‘I’ll be your mirror’, a solo show presented as part of slice, curated by Emma McKinney at Stryx, Birmingham.
slice is a platform; fleeting and fluctuating. A programme of monthly interventions/exhibitions/displays, the project aims to provide opportunities for emerging artists to share their work with the city of Birmingham.
Happening on-top-of | alongside | beneath | between; slice works around Stryx’s existing gallery programme as an exercise in being resourceful, negotiating space and sharing/layering territories.
‘I’ll be your mirror’ is inspired by extramission, the Pre-Socratic theory that eyes emit rays of light to achieve vision.
Open by appointment 10.07.2017-14.07.2017
His eyes lit up like searchlights, hunched in the doorway.
You’re leaving again.
He noted every exit and re-entry, each time resetting a scale of anticipation.
Between the ages of two and three, X had to undergo multiple surgeries to correct the alignment of X’s eyes. X’s mother used to describe the sinking feeling that accompanied watching X being carted off on a hospital bed through the swinging doors and past the “STAFF ONLY BEYOND THIS POINT” sign. X’s eyes are pretty much fine nowadays and you wouldn’t be able to tell, apart from the little dots on the sides of X’s eyeballs and when X gets a bit tired, the right eye starts drifting a little to the left. Sometimes when X gets a headache, X thinks about the elasticity of the optic nerve and the constant tension placed on it, and how everything is really about making sense of uncrossing crossed wires.
You must locate the centre point and interrogate it.
They came across each other several times that day. She first noticed it just after she passed the park; each time she thought she had missed her chance to document the notable encounter, as the vehicle crept around block after block following its own logistical path whilst scanning its surroundings. There weren’t that many other people around, and those who were seemed like they were trying to act normal around its marked presence. Aware of the fact that it was probably recording her, she wanted to reciprocate in some way, to claim a bit of the unsolicited transaction for herself.
The moment finally came at the pedestrian crossing when it pulled up right in front of her having circled back on itself. By October, her image had already been overwritten and in her place was a woman with a walking frame, pretending not to notice.
In order of assumed appearance:
1. I’ll be your mirror. Video projection on perspex, rope, mirrored perspex shelf.
2. The afterimage. Risograph on newsprint, edition of 200 (+6 AP). Free to take.
3. The afterimage (incidental spectres). Red wall plugs in pairs.
4. every time. Giclée print.