image text special shop

'The Tomorrow That Never Was' by David Hanes at Open Forum, Berlin

article image; primary-color: #BBB6B0;
article image; primary-color: #C3BCB2;
article image; primary-color: #C1BAB2;
article image; primary-color: #C4BBB2;
article image; primary-color: #C5BCB3;
article image; primary-color: #CDCBCC;
article image; primary-color: #BABBBD;
article image; primary-color: #CFCDD0;
article image; primary-color: #B9B2AA;
article image; primary-color: #BFB7AA;
article image; primary-color: #C3B8A6;
article image; primary-color: #BCB5A5;

Ice was the nature of his game.

Seen as leagues of corridor, mazes of shadow. Walls that flick away like supersonic butterflies made of shade. Beyond them, the illusion of infinite space.

Black ice. Don’t think about it. Black ice.

Too many stories; black ice. Frost that kills. Black ice. Illegal, but then aren’t we all?

Lurching, a surf of flickering shadow. A silver tide boiled across my field of vision. The unfolding began in my head, infinite and perfectly transparent. Designed to absorb local colour and present itself as whatever it encountered.

Dissolving, sheets of shadow flickering and fading, eaten by the systems that spin out from the program, tumbling away from our central logic and infecting the fabric of the shadow itself.

A neural-feedback weapon. Like some hideous Word that eats the mind from the inside out. Like an epileptic spasm that goes on and on until there’s nothing left. You connect with it only once.

. . . Exposed, emerging, vulnerable... This is the far side, the view I’ve never seen before, the view that 800 million users see daily and take for granted.

Legitimate users that never see the walls of ice they work behind, the walls of shadow that screen their operations from others, from industrial-espionage artists and hustlers, from the colourless non-space of the simulation, the electronic consensus-hallucination that facilitates the handling and exchange of massive quantities of data.

They mutate constantly, in unison, subverting and absorbing. Through screams, raw metal sounds, folding around me like an origami trick. And dark, so dark, in the halls of ice.

And maybe now you're cashing in that return fare. Maybe now you're never coming back. Maybe now I see you never. Never. Never...

But sometimes, late at night, I’ll pass a window with posters of all those beautiful, identical eyes staring back at me out of faces that are nearly as identical, and sometimes the eyes are hers, but none of the faces are, none of them ever are, and I see her far out on the edge of all this sprawl of night and cities, and there she waves goodbye.

13.10.18 — 30.11.18

Open Forum

'CUORE MIO' by Mariantonietta Bagliato at Nico, Bari

'Problem' by Tomáš Roubal at Berlinskej Model, Prague

'True Romance', Group Show at Shore, Vienna

'Neophyte II' by Jura Shust at EXILE, Vienna

'The book ends' by Mathis Collins at Crèvecœur, Paris

'Body Snatchers', Group Show at Like A Little Disaster + Chiesa di San Giuseppe,

'Nonlinear Episode', Group Show Curated by TZVETNIK at ISSMAG, Moscow

'Cybervikings of Mars' by Līga Spunde at 427, Riga

'burden', Group Show at darkZone, New Jersey

'The Beautiful Far Away' by Masha Kovtun at Berlinskej Model, Prague

'Baroque Topologies', Group Show Curated by Kea Bolenz und Louis Hay at Kunstvere

'Eupepsia' by Antonin Giroud-Delorme at Placement Produit, Aubervilliers

'I feel boîte', Group Show Curated by Ivan Pérard & Yein Lee at Loggia, Vienna

'Guilty dreams: oneiroid' by Pavel Polshchikov and Natasha Perova at IP Vinogrado

'Bag of Hurt' by Gabriele Garavaglia at Sentiment, Zurich

'crybaby' by Aga Gabara at Rodriguez Gallery, Poznań

'Dezicions' by Paul Barsch & Tilman Hornig at Plague Space, Krasnodar

'je n'entends plus aucune voix' by Angélique Aubrit and Ludovic Beillard at Lindr

Next Page