‘Wheelbarrow (Proposal)’, ‘Birthday’
Whitechapel Gallery, London | 2023
Performed as part of Escape the Slick (group exhibition)
Link to the event page here.
Escape the Slick is an exhibition curated by Duchamp & Sons - Whitechapel Gallery’s Youth collective that I was a part of - in collaboration with artist Gaby Sahhar. The event also featured an open mic which gave a stage for the following two texts.
‘Wheelbarrow (Proposal)’ is a text piece made in collaboration with artist Natasha Brown. A few months before this event we collaborated in writing a proposal for a certain exhibition from another institution around the theme of ‘Slowness’. It was ultimately rejected, and here we read the rejected proposal from a large piece of tracing paper. We also read it just a beat off of each other, so one artist was always a few words ahead or behind the other, resulting in a strange and layered reading.
‘Birthday’ is the Instagram caption I wrote for my birthday post I scheduled to post the next day. It was a most interesting experiment to read aloud a social media caption, keeping in mind the emoji choices.
Wheelbarrow (Proposal)
Not unlike a pram that must be pushed and pulled awkwardly through a public space (it cannot be left outside), we propose to push and pull a wheelbarrow through the gallery. Not overflowing, Christmas decorations are held by Wheelbarrow, just taken down and, simultaneously waiting to be put up. Wheelbarrow acts as assistant for the decorations that are reluctant - unable to be lifted alone and too heavy for festivity. In dialogue with Wheelbarrow, a plain (de-decorated) wreath hangs on the gallery doors (open to other locations).
Yes, Christmas has passed, but perhaps taking decorations down needs to be an event. Grieving is in the slowness of before, I do not have you during festivities and I would like to acknowledge it. Wheelbarrow is not ever put down, it sometimes takes both of us to lift it.
(I wish it would last).
We wheel the barrow almost numb to its existence (the ignoring of the barrow giving it no less of a presence). It is as much a burden as it is not. Plain wreath as bystander - residual, leftover - hangs eerie with the call to be decorated. It remains still in the tense conversation with Wheelbarrow, melancholic and fundamentally, crucially - not coated in berries, cinnamon sticks, and ribbons.
Birthday
conceptually I am now 25 years old 🎂 so excited to keep living ⚡️💕✨ 🫵🏻 you (world) better be ready for me 🗣💕🫶🏻 can’t wait to encounter objects and Nature and people and concepts I’ve yet to have the pleasure of wrapping my head around 🍨 I’m ready for you!!! 🦋
the human experience is so magnetic. I want to do everything yet nothing at all. holding myself accountable and setting the pages free. I look you in the eyes and hold a hand up to the glass. I take a picture with flash to guarantee that something residual reflects back to me every time. I cling onto a pseudo-hope that bends and warps like a tendon trying to release its tension. I tour as if a train is not tracking my footsteps and standing taut on my ligaments. I pull a muscle here and there. I realise I am conceptually on my 25th year and hold the potential to hop on more.
I take the residual out of my sight and place it on the grass to touch it. it crackles because it wants to. it is volcanic in its conception. it is electric in its vision. it is magnetic in its future, and I am hopeful in its presence.
25!!!! 💕💞💘💖💗💓🚂