PPALLISADES

(2017)

Mixed Media Installation with sound & scent

Dimensions variable

The Bomb Factory Art Foundation,London

 'FEMALE TROUBLE'  group show

sound (2:05) on/off 👉🏻

1/18

Staying inside the construction (under instruction) 

Exterior moments become exotic 

Alien- like - able bodied and speechless.

 

She moves through doorways and yawning awnings

Framed like half beach balls bounced into the concrete -  umberella fonts are all grands and bests 

Rotten plastic and luck sinking their heels into the walls .

Palisades are temporary tongues flapping 

Pale pink rubber mittens and flaccid flamingoes.

 

On Entry - She feels like a peeled thumb,  fibrous and dangling. 

Jelly at her edges, powdered about the nose and boned down the middle.

 

She slopes in the corridor 

Leaning on an A-frame, dusting off an inner awning that smells of broken oven gloves 

Childhood cheeks blushed with jam stains and Liquid Lipstick smeared

Rendering...all things pink. 

 

The place itself is all washrooms, wiped floors and corridors.

newly fragile inside and out 

she wraps her knuckles on porcelain,

A sanitary machine trundles past

Blinds are drawn on the walls, and a maid passes judgement.

 

She sucks her cheeks and tastes cut metal -  breathing through the gap. 

Freshened Air is fragranced - battery powered ever present effervescence 

Bleach and Parma violets kick up a stink. 

She stoops through the plastic padded causeway corridor.

Gloved.

Dipping a toe in the lobby carpet demands concentration 

And a man nearby wheezes as he sinks his arms into wall lined chairs - finding coins.  

 

Later they  eat 

Thinking of mothers with legs and teeth and fear. Hoardings remind them which way is up and what is cladding.