July 24, 2019
By Marzia Matarese
The last Paratext before the summer break, the last act before the Polivalentes and the summer drift. We concentrate again in the Ricson room, this black cube of ours that, when light turns off, becomes a space of possibility, where many places are given way in one, a tesseract1 of visceral and “rare” experimentations. The one that has once been affectionately nicknamed “the largest dark-room in southern Europe”.
With lights off we can glimpse different set-ups in the gloom distributed throughout the space. This time it seems that we are going to attend the encounter between the survivors of a collapsing, drifting, disintegrating and vertically falling civilization. As well as their forms of resistance: through recovered memory and the gaze of others, the subversion of the fragment, love in times of ecological devastation, the fragile and cutting force of contact, the sacrifice of the bodily…
A spotlight is lit, we witness a first materialization in the western sector of this multiverse.
First contact – Jeanine Verloop (exchange residence between Hangar and V2_Lab)
A shiny, transparent exoskeleton waits quietly, resting on a table, perhaps a remote activation. Fragile fingers of quick touch remain immovable in a retracted and uncertain position. A voice resounds from an intercom loudspeaker:
– Imagine that you have never seen a human being before.
The alien perspective infiltrates among those present, gently laying on us its bluish prisms.
– Their devices look all the same. Shouldn’t there be more imagination surrounding them?
A laser cuts a writing device. Laser eyes outline grey hands that approach a body (of human appearance) and reconstruct it. Hands hesitating, trying to follow confusing designs: files decrypted by archaeologists of the future, collected on hard disks of transparent methacrylate.
Next to them, piles of prototypes accumulate. There are so many that could fill an entire hangar: what remains of a re-design process of a partially registered anatomy; incomplete renderings refined with alien dreams.
– Each arm has an independent motor. They have to organize and coordinate.
An assembly of arms, a council of recovered intentions and desires.
– Technological progress incentivate the psycosis around the authonomy of it from your body.
A holographic image is projected a few meters away from the operating table: a young Gutenberg with his back turned assembles in the semi-shade a mobile ouija in an attempt to talk with God. On the floor, sketches made by previous machines recreating abstact paintings, approximations to recovered collections.
Once again the darkness falls, screen jump.