Naked and submerged in a salty solution, in total darkness and with every outside impression shut out, your body becomes the only anchor and your thoughts the only stop. Your movements make waves roll towards the sides of the isolation tank but as they roll back towards the body, they encounter a body that no longer exists. Fallen into the consciousness, the heart is the metronome and the breath the engine or the other way around, images project onto the retina. Multiple exposures in glimpses. Déjà vus from a common genetic memory.
You’re travelling along the road, the beaten road and out into the young country with the old soul, where the desert is the frame and the ocean a mirror or the other way around, conjuring up visions of artefacts, and animals emerge from the deep. Spirit animals put on skins and dance in a circle around the roaring machine.
The pieces in the exhibition Mustang Twilight are made up primarily of light, paper or cotton and found objects. They are created on the basis of an imagined stay in an isolation tank where the American primal soup of 1969 is bubbling up and bursting with references to cult films, art, scientific experiments and myth-making from that time in our development when revolt and the expansion of consciousness were at the head of the agenda.
The similarities between the exhibitionspace Pladsen and an isolation tank are conspicuous. The rectangular box with the slanted roof where the door, or the window, in, or out, is placed. A defined white room that simulates an undefined black non-room. The examination of the self is headless and the nexus is fumbling about in the grey area. Hence, the pieces in the exhibition could be regarded as a fragmented body with the psychology inherent in the individual body parts, while the soul is the poetry that arises among the parts.