There Is A Light That Never Comes On

Been to the Twinkleberry coalface today, which has meant no time at Movement. However I was there last night painting my plastic toy soldiers until it was too dark to see – unfortunately the lights would not work despite my following the traditional path of locating and transferring the switch to the ‘on’ position.

Abject POV shot of gallery

For Thursday’s show I am going with the definition of Reception that reads thus ‘the action of admitting someone to a place, group, or institution – or the process of being admitted’. This way I can focus on the space as a place where some type of interaction can occur.

I’m drawn to how it interacts with its environment on the station platform. The gallery space can be off putting if you ‘don’t speak the language’, with it’s perceived aloofness, reputation for rigorous intellectual discourse and the unwritten rule that says you must wear black. As a result, whilst travellers will sometimes put their head round the door they often appear reluctant to let their bodies follow suit.

This is the kettle that wil boil the water that wil make my tea

So, I’m dumbing down, sort of. I’d like to make the space an arena where the reception that can take place is that of knowledge, and to that end I have been thinking up dreadful wordplays based upon philosophers/cultural kitsch. This way they will seem more readily digestible to the more partisan of part time gallery dweller ie Barthes Simpson and Guattari Hero, to name just two of the worst offenders. Working title for the piece is "I'd Like To Nietzsche World To Sing'. You can all groan in your own time. 

This is the seat I shall sit on whilst I am drinking my tea

These will be printed on the backs of Hi-Viz jackets which will be hung to make the room look like a football dressing room. One hook might have a sports jacket hung upon it to make it look like one that is in use.