ARCHIVE EVENT 46.
06.10.2023
LOCATION: MOLT, Tempelhofer Ufer 1A, BERLIN
FORMAT: Exhibition, performance
CURATOR: HURRICANE
ARTISTS:
HURRICANE with Leonor Parda
feat. Gioele Granchini
Elle Fierce
Pierandrea Miglietta
LO/F
IN 2014 I MARRIED MY FLESHLIGHT — A JAR OF CHUNKY PEANUT BUTTER WITH A TIGHT, LITTLE HOLE CARVED OUT. FIVE YEARS LATER I WAS DIVORCED, DEPRESSED, AND ABUSING AN AMPLE HANDFUL OF SUBSTANCES. IN A STATE OF URGENT NEED, I EMBARKED ON A FULL-FRONTAL UNIONIZATION WITH THE BLEAK DOMAIN ENCROACHING; THE SELFLESS SELF AND THE SOCIETAL ROT TURNED ONE, THEN TURNED ON ME, (THEN TWO, THEN THREE). AND THAT’S WHY, TODAY, I SAY; LIFE IMITATES ART AND VICE VERSA, BLAH BLAH BLAH.
1-800-MEOW-MEOW FUNCTIONS AS A MEPHEDRONE-SOAKED BRAIN, LADEN WITH ITS WEAPONIZED TRAILS OF THOUGHT, SUDDENLY CHILD-LIKE AND INTENSE, THIRSTING, MADLY, FOR A HIGHER HIGH, OR EVEN HIGHER, THE HIGHEST OF HIGHS, WHICH IS SHORTLY AFTER STRUCK WITH A SAD REALITY, THE NOW, SOMETHING DISGUSTING, SOMEHOW DISCOVERING, (ONCE MORE?), THE LOWEST LOW … HOW DID WE END UP HERE?
THE CONCEPT MEPHEDRONE-BRAIN DESCRIBES AN URGENT, SINISTER, DRUG-INDUCED PARANOIA, (“DRUG” IN BOTH ITS LITERAL AND METAPHORICAL FORMS) WHICH GROWS AND GURGLES OUT ACROSS DAUNTING CEREBRAL LANDSCAPES, BLURRING THE LINES BETWEEN SATIRE AND SEVERITY, CONNECTION AND DESTRUCTION, REALITY AND DELUSION, ALL IN A DOG-HEADED ATTEMPT TO FIND SELF-WORTH IN MOMENT OF EXTREME INTERNAL AND EXTERNAL UPHEAVAL. (I EMBRACE THE DAY VIOLENTLY, AS A HURRICANE, RAPID CYCLING BETWEEN DEPRESSION AND MANIA). 1-800-MEOW-MEOW GIVES VOICE TO THE PECULIAR KICK OF BOTH LIFE AND DEATH EXPERIENCED AT ONE’S LOWEST POINT. AS WE FALL DOWN INTO DEEP DEPRESSION, EVERYTHING AROUND US BECOMES NUMB AND THE MEPHEDRONE-BRAIN ROARS WITH FEAR AND DOUBT. HOWEVER, AS WE NEAR “ROCK BOTTOM,” THE MEPHEDRONE-BRAIN TOO TURNS NUMB. HERE, WE ARE FORCED TO FACE OURSELVES AND OUR SUFFERING HEAD-ON, AND WE ARE COMPELLED TO FIND/CURATE SAFE SPACES IN UNUSUAL, FRIGHTENING PLACES.
THE 1-800-MEOW-MEOW COLLECTION IS A SYMBOLIC REGURGITATION OF SOME OF THE BIZARRE PLACES WITHIN OUR ACHING MINDS WHERE WE’VE FOUND SAFETY OR TAKEN SHELTER. IT IS PART OF AN ONGOING OBJECTIFICATION OF INTANGIBLE HUMAN QUALITIES AND OBSCURITIES, DUG UP FROM MOMENTS OF INTIMATE DESPAIR AND PRESENTED HONESTLY AND PRIDEFULLY, AS IF TO SAY, “I MET MY DEMONS, NOW IT’S TIME FOR THEM TO MEET YOU.”
