4

– Autumn/Winter 2001

Moderato Cantabile

Mark Cousins, Cerith Wyn Evans

An exhibition would show something, something like a picture. A critical exhibition might find some way of disrupting the scene so that we couldn't walk around it without being reminded of walking about it. But what would an installation in an exhibition be which constantly showed a picture (not the artist's) as a disruption of a settled scene? Would this be an extallation in an inhibition?

We enter the room and come into the presence of a series of objects whose role in an undisclosed narrative strikes us even before their perception as objects. It was the opposite of a shop. Rather, they were props for a story one had missed, staring at them as a deaf man might a radio. And yet there was no detail; each element was the minimum unit which might participate in a series.

But a series would go from unit to unit, where each unit would be exhibited. But I am in the space of a story I cannot tell, and whose space is not this installation.

On the wall is a picture, hung without regard of the graffiti it partially obscures. Either the image has not been hung properly in respect to the objects, or the objects are not placed properly in respect to the image. What is the space in which a narrative object meets an image? Somewhere that is out of place, the skew, the hinge in reality on which the relation of image and object swings. This relation is normally accomplished in the mind; here it is accomplished in the room in which two spaces flap against each other - image and story: representation