May 2023
Bernat Daviu
In a facility in Scottsdale, Arizona, they sell the sheer possibility of revival, that it doesn’t end with a switch from on to off, but that through engineered temperatures, we can continue to evolve, become a part of something greater and as yet unknown. Stand by, transport, storage, deep cool, return.
Walk down the freezer aisle, and climb down into the upright one, past the frostbit bundle of asparagus, here lies the possibility. A new space opens up, the fog-like effect of transformation blurs the boundary of where your world ends and the image begins, rejecting the future as we know it.
You emerge to find yourself in a converted garage of a former industrial gas factory. Originally a site of transport, delivery, storage and retrieval, where alternative forms of production have now replaced the past. Across the street, self-storage leases additional empty space to the city.
In ancient Egypt, the pelican appears in funerary tombs for non-royals, associated with death, its large pouch transporting items to the afterlife. The ancient word for coffin can also translate to an egg, essentially returning one to the place they hatched out of, or starting again at the end.
These paintings establish an intensified version of one's own physical presence, in front, outside of the image. Visible gestures, exposing the construction of an image; misinterpreted narratives recounted in another language, with displaced punctuation. Relationships emerge; personal, linguistic and historical, with opposing versions of space and time. You can enter from many points, feet without bodies walk in, up and outside the frame. There are holes, steps and traps to maneuver around; shadows that obscure, and become the image itself. Experiences temporarily stored, only to transform back from solid into thin air.
We have confidence revival may be possible.
-Sarah McNulty, 2023