Brachland at W139 / Amsterdam

with: Mathis Altmann, Olga Balema, Gerry Bibby, Michael Dean, Nina Könnemann, K.r.m. Mooney, George Rippon, Amy Yao

The show is curated by Dingum as part of the exhibition series "Peach" at W139.

25-15 dec 2016



















Amy Yao



Amy Yao


Gerry Bibby





George Rippon










K.r.m. Mooney





Mathis Altmann








Michael Dean





Nina Könnemann















Olga Balema




takes place


crisp sky
yellow sun
wind is lingering along the beaten path, in thought, disassociated from the cities organization of life and material
attempting to think the unthought route, through the gap, back in time
thinking


:this is not my world


For distraction gathering up some land-dust, speaking to it as if animate


:where to put you


Looking closer at the options


:there’s traces of bad history here and there, making a point in being bulky, inert things that know their incompleteness
that are foreseeing the coming as another day held in place by potentially being of dramatic importance

there’s eaten alive offshoots in hotbeds, conduits providing water, rivers blasting through some underground
reproductive scenes

there’s building sites, buildings in the making, on top of it all


Pausing, trying to think a place that knows no difference between old and new


:I think of myself as a lover of the park. Me in the park is like a dog in the park


Squeaking inwardly like it all having been there always, waiting to be picked up, like warm convenience, like a shirt ironed seconds ago
..
realizing that the dust needs context


:you need a job as long there is vacancy. Get a life. Take the train. Many things happen on the train
I mean it is important to participate


Assuming a stable structure of common values pointing towards ideal condition, then strangely eager
wind to itself


:you yourself should step forward


feeling entitled while the likelihood of this being inappropriate is lurking in some background


:to all unacknowledged organisms actually out there


No one listens to the wind


:I’m talking to dust


Dust, unskillfully summing up its intention to participate, yet to understand the above mentioned on its own terms


:what?     


Wind, quite shocked


:did you hear all this ?


Dust, having already left the winds stream
to itself


:when time does tidy I will be in peace. No shape, no land

– Felix Riemann