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Reason Not- Knot
Site -specific Installation
"An Attic is a place to hide,
Objects and people Alike."
Reason Not - Knot Installation view

"Reason Not – Knot" is a site-specific installation and performance project that developed during my residency at the International Artist’s Residency at the Embassy of Foreign Artists in Geneva in 2017.

 

I used this site as place to impose an inquiry of material and architectural symbiosis. hundreds of fabric cushion were sewn and stuffed with cotton to be placed between the angles of the beam simply to find a unique co-relation of the two material.


Beyond serving as additional storage and sleeping quarters, attics embody spaces of refuge for items that don’t quite fit into the rest of the domestic setting. They are realms of discovery, creativity, secrecy, and concealment. For those raised in urban areas with flat roofs, attics might seem like places of intrigue, yet I can't help but view them as sacred spaces—arenas for muted conversations and places where lives lingered in suspension during past conflicts. However, I have no concrete justification for associating this space with such a painful chapter of history.

The wooden beams of the attic intersect to form intriguing geometrical patterns. The goal is to imbue the space with a sense of time, fill the void with air, define shape with form, mold form with mass, and guide soft cylindrical cushions to nestle between the sharp angular lines, creating a tranquil ambiance.

An Attic is a Place to Hide
Presented at Embassy of Foreign Artist, Geneva
2017
Reason Not- Knot
Performance

"The attic is a space to hide."
Three members of the audience (all men) were invited to participate in the performance. They were instructed to stand at the three windows in the attic, with their upper torsos extending outside while their feet remained grounded within the space.

Contemplating a triangle—a powerful ancient symbol of creation—I positioned myself at its center, holding a fabric eye in my hand. This exploration of the triangle engaged geometric forces and mathematical concepts. From this vantage point, I reflected on time and extended an invitation for others to join, encouraging them to consider their own unique perspectives. The performance was accompanied by spoken words delivered through audio installations, which facilitated rituals of absurdity and yet reflected the most current and urgent concerns of humanity in the modern world. These words prompted reflections on the nature of triangles and the convergence of angles and angels, blurring the lines between the two.

Hetal Chudasama _ Performance artist_ Reason Not - Knot_ Geneva_ 2017
Hetal Chudasama _ Performance artist_ Reason Not - Knot_ Geneva_ 2017
Hetal Chudasama _ Performance artist_ Reason Not - Knot_ Geneva_ 2017
Hetal Chudasama _ Performance artist_ Reason Not - Knot_ Geneva_ 2017
Performance Reason Not-Knot, Performance Still, Performed at Embassy of Foreign Artist Geneva, Geneva, Switzerland, 2017

Text used as audio during the performance "Reason not - Knot".

How ultimate the “Eye” is

The eye with a vision

Minus the reason

 

Languidly locked in parades

On a perpetual drift.

Multitudes of civilized inquiries

Moving towards oblivion,

             And art…

             oh, art…

How art thou?

 

I still enjoy the color of the coffee

The bulge of abundant cliches

The mystery of being here and after

Mortality only brings more slavery.

 

Still the dishes stay afloat in the sink,

The filthy floor, frightened fridge, tired toilets

Muddled shelves                 and

Babbling mouths…

Speech in Bubbles

Bubbles… bubbles… everywhere

On streets

On television

In classrooms

On weddings

On funerals

On the polls and trolls

On and on and on and on…                  

      But  

      My heavenly cow does mow, mow these days.

 

Fumes of Saturday night hysteria

Followed by Sugar-free Sundays.

 

Ladies,

Let’s wash those second-hand labels in tar

Legacies are found in those junk shops

Someone is selling discarded memories

Unwanted wardrobes - loose

On tedious voyages.

Let’s pack them in bundles and cherish.

Our suitcases shall travel far and wide.

Those landfills,

I ignore them, like everything else that,

Trials my conscience.

 

 

Amidst snow smudged hills

Hovers the lousiest smog

 

The rising sun commands

And all things are left un- punished

 

All but one,

Unfathomably erased dreams.

The consciousness of mortals

at stake. --------barbecue darling....

it's the day for the Barbeque

 

Even in the wake of a final hour

We shall stay obstinate :He said:

Arrest the light with ultimate audacity,

 

Some may rejoice     and

Be deeply buried

In to an unresolvable stupidity.

 

If banality had a colour,

           I wonder…

Which one from spectrum will

Be ready – to scarify its dignity?

-

 

Someone stole the cuckoo clock,

But the cuckoo remains,

           Untouched -

Adamant by the time itself.

Reason - Not the knotted one.

 

In the middle of the house

A flight ascends 

A secret door - leads the way

I climb up and an attic…

All muffled up in the low humming

Chorus of its axis.

 

 

                       “An attic is a space to hide

                        Objects and people alike”

 

A poet demands

The journey,

In an intellectual pursuit

           But watch -

The sheep are grazing in the field.

                                        

                        “An attic is a space to hide

                         Objects and people alike”

                    A N G E L S and A N G L E S

                        are all the same.

Three points can only be joined

In a singular way.

A deceiving corner

 “Triangle” was thought for

And a “Triangle” was fought for

A triangle is divine

A triangle is blasphemous

The divinity must be worshiped

                             Blasphemy…  

must not go unpunished

 

So there,

What is it about “I”, did I talk about?

I like you,

You like me,

We like each other,

Together,       we shall like others.

Together,       with   those  others.

We shall become -

Other themselves

Liked by ourselves.

Hetal Chudasama

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