Visit by appointment only
This summer had too many eclipses, retrograde planets that pushed us to detoxify from breakdowns, betrayals, pain, catastrophes, fears but also found us more close to each other and together to try making a sense of it all. Some of us decided to go to forgotten islands in the utmost parts, making wishes and invent rituals to forgive this dark matter that is haunting us. Then fires burned forests, animals, houses, people, families, children, and we cried together for all those souls. We need to reflect, we need to try to stay true to our feelings and to allow to be completely sad, to fight and find each other in disagreement, to speak out and to scream. After a while Sarah found some time to read and write on her own pace and established some strength to slowly develop her dissertation. Destiny started dreaming of a performance she might be able to do and walked in the sand for hours. We were swimming, she was taking photos of the plants, we were gathering wild oregano. We read our wishes to the waves. In and out of the company some more friends were adding to the mood: Calamity, Nora and Mayra. We completely merged to each other, spending time together.
One of the main topics of our conversations was, what else but the issue of maintenance, as well as the importance of staying anchored to the position of the space to not be involved in any of the attitudes of turning into neither a non for profit nor to a for profit space, but to operate from the needs and care of those who cultivate an ongoing relationship with the space and with each other. That could be emotional and/or/and materially manifested. To resist the legal frame for the space which would immediately put all the participants under the vocabulary of capitalism and state civil contracts will be the most challenging for the future and one that intrigues us to continue. Friendship is the foundational material of what it is our milieu. The home if in some cases becomes our stage and discourse it is that that it is burning and rebuild by our own hands. Care for one another put our bodies in heat, our artistic and every day participation in alarming sexual tantrums. Our role if that could be that of the woman, queer, non/binary individual would allow us to completely give it all back to the world, earth, water and all the spirits of the galaxy. If we fight for something is transformation from within, an animistic revolution and the wish for the revolutionary animism to spark from within.
Ύλη[matter]HYLE is happy to present Sofia Leiby's If you don't speak Greek solo exhibition of paintings, unique notebooks and drawings. Her new works, that were produced during her stay, are dizzy, slippery steps of linguistic cross games. When the tongue is strict on finishing a sentence it can certainly complete paintings. Photographs glued on canvases, plastic pigments imitating street signs and slogans, landscapes that situate the thing and the place in conflict. The dream and the real are part of a distant narration that situations are painted as if they are already in the past and forgotten. Remembering a city but still live in it. Forgetting a place that you were for so long inhabiting, rejecting it by trying to recall. The note, the word and the sentence in a book. The book sometimes has blue lines, or it is blank. Perhaps the words are under the bottom of a date. It is a calendar of unknown listed tasks, most of them unresolved. What a great thing to not be productive with painting. Is it a scribble, a mumbling or a humming painting? To not speak the language is to abandon all the standards of communication. She doesn't speak Greek and what a surprising paradox that she insists to try to speak using the most conventional medium of our times. Looking forward to see you around.