Rooms built into the space, cells of wax with walls of tallow, car seats, used oil tanks, milk, Pipes docked to the pipes of the existing exhibition space, a shop window, a normal window, a convex lens, refrigerator parts assembled to form a large oversized refrigerator room, a puddle of motor oil with a reflection, damaged cables.
A wall divides the exhibition space, separating the area accessible to visitors from the area where the performer works. This area is only accessible to one viewer at a time, through optical devices and in a specific position. The artist making subtle interventions. Visitors encounter strange pipe constructions that resemble blood vessels and electrical wires. A damaged pipe disrupts the entire system, causing a blockage on one side and a shutdown on the other.
Thrombosis, the clogged fluids, and systems, one get in motion to rule out their embolism, a worker in protection gear appears through the rectangular lens with a heat gun, melting the grease, ameliorating the pass to the next stage, they are chambers built out of these coagulum. The worker is stained with the fat, a constant liquefying and reducing action, to open pass through different capsules, meta-organs enclosed that reveal the inner communication and conduction. We have walked through the amber tanks, turning our bodies and minds to watch this scene upside down, as we can not access it more than though a vitrine, as walls stand in between.
These walls more than signs of a barrier, are perhaps protection, some sort of immunological mechanism, the body prefers to remain as an image, like a figurative x-ray, where we can draft in our minds the organs that mobilise and stimulate this system, as we have bodies, a subliminal relation to this arrangement awakes. We the audience can see through the windows or optical aids the inner metabolism and stagnation of this structure that operates as a body.
Concealed car parts, and fragmented remnant fuel, displaced and emerging in the drips of fat. Perhaps the worker is a mechanic, a driver with car seats to conduct power. Licking conductors of cellulite and copper, a nervous system, possibly numbed by their surrounding adiposity. The worker ambulates from cell to cell, with poise and guts, encountering an image analogical to the outside of this body, it reads ‘ARAL’, as an impression of that adjacent place where motors get provided with combustible, with underground tunnels, that blow up and supply liquids, sounds like a dream of a facilely body that runs smoothly for this obstructed body, battling to soften its parts; under the table of our left vitrine, limbs, members and tissues, are cooking encased in a metal foil, as a remote conduction of the energy running through the room.
The pipes irrigate the uncongealed lard, to a point where they reach us, slowly that inner world bleeds inside ours, like a torrent of reality, the one of a clogged body, perhaps an unavailable one. Nearly to what feels like suspended time, a clock ticking for reparation to be executed, before an hypothetical overflow by guts.
