WHAT I SEE MIGHT BLIND YOU, video

SOCIAL MOTIONS, mass performance

NEWS FROM NOWHERE, objects, installation

HOUSE MUSEUM, installation

EASY&FAST, video installation

FITNESS CENTER, installation

NEWS FROM NOWHERE, ongoing serial of objects, text, images

Installation:

The texts in this composition are extracts taken from a visionary novel, 'News from Nowhere', written by William Morris, British artist, designer and writer. The book was published in 1890s and is an example of utopian vision informed and inspired by radical socialist ideas and science fiction.

The author of this installation, however, does not aim to refer directly to the original message of the novel, but rather seeks to re-appropriate the text in combination with images to generate a different understanding of utopist thinking in relation to the social reality of a contemporary mega city.

Presented in the form of an associative storyboard, this work refers to the relation between possible social change and its effects on a city (city heritage).

The narrator (of the book), under the influence of recent loaded discussions with friends, wakes up one morning in the future in an unfamiliar society which knows little of its past and excludes heritage from its affairs. During his walk through the city he contemplates whether there is another way for radical change other than forgetting the past.

This work is initiated in and inspired by Cairo but is not (only) site-specific. In its current stage, the project explores associations as interpretation.

extracts from the text >>

...
There had been one night a brisk conversational discussion, finally shading off into a vigorous statement by various friends of their views on the future of the fully-developed new society. On the way home I found myself musing on the subject-matter of discussion, but still discontentedly and unhappily. 'If I could but see it!' 'If I could but see it!'
In this mood I tumbled into bed.
...
I noticed that people couldn't help looking at me rather hard; and considering my clothes and theirs, I didn't wonder; but whenever they caught my eye they made me a very friendly sign of greeting.
...
There were houses about, some on the road, some amongst the fields… They were all pretty in design, some of them in red brick… I fairly felt as if I were alive in the fourteenth century; a sensation helped out by the costume of the people that we met or passed, in whose dress there was nothing 'modern'.
...
Once a year we hold a solemn feast to commemorate The Clearing of Misery. On that occasion the custom is for the prettiest girls to sing some of the old revolutionary songs, to hear the terrible words of threatening and lamentation coming from their sweet and beautiful lips, and them unconscious of their real meaning: and to think that all the time they do not understand what it is all about - a tragedy grown inconceivable to her and her listeners. Think of that, if you can, and of how glorious life is grown!
...