Paintings for orange light
Ochre from Roussillon, linen, silk, metal, projection, cucumber juice, pvc foil
Notion of tastelessness
Dear François Jullien quotes: ‚To strive to achieve extraordinary things, so that following generations will have something of me to talk about, this I will avoid by all means.‘
Don’t wonder which direction the wind is coming from. Its impact is not utterable in its singularity. The same applies for the quality of taste. It is not a mere condition, rather it is an unfolding, whereas greatest presence derives from greatest restraint.
The cucumber which is sometimes eaten between the dishes to neutralize your taste is comparable to a pause which holds the promise of duration and continuity. It meets the mouth in transparent silence. On the ‚island of the hundred-years-old’ people love to eat a specific cucumber which is called Goya. It is 20–30 cm long, oblong with bluntly tapering ends and pale green in color, with a gently undulating, warty surface. The cucumber more typical of India has a narrower shape with pointed ends, and a surface covered with jagged, triangular teeth. It is green to white in color. Between these two extremes are any number of intermediate forms.
In slight amazement I think of the cucumber’s skin, a vessel for liquid. When cut open, it enables me to experience a ‚there‘, that is spoken forcefully. I make some essence out of it which I spread onto the belongings of my apartment, considering that maybe everyone would wish to come home to a house where it smells like simple fresh-cut cucumber.