Ian Carr-Harris, 137 Tecumseth, 1994
Shirin Neshat, Turbulent, 1998, two channel video/audio installation. With Shoja Azari and Sussan Deyhim. Via.
The male performance is socially sanctioned and realistic. The woman’s performance is outlawed and exists only as a dream.
Atom Egoyan. Read his full essay on Neshat’s piece.
I love this piece so much. Bear in mind that when it’s shown (at least when I saw it) the two channels are projected on opposite sides of the room, so you can only look at one at a time.
Adrian Williams, Tin man
VI
Sometimes the house grows and spreads so that, in order to live in it, greater elasticity of daydreaming, a daydream that is less clearly outlined is needed. ‘My house,’ writes Georges Spyridaki, ‘is diaphanous, but it is not of glass. It is more of the nature of vapour. Its walls contract and expand as I desire. At times, I draw them close about me like protective armour … But at others, I let the walls of my house blossom out in their own space which is infinitely extensible.’
— Bachelard, The Poetics of Space (House and Universe) plus Lucinda Hitchcock, strips of Gaston Bachelard’s Poetics of Space on a window, 1993.
the fog magnified
The houses either side of that sad street,
So they seemed like two wharves the ebbing flood
Leaves desolate by the river-side. A mist,
Unclean and yellow, inundated space-
— Baudelaire, from ‘The Seven Old Men’
The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.
— T.S. Eliot, from ‘The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock
"In the end, autumn is nothing but cold tea and it goes on and on and takes ages to dry out."
Francis Ponge
The Point at Which the Skin Gathers
Alexandra Busgang
2011
