Installation

Morbid Curiosity (graduation work)

Interweave

The Pretty Thing that Lives in You

The darkness surrounding you like a claw that is closing. The pretty thing you are looking at is me. But it is me that still cannot see any of what is coming. Me that can, doesn't even know where to look. Me that can see only the door that opens, and the claw that closes. The spots that spread, the wholes that pour through.

 

Even the prettiest things rot. They fall apart like flowers. It is a terrible thing to look at one self, and all the while see nothing.

 

'I am the pretty thing that lives in the house' - Oz Perkins

Dripping

You enter a square dimmed space, which is lighted with a warm spot. White walls from 2,7 meters high and a cold gray concrete floor from 4 by 4 meters. There are multiple skin toned drips hanging from the ceiling. The drips look caught in a protective skin. Once you come closer, the space starts to feel more chilly and suddenly you walk in to a cold soft drip. The further you walk trough the drips, the more you will feel them. Avoiding them is not possible. The drips dance around you while you are making a dance through them. Once you leave this world of drips, they will keep dancing until they find peace again.

Float

You enter a square light space, the light is very clinical since it is white TL light. The 2,7 meters high white walls and the 4 by 4 meters gray concrete floor give a cold vibe. There are these organisms on the concrete floor, they are leaking fluid. They are probably wounded, maybe even dying. But why? What happened here? What happened to the organisms? Maybe you should help them, or are you just gonna leave them there to die and watch them. 

Ageing

Entering a beautiful church, with really high ceilings and a lot of art surrounding every empty spot. In the back there is this big field of tension, build on the graves of holy people. It looks like a tent that is falling apart, a tent that has been there for ages. It looks so fragile with all the wood pieces leaning on each other, just barely connected by the nylon skin toned fabric. Do you dare to enter in the tent? Or shall you just walk around, not to trust something that looks fragile.

Tension