacuum of your palms-
Your throat
--- your throat---
dry for quite sometimes
You stay acutely present
Amidst parched walls of your throat
you marvel at the friction of your vocal codes
while ---
---you say !
…that you didn't know
You did not know-
With hollowed echo in your voice
…. you grapple to
grab hold of some genuine shock
surprised !
To relive yourself of the guilt
Guilt of having watched and not moved
having smelled and not ...?
You nervously rub your fingers around your mouth, your lips, your nose -
Sniffing out the faint memories
of trials - trolls - trampolines
You rub your hands on your forehead,
Wiping moist bubbles of anxiety
Your fingers contorted, travel up- down - side ways
Scraping and scooping your hair between your fingers,
your nail digging zigzag paths on your scalp
but there was nothing to see ,
when your neighbors were dragged out of their homes
bare breasted
your doors were tightly shut
you could have not seen such a violence
but why … why then....
The walls of your throat are sticking to each other
You think of nothing else but water
---------------- water… water… water…
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Still from a day long performance
- Directing water into the Dew Point
presented at Toynbee studios, London 2021
