Happy Next Year
Happy Next Year
DVD projections, cinderblocks, paper cars, postcards, inkjet prints.
The solo show Happy Next Year brings together multiple installations into a journey of wonder and reflection on time, movement and dreams.
With good morning paradise, two video projectors are placed on the floor opposite one another, casting their lights into the other’s lens. It is only when visitors open the door leading into the gallery space that the images are intercepted by the surface of the door, much like random pictures from the everyday world are registered by the eye. A blinking neon palm tree appears on one side of the door, while a dramatic sunset filmed from a mountaintop above the clouds appears on the other side. Two paradisal images are “caught” amid the comings and goings of the space: one natural, the other artificial. Ideals range in their scope and shape, rendering representations just as significant as authenticity.
In moving clouds, two long rows of cinderblocks stretch across the entire length of the gallery floor, forming a miniature highway, jam-packed with tiny paper cars. Each car is a replica of the prestigious Porsche 911. The tiny cars, ordered and spaced at one end of the tract, overwhelm each other as they progress towards their restricted and ever-narrowing destination. Although motion is implied through a variation of five different cloud patterns printed upon their windscreens, a sense of immobility weighs upon the “speedway”. Each vehicle, like each individual, pursues a singular set of dreams.
At the end of the congested auto way five unfolded prints of the paper Porsche 911’s have been placed on the wall. These appear as the unrealised archetype for the controlled hysteria nearby. Each moving clouds print contains its own title showing the time of day and an individual cloud reflection. Moving Clouds (10:01AM, 10:13AM, 01:49PM, 03:32 PM, 05:04PM)
With Where the hell on earth, three photographs have been framed and arranged upon the wall. One sees two birds being kept in a cage, a series of fishing nets creating illusory “scars” upon the surface of the sea and frost droplets upon an aeroplane window, illuminated by the sun at a high altitude. In each case the photographs capture nature in a harnessed, subtle instance.
With If memories were wishes, one sees a cinderblock wall laid horizontal and supported on one end by five stacks of souvenir postcards that seem to run through the wall as solid towers that emerge on the surface. Each postcard is an identical reproduction of an exotic flower. They are free to the public and when one turns the card over, the sentence: “we don’t move on.” is revealed, printed upon its backside. The stacks of postcards resemble a quintet of tall, precarious skyscrapers, constructed, like the paper cars, with the embodiment of beauty and luxury. Exotic flowers, fancy automobiles, the prospect of travel and progress; we keep and store a plethora of stereotypical wishes within the scrapbook of the inner self, forming a chain of universal memories imprinted within the collective conscious of today’s culture.