EXHIBITION TEXT - FRUITING BODY
October 6th 2023
CANTINA, Aarhus (DK)
‘Your very gay hair unleashed
Blows in the wind
and the very gay wind in turn
knocks over onlookers
Their elevator stares
catch the sun
on their way down
From scrutiny to stargazing
...’
Mads Borres solo show ‘Fruiting Body’ is an installation of works with several entry points and exits. Firstly, these points are apparent in their variety of materials in use, like natural resins, silver, steel, sound and poetry. Secondly, the show presents a kind of playful ambiguity in its sculptural, sonic and textual choices that cohabit the space.
Is the human species really capable of tangible change and of giving non-human life an equal part in the world they inhabit mutually?
‘Fruiting Body’ argues for the validity of a fragmented and mosaic view of living, full of contradictions. As time passes, a myriad of relations with other humans, non-humans and phenomena of all kinds overlap, conflict and resolve themselves organically. Life goes on.
And then what?
It is in the fleeting fluidity of relations that we find the status of the object, the flow and composition of the work of ‘Fruiting Body’.
‘While handling the necklace
I wore last night
an unruly centipede
I told it to get back
In its case and continue
to dream of freedom’
In the case of arguing for a much needed mutualism, how do we get past the basic human fear, of the buzzzzzing of a wasp or the long legs of a spider?
The fear and hostility towards insectual presences, sometimes result in something like a dark estrangement.
To be an insect is literally as the word says - to be cut into sections. It is by the clear distinction of its bodily parts and their seamless coherent movement that we deem the insect as something Other. Something that has little to do with humanity, or even less. Something to reject.
In the same way, it is the normative rejection of queers that both hurts and nourishes its modes of dissidence. For some queers, the act of building identity is patching together the dreams and utterances of queer passerbys, queers present and past and what they leave behind - in spite of normative society.
‘Fruiting Body’ applies to the continuous fruitful mutterings of fruity artists, but also to the ability of queers to connect strongly across time and geography, and against the odds, being born outside of a sometimes disassembled community.
So what does it mean to be an insect in a human-fixated world, besides inspiring the drone-like work conditions of industries? When will the radical and non-conforming rhythm of the world be seen as a form of mutuality rather than as parasitism?
The fear and hostility towards insectual presences, sometimes result in something like a dark estrangement.
To be an insect is literally as the word says - to be cut into sections. It is by the clear distinction of its bodily parts and their seamless coherent movement that we deem the insect as something Other. Something that has little to do with humanity, or even less. Something to reject.
In the same way, it is the normative rejection of queers that both hurts and nourishes its modes of dissidence. For some queers, the act of building identity is patching together the dreams and utterances of queer passerbys, queers present and past and what they leave behind - in spite of normative society.
‘Fruiting Body’ applies to the continuous fruitful mutterings of fruity artists, but also to the ability of queers to connect strongly across time and geography, and against the odds, being born outside of a sometimes disassembled community.
So what does it mean to be an insect in a human-fixated world, besides inspiring the drone-like work conditions of industries? When will the radical and non-conforming rhythm of the world be seen as a form of mutuality rather than as parasitism?
‘All around
growth is encouraged
fertilised by mint flavoured
bubble gum
I see
plants overturn the roads
bindweed breaks
the street signs
and lights
Instead of
walk and stop
bloom and wither
bloom and wither
bloom and wither
bloom and wither
bloom and wither’
Poetry excerpts are from
The Valley Came To Me,
Mads Borre 2023
