- Abstract from thesis (Tableaux mort 2) -
The void, the abyss.
My black panther. Teeth reflecting light.
Man sized bump. A sentiment of mayhem.
Murderous amputations of the domestic.
Toasted remains of a home and its inhabitants.
She knows that the wheel that squeaks gets the oil and she likes her young guns a lot, and their sugar. She’s packing heat. Eating cake. Gets the bang for the buck. Code eleven. Fresh piece of gum. She got a hot bath ready for you, boy. You’ve been on your feet (and her mind) all day.
Salts, tropical oils. A whole lot of candles, potpourri, just waiting for you, boy.
……. a flickering imitation of a shape, a soulless vague contour, a whiff of human, a whiff of murder.
Your eyes in hers separated by water, above, beneath, until your lungs run empty and the bubbles stop breaking the surface.
Your name tattooed on her knuckles.
Tableaux Mort; a site-specific sound installation exploring quotation practice, gender appropriation, non-male aggression as well the autobiographical (memories as organic, fluid, an archive of senses and recollections, fragments, trauma, desire…) with horror and the gurlesque.
The room raises a flag on behalf of existence on the edge, in the zone, among the outlaws, the notorious, damned and damaged.
It showcases props and samples: true marble and true bling. Gold. Always gold. Paradise hotel. Cuba Caramel. Sculpting. Sampling. Bodies. Into a modern day idealized eclectic redneck freakshow.
(Embracing, owning their position.)