Sunday, 10 May 2009

.Silent Alarm

So here we are. Almost there. Escaping the bandwagon effect, oiling joints (even those we never thought that existed), rummaging through fears, putting the puzzle together. Together we cope. Nelda, Milda, Kieran, Ryan and me. From Tuesday the 12th until Sunday, 17th of May, the puzzle will be hanging in mid-air. Make sure you will catch a piece.

(To reprise the atmosphere of Chlamydiart at its very start, what follows is the thesis of our group. Excuse me if it looks a bit sugary, but I wrote it in the midst of an all nighter, almost within a fever dream, as I was trying to join the dots. Our dots as a group. Hopefully, it will line you up with our vision too.)

Chlamydia is a common sexually transmitted infection caused by the Chlamydia trachomatis bacterium, an obligate intracellular parasite of eukaryotic cells only found in humans and it is a major infectious cause of human genitalia and eye disease (Chlamydia Conjunctivitis)

(Or: How We Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Disease)

Art was always considered an elitistic realm of the few, made by the few, so, inevitably, addressed to the few as well. But isn’t Art (the need to ask questions, keep evolving and generally unveil, underline or tweak reality) similar to Life’s fundamental goals? Wondering about the relation between Life & Art is like questioning life’s relevance to living.

Colliding Chlamydia with Art, we created a juxtaposition addressed as Chlamydiart, wanting not only to pinpoint Art’s infectiousness, but also spread it to the public consciousness like a disease for the eyes (and maybe the genitals!). Then why Chlamydiart instead of Glaucomart or Catarart (which also sound interesting)?

The answer is simple. In real Art –or at least the eidos we are interested in as a team, the artist works as a thoroughfare to his/her mind and his/her soul. It is cathartic. And like all things cathartic, it feels as if you just shed several layers of skin and you are left walking around naked, perhaps still in questioning and wounded for sure. However, this wound, this pain heightens you to the next level.

Easy doesn’t make you grow. Easy doesn’t make you think; and with getting ourselves through a highly demanding second year, we, as Chlamydiartists, got infected from ‘messing around’ with Art, but we are not willing to get cured any time soon. Instead, we decided to exhibit our disease and showcase our will to leave pure shores behind, in case we might find an ocean.

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