‘doubt'
we pass the tunnel of flashing lights and enter the labyrinth of darkness- the ‘corridors of decisions'. Here i find children who collaborate with an echo to give me- a proper adult a fright. I undoubtedly and certainly unfairly make a decision to use my grown-up power: I put on the phone light to scare them away.
Finally, I successfully reach the end of the labyrinth and enter the wonderland of Carsten Holler. The walls of the gallery disappear in the darkness and the playground with the spice of amusement park shows up. There I’m riding on a carousel with upside-down goggles and here I’m in the kingdom of revolving mirror doors. There I’m laughing and making weird sounds out of wonder, here there is someone giving me a strange look.
Now we enter a very intense corridor of strobe lights that leads us to spacious and bright room with two laser guided’ roaming beds’ that offer visitors to spend a night in the gallery: to wake up in a place but not the one you fell asleep in.
However, I already find myself in a different place. I also now feel sadness. That kind of sadness when mum tells you have to leave the playground and go home. Anyway here lights are on to scare my inner child away and i notice how big and tall is the hangar Pirelli Bicocca. Walls appear. We leave.
‘five car stud'
We are in the middle of the crime scene - a very obscene racial crime scene by Edward Kienholz which was hidden in Japanese collectors storage for nearly 40 years but now it’s here right in front of us, or wait we are in front of it. The atmosphere is so real and terrifying that you are just scared of someone to press a magic bottom and un-pause the scene.
Now I spin the lottery wheel and win the entrance to the base of the carousel with the condition to walk inside in the darkness. i put on my phone light again to see what is around. I find out I’m surrounded by scary weird looking animal/human figures. i switch off the light, feels better without the light this time.
Edward Kienholz puts you face to face with your fairs and the darkness of humanity; children exposed to vulgarity, racism and sexism, political corruption, moral hypocrisy, and oppression of marginalized groups.
All is filthy you can almost smell it. The only way not to see is to close your eyes and walk blind. Hold your breath too.
We admire the architecture of prada foundation for a little while, enjoy wes anderson’s styled coffee and bring ourselves back to the ‘nice’ looking world... ‘Oh it’s not real after all and everything is so pretty’’ (sigh). Sun shines bright in Milan.
‘chromosaturation'
We are in an art resort Louisiana. The whole collection of opt and kinetic art is on display.
Light, shapes, forms and uncertainty of your own vision and perception hits you. What you see is not what you look at.
i walk. i feel how colour wraps around my skin, my hair . `I’m impregnated with all that light, I go out, climb the pyramid and have the nap on the top.
‘White circle’
I am again in the darkness. in the middle of the flashing circle and watch how Nicolai Carsten composes the frequencies of light and sound in a way it is tangible for both - eyes and ears. The architect of sensory landscapes, patterns and grid employs codes and error, random and self-organizing structures.
Sound and light travels through your eyes, ears and skin.
museum of capitalism ft art
We find ourselves in Basel with 0 hours sleep wanting to get out in Switzerland but really going out in France. Eventually, we reach art Basel. Spectacular architecture overflown with extraordinary pieces or art. Everything what’s best today is on display. 4 days museum of the most contemporary: world’s problems and personality issues, beautiful mind and craft. All on display although not particularly for looking, especially not for experiencing it but for buying. Spending hundreds of thousands or millions of little papers in exchange of personal satisfaction and great beauty.
A farewell sort of party for artist as they have to hand over their work to the other hands.
World is not fair and capitalism is tiring. Completely exhausted we leave.
