Artist: David Lieske
Venue: VI, VII, Oslo
Exhibition Title: Déformation Professionnelle
Date: October 25 – December 1, 2013
Full gallery of images, press release and link available after the jump.
Images courtesy of VI, VII, Oslo. Photos by Vegard Kleven.
I now live in an ugly high rise in some kind of an artist flatshare. Today is the big day. One of the artists will make a new large-scale piece with help from all of us. For this purpose an old barber’s chair is installed in the middle of one of the rooms that is now used as a studio, I think it is the living room or the so-called community room. The atmosphere is exuberant, almost euphoric. Everybody seems excited to be a part of this; everyone is highly motivated.
The legs and necks of each of my housemates (including my own) are meant to be elongated by half a meter. For this purpose, metal poles of the appropriate measurements are waiting to fill the gaps that are going to emerge between the body parts once the limbs have been severed, as the first step.
Video cameras and lighting have been set up and are ready to record the serial operations, which are meant to be executed in a factory ford-style manner. Monitors are plugged in – everything very professional. The final work of art is going to be a video. I am the first in the queue, I am getting strapped to the chair. An assistant is about to use the electric bone saw on my left foot as I think: “This is crazy!” and say that I no longer wish to take part. The saw is immediately stopped, I am unstrapped and without discussion free to go.
I swiftly leave the room. A few seconds later, I can hear the horrible screeching noise of the amputation saw from the outside, which is severing the first foot of one of my flat mates. Yet strangely, no screaming can be heard, they obviously used narcotics to numb the pain.
Suddenly everything outside of the studio is a huge party. Each room is jam packed with guests. I walk in the direction of my room. There are many people from the art world whom I cannot stand. At first I recognize XXXX XXXX and his girl friend whose name I just cannot remember. They stand in my way – I can’t get ahead.
I am extremely annoyed. I yell: “What do all these hetereosexual couples want in my flat?” No reaction.
In one corner of the room people are making music, mainly drumming, but also flutes lie ready to be picked up. I sit down and join in. Short happiness and relaxation, then already complaints again. “The music at this party is unacceptable,” a woman says to me, and I somehow know that she is right but still, I am irritated by this confrontational verberation, of my precarious mood. From the corner of my eyes I can identify one of the musicians as a fellow flat mate, but in reality she is only a neighbour. I say to her that we must stop this madness in the living room, these absurd operations and amputations. She agrees without words and points at a short, slightly overweight man who stands casually in a corner. He is the artist and responsible for all this barbarianism – I should really go and talk to him directly.
Link: David Lieske at VI, VII