THE INTENSE, EXPRESSIVE, OBSESSIVE CULTURE OF BERLIN IS NOT RESTRICTED TO THE NIGHTLIFE SCENE; IT EXTENDS MUCH FURTHER, EVEN GENERATING ITS OWN PSYCHOLOGY, ONE THAT RELIES ON CRASH-AND-BURN AESTHETICS AND BIOHACKING/SELF-MEDICATING RITUALS TO FUEL AN ONGOING HUNT FOR IMMEDIATE LIFE AND PLEASURE. THIS MODE OF THINKING IS BOTH HOPEFUL AND GRIM – HOPEFUL BECAUSE WE GET TO DEEP-DIVE INTO OUR IDENTITIES AND TRAUMAS, BROADENING OUR UNDERSTANDINGS OF PURPOSE AND CONNECTION, AND EMPHASIZE THE SIGNIFICANCE OF CHALLENGING ART AND DISCUSSION – GRIM BECAUSE THE SEARCH FOR SELFHOOD AND CONNECTIVITY IS ENDLESS, AND THE ADOPTION OF A MORE FLUID, ANTI-ESTABLISHMENT HEADSPACE CLASHES VIOLENTLY WITH THE WIDER SPECTACLE. A TRADITIONAL CODE OF TOXIC MORALS ENFORCED BY SYSTEMIC CAPITALISM AND INDIVIDUALISM WORKS TO KEEP THE MASSES ISOLATED, ASHAMED, AND STUCK IN SURVIVAL MODE. WE ARE BRAINWASHED TO BELIEVE THAT OUR FAILURE TO ACHIEVE WEALTH/STATUS/HAPPINESS/ETC. IS A PRODUCT OF OUR OWN SHORTCOMINGS. THEREFORE, THE SPECIFIC CULTURE IN BERLIN WHICH ALLOWS US TO FEEL SAFE, BRANCH OUT, AND BE RADICAL, QUEER ARTISTS AND PARTY-GOERS, IS SO DREADFULLY POISONED BY THE MORE CONSERVATIVE, MORE ESTABLISHED PATTERN OF EXPLOITATION IN WHICH IT RESIDES, BIRTHING A YES-BUT-NO MENTALITY THAT PROPELS PEOPLE TOWARDS SELF-ABUSE, AND SUBSTANCE-ABUSE, WITH MORE AND MORE QUESTIONS, AND MORE AND MORE SEARCHING, AND MORE AND MORE AND MORE AND MORE …
NO MATTER HOW MUCH INTERNAL GROWTH AND EDUCATION WE’VE ACCOMPLISHED, OR HOW MANY IMPOSED OBSTACLES WE’VE OVERCOME, WE ARE STILL FORCED TO SEE OURSELVES, AT LEAST TO SOME DEGREE, AS A CAPITALISTIC BODY, AN INDIVIDUAL UNIT, A NUMBER, A PRICE TAG, A COMPARISON TO THE OTHER.
THIS MANNER OF EXISTENCE MAKES MY MEPHEDRONE-BRAIN ITCH: IS THE TRUE SELF JUST THE PIECES OF US WHICH MANAGED TO ESCAPE WHAT WE WERE TOLD TO BE? … IS THE TRUE SELF THE SEARCH FOR SELF ITSELF? … IS IT ALL OF OUR PERCEPTIONS OF SELF PUT TOGETHER? IF SO, IS IT POSSIBLE TO STAY SANE WITH THIS CONFLICTING SENSE OF AWARENESS? AND WILL WE EVEN BE ABLE TO BASE OUR SANITY ON ANYTHING OTHER THAN “AM I SUITABLE TO WORK?”? OR “AM I BEING PRODUCTIVE ENOUGH?”? … WHY CAN’T I FEEL MY FACE? WHY CAN’T I FEEL MY HEART? … I WANT TO FEEL MY HEART. … I WANT TO FEEL MY HEART …
IN CONCLUSION: LIFE IMITATES ART, AND VICE VERSA, BLAH BLAH BLAH …
*ALL OF THE FEATURED WORKS IN THIS EXHIBITION WERE PRODUCED WITHIN THE LAST TWO WEEKS, MOST IN THE LAST TWO DAYS. ART IS NOT ENTERTAINMENT. ART IS NOT BEAUTY AND PAIN PUT ON A PEDESTAL.
ART IS A FIRE. ART IS PASSION. ART IS NOW!
Photos by Gil Corujeira
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