PROJECTS BIO CONTACT      
  2017 2016 2015 2018: NOT GOING ANYWHERE. ESCAPE TO THE COUNTRY      
               
     

NOT GOING ANYWHERE, hARTslane, 2018. Installation: 5m printed cotton fabric, oil painted mdf table, spongecake with butter icing, food colouring, dry rice, jelly, weetabix, carboard and sweets.

  The saccharin-sweet, troublesome and definitively kitsch paintings by American artist Thomas Kinkade are littered with an array of bizarre and archetypal bridges described as ‘spanning the chasms and obstacles of life, helping to deliver us safely to where we are going’. But where do we think we are trying to gain access to, and what is our collective vision of renewal and transformation? In London, the seemingly utopic vision of an idyllic garden bridge was not only as a crossing point, but as a hovering liminal space in the centre of the city: a paradise of flora and fauna suspended above the brown sewage of the thames. This perception crumbled under controversy, cover-up and financial dispute as millions of pounds were spent on an abandoned project.
 

When Jesus appears to the disciples after the resurrection he invites Thomas to plunge is fingers into the wounds of his side. ‘Plunging his fingers into the wound, Thomas enters the interior cavity of Christ’s body. Opening his body to Thomas’ quest for evidence and proof, Christ is witnessed as the redeemer’ Phelan, p.28

What happened to the food taken by the risen Jesus? Can a risen body digest food and grow? Surely the resurrection body had no need of material food and drink for its sustenance? What does it mean if the resurrected body did eat, does eat, will eat?

‘Cast as the ultimate stand-in, Christ had already given his body to the script, a script that had him say the words, “This is my body, take and eat,” in an effort to dissolve the boundary between a divine body and a fallen one’. Phelan, p.28

 

As I taste the warm sharpness of the wine on my tongue, as it runs down my throat, as the bread is turned over in my mouth, mixed with my saliva, pushes through my throat, lands in my stomach: as these elements become part of my intestinal matter, as the reality of these substances is confirmed to me: as real as this food is, as real is the thing of which they declare.

The command to remember through a meal: passover, communion. Whenever you eat and drink this, you proclaim the Lord’s coming. Festivals which centre around food. Cheese festivals, coffee festivals, meat festivals, beer festivals, wine festivals, farmer’s markets, food markets. Free samples which are the same size as the square of bread and shot of wine I take at church. The wine is taken like a shot, thrown into the mouth, quickly, in haste.

At the passover they were told to eat the meal whilst wearing their ‘coats’ and with their bags packed ready to leave. Eat standing up, with your coat on and bag over your shoulder. Isn’t that bad for your digestion? Fast food. No time to sit at the table and chew slowly. My landlord told me that you are supposed to chew your food thirty times before swallowing.