2023, edition of 11, gel transfer, acrylic, oil paint, wax, charcoal, shellac ink and lead, single sheet binding and loose pages.
Dimensions: 14 x 8.5 x 1 inch or 21 x 35 x 2.5 cm
Institutional collectors: Herzog August Bibliothek, The Getty Research Institute, Tufts University, Bayerische Staatsbibliothek, Aga Khan Documentation Center M.I.T., University of Delaware, Bainbridge Island Museum of Art
The German word Brandstifter refers to someone who intentionally or negligently starts a fire. The sound of tearing unbound pages echoes that of a match striking. A fire can also be ignited through words, fueling minds to inflict harm or wage wars.
The dreamlike, haunting images of soldiers evoke the sense of relics from timeless conflicts. Unlike the Mysteria—an ancient Mediterranean festival where speaking was forbidden under penalty of death—these images depict soldiers forcing their way out of mouths. They demand to be seen and heard, serving as both reminders of past atrocities and, once again, as fire starters.
The use of lead as a material symbolizes the in-between, the shapeshifting. Though lead is considered a solid metal, it is soft enough to bend at the slightest touch, reminding us that nothing is ever truly static.
Who am I? What forces drive me that I so relentlessly wage wars, dismiss lives, to satisfy what? Is it my need to fulfill every wish, every whim? Or am I occupied by this bottomless hunger that swallows each and everything that crosses my way. Bigger, larger, higher – stretch out and claim as much as I can. Anything I can slap a price tag on. Slap, slap, slap – Slap to get it, slap to sell it. Slap, slap, slap. Bulldoze roads, deprive whole areas, dig craters into planets, boldly go. Air rights, human rights, free speech. Turn shit into gold – an illusion I relentlessly use again and again. [excerpt]
Quote by Bertholt Brecht.
First comes eating and then comes morality.