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Everything that gathers blows away

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Everything that gathers blows away
Curated by: Abigail Simon

126 Baxter St
10013 New York
New York
US
August 3rd, 2016 - August 7th, 2016
Opening: August 3rd, 2019 6:00 PM - 8:00 PM

DESCRIPTION

 

 

 

Time was like water….but I was the sea….And now the dark air is like fire on my skin

And even the moonlight is blinding….

(Townes van Zandt, the Rake)

 

Embedded in each cultural construction there is a forlorn hope: a hope that the imposition of

systems will make meaning, or lead to change, to order, ….but order is. cosmically speaking, a

symptom of decay. Curation, a gesture of assemblage, is an attempt to construct an argument

from different languages. It is a way of making a case for a truth, but truth is unstable…it is

subject to context, and shows up differently in different lights.

Each object we touch has the potential to function as a time machine. It is a translation device

that makes a bridge between the experience of the host (artist) and guest (viewer) . Each of us

is the carrier of a unique distillation of our collective historical experience(s). We are all carriers

of the same virus, but it isn’t (only) language, as Derrida famously said…it is also history.

The artists in this show explore the collision of personal and political, social and spiritual

systems, regimes of capitalism and desire. They speak from across the globe in a cacophony of

media. Where do their narratives converge? Each in their own way attempts to think the

unthinkable: a future that is unimaginably alien, a present tense that is mysterious and

unknowable, or heal a past full of wounds and loss. What does it mean for the world as we

know it to come to an end? And doesn’t that take place, in ways large and small, for all of us,

every day?

There is a saying: Kali, the Hindu goddess of change, is terrifying to those that fear her, but

beautiful to those who embrace her.

 

Please join us as we try and hold a thought in our memory for the brief moment it takes to share

it, before it shifts, and fades, before it is no longer true, before the summer falls away and falls

apart. All that remains to us is now—-which does not in fact remain at all.

Abigail Simon July 2016

 

 

 

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