hierosgamos

[hierosgamos]

[hierosgamos]

<b>Ikkan Art Gallery  and <a href="http://www.helutrans.com/artmove/?page_id=14" target="_blank">Artspace @ Helutrans</a>

14 - 24 May 2016</b>

Works, performances, readings, daily actions, thick descriptions, seances, possessions

An entanglement of iridescences, love and death-lines

with fundraising auction for soft/WALL/studs

Co-curated with <a href="http://kernlo.se" target="_blank">Kenneth Loe</a>

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ONE. Exhibition TWO. Auction THREE. Vigils FOUR. Sounds and Screenings FIVE.  Closing Requiem

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<b>ONE. Exhibition</b>.

You know that special kind of power a body has in a shiny nude coloured camisole That kind of power that slips either way makes shoulders glisten almost naked in the dim and in the bright albedo shine easy to imagine whole skin Termites on nuptial flights lay chitinous wings on my decolletage What game are you playing at some eyes seemed to say

the feeling when f-a-c-u-l-t-i-e-s labour against wayward rubatos unfurling like a tidal bore across the foundation between yr temples a bluebird sans telegraph line

i'll b e mirror to yr blush u b e scissor to my slush

the blue moon, thinly sliced, drizzles fructose on a cake of soap, froths of mascarpone in the strainer

I await your one-line emails

a strewn mummy raps: Come away with me at the seams

<b>TWO. Auction </b> Opening performance, //FL_|_PS//, is an auction of collateral materials from an earlier Christie's preview of Modernist masters in the very same space. The materials from the Christies preview resurface on the very same walls used for the preview in <a href="http://www.helutrans.com/artmove/?page_id=14" target="_blank">Artspace @ Helutrans</a> and become subject to deflation and speculation as visitors to the exhibition partake in the affair on the very same day the auction is to take place in London. The title refers to the act of "flipping a work", which means to buy and re-sell the work of an upcoming artist quickly to inflate its value. The performance negotiates les petit morts of these inflationary and deflationary mechanisms in the art world with the explicit hijacking of its infrastructure.

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<b>THREE. VIGILS </b> READING between the "line that usually winds into a circle" as Stephanie J Burt narrates fragments from a text she wrote & DICTATION 1.2 with Weixin Chong meanders around the headstones, silent and scribing.

With invigilation from Kenneth Loe and Luca Lum.

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<b>FOUR. HAN2 elopes on a l➿ p de l➿ p to a whiff of 'Perfumed Nightmare' (Performance followed by screening) </b> 25 May

<a href="http://wujunhan.bandcamp.com/releases" target="_blank">HAN2</a> elopes on a loop de loop, chain lift, chemtrails, oscillating, repeat, marbles tripping over feet, trick hill ensnares, mime over matter, hiss to hither, service provider, loop that loop, dive drop, zero-g roll, pretzel knot

with Luca playing interference.

'Perfumed Nightmare' (1977) ~ a jeepney driver from the Philippine countryside dreams of the American promise and idolises Wernher Von Braun. (Finished with a post-screening interlude with Sidd and Cain)

An extra-diegetic stain left by Svetlana

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<b>FIVE. Closing Performance: May u live 2 see the dawn ☠ a trial design of a postage stamp yet to be accepted 24 May 2016</b>

A curatorial conceit between Constance Loewe and Foxkid Luca, Bcc: Rak Shakalaka

Performed w/ graffiti, HDMI cables, art objects, objects supporting art objects, CCTVs, plinths, Ikkan Art Gallery, Helutrans infrastructure, audience, the lady who was junk mail

From: Kenneth Loe <kenneth@ikkan-art.com> Subject: V2V Date: 18 May 2016 12:28:38 am SGT To: Luca L <assistant@ikkan-art.com>

Dear Luca,

What does one do when coconut cream solidifies? Today I was awash with grave thoughts in the aftermath of last saturday night and it helped that you were around to sieve the waxy lyric(al)s out. What happens when one replaces tapioca with soap in a pudding?

He pursed his lips as he parsed string theories through lines of laundry, skeins of silk, cotton and wool entangling in the viscous tempest that threatens to blow the lid off his ashen teapot. Disappointment hung stale like a still elephant in the depths of effluvia at wit’s end; a perfumed nightmare elopes with a antelope to Guadeloupe. “Nice” complicity was not what undid the VVitch, it was felicity. Hannah decided to rub tiger balm on her joints so that she might better understand growing pains, these pressures fall soft as rain off her shoulders with a glisten of pleasure, light as a feather, stiff as a boarding school.

Can we speak of lateral inversions in place of literal hell? Your performance at the gallery vs you performing in the gallery vs the performability of the gallery - are you negotiating balance on a tightrope across the möbius strip, teasing snippets of glue from white walls? How do we then feel about this palpable anxiety of the meta register permeating the air of this material utopia? Do you smell fear, or rather, is pretension necessarily occluded within olfaction?

I await your one-line emails,

Kenneth Loe Asst. Gallery Manager

From: Svetlana <Svetlana@ˈiːθərnɛt.x*> Subject: Re: how much of vampiric is an aesthetic? Date: 23 May 2016 10:30:50 PM HST To: Kenneth Loe <kenneth@ikkan-art.com> Bcc: Luca L <assistant@ikkan-art.com> привет из ада! how much of vampiric is ANAESTHETIC ? Anaesthesia, ORIGIN mid 19th cent.: from Greek anaisthētos ‘insensible’, related to anaisthēsia (see anaesthesia), + -ic.) How much vampirism numbs the skin, becomes something more akin, askin, asking, to excuse, to absent oneself, to be and not be, to be unseemly to unseem, to shine and then not… Is there a middle man draining your profit, get rid of them, it’s the information wage 1. Open your optical drive drawers 2. Obtain a disc of light 3. Scan the item(s) you wish to transmit to your chosen dead (me) onto the disc of light 4. Wait for all solids to dematerialise 5. As you would breathe in cigarette smoke, hold the dematerialised substances in your aching centre and think upon my face ... Do I believe in solidarity? [...] Are you asking if I apologise for mimicking the living, for miming their gestures, for saying I walk among them, for taking the mop out of the closet to see myself unpictured in the dim glaze of the CCTV? For seeking one-self-ness and affinity with what is otherwise a very distant moon? Or Brazil? I’ve never been and they say Hell is like Brazil, where it is a thick and hot night of life and death? ... Oh grave money! Oh windmills and water troughs!

~ +<< S VE T >> + ~