The author walking at Le Petites Dalles Normandie, France
This can describe many things:
Blacking out: drunk, you went to the club, you danced and maybe you fucked somebody but without the memory, it’s a
scene change in a film, the cut-to-black of a softcore porno, the grisly murder or car crash that we can only imagine because it’s
off camera, like the service and maintenance labourers at high-powered dinner functions or state events, armies of the unrecognised on whose backs ride the faces of the easily identified are carried
sleeping on trains, in cars, past the aggressively monotonous scenery from an aeroplane, and when you land your luggage
magically appears out of the wall, or the floor, or the ceiling; there in your new destination, without your slightest intervention since check-in, just like
groceries at the supermarket, or the toys on wire shelves, best-sellers stacked in inspired rows with erudite precision on designer wood-block tables; just like kitchen towels, garden tools, and USB drives ordered through the “series of tubes” that criss and tie our crossed world of
ideas and supply chains and everything else that resists being easily catalogued, labelled, placed into a Universal Hierarchy of Reason that which refuses to be rendered in terms of
Capital, that great grey goo driving to render all things equivalent to all others, albeit in varying proportions in
perfect mathematical harmony ever-lasting until the eventual
heat-death of the universe.
I think this would make a fantastic exhibition. “Movement Without Motion: That Which Unseen Yet Moves Our World” There is space here for photographs and stories from slow-boat international shipping crews, who move vast arrays of the world’s consumables but play no part in our imagining of it. There is space for the workers and maintenance employees who create the appearance of effortless perfection at museums, government buildings, fancy hotels, and anywhere that can afford such illusion. All of the fascination with “The Secret Lives:” of Dildo Manufacturers; or chocolatiers; factory-workers making Nike, Adidas, Apple and Samsung products; of cannabis ice-cream artisans; all of that can be fit in here.
I view it as chance to humanize, dare I say empathise with, the movement that we see around us which is completed without notice or attention or thought. The human machinery that all too often is erased even in language: “the city repaired the potholes.” Yes, but there were people there doing that labour, providing that service, in that moment. Human will against the world. Just possible plans for the future…whenever someone needs a commission idea.