EN FR

The malignancy of stupidity: the cutest evil

Curated by Fabio Santacroce

The exhibition is on at Paris’ Lily Robert, opening May 11 and running to June 17. Image : Dan Bodan The malignancy of Stupidity: the cutest evil (la coscienza sporca), le perroquet…Yesterday sounded too sentimental…once more: repression/negation/vulnerability…BOTH SHOWS SHOULD HAVE THE SAME TITLES…I like your note about friendship. MARGARET HAINES Sharing the same title for two art exhibitions cannot really be considered an act of friendship. Including friends might also include the possibility and fear of losing them. Do you know that I recently promised myself to stay away from any kind of emotional involvement and sophistication? They make you crumble. HORIZONTALITY. Your video is sour but smells like cotton candy. A candid anathema. I DON'T WANT TO FORAGE ANY CULTURAL ENTERTAINMENT. Sharing the same title sounds more like sharing pains and joys. Do u care to go back to sentiments? The small evil, small bad things. The small bird, the small evil. Evil presents itself as cute. The bird is cute. Evil is cute. Evil does not always come as sinister, as always incendiary, as an obvious malignant pulse. Throughout the film, the bird is relief, comic relief, but in this cuteness, in this deception to the present moment, it is also evil. Cuteness is a neoliberal affinity. Snapchat, google, Instagram, facebook and Northern Europe are all exceedingly cute. “I get naked because women have gotten naked before me,” Sands Murray Wassink reads as he wears his Kate Millett Festival olive coloured t-shirt, naked. “But, you know,” Orlando answers as Kate, “these roles are very negotiable, unfortunately they become conflated when what we are truly looking for is symbiosis in an inter-subjective non-gender conforming coalition. But you know then, also sometimes, in the garden I also do my own thing, sometimes I just toil the soil.” CELESTIAL OPULENCE. SUCH A BEAUTIFUL SKY. We will probably make some soft drawings with soil, widespread on the floor. They might be accidentally cute, but they won’t call into question the devil. I’ve always believed that I had met him when I was a child and that my grandmother rescued me. I was scared of the devil. Those drawings will be cute, yes, but will be more about fear, untold whispers, unspoken love. Gentlized anger. Just like our works. Let's accept this only inconvenience. NEGOTIATING MY DARKNESS WITH A FLUORESCENT STOMACH. I want to keep on cultivating that melancholic mood I wasn’t really able to tell you about. The Perroqueet’s cut iridescent feathers smother the space, heaved emerald green wings reverberation: yellow, orange, red, blue, wings outspread, evil impenetrable locked despite everything to beauty, even in cuteness.

you face god and the camera at the same time / politics is for now, art is forever / an interview with Kate Millett / I'm in love with Judas

HD Video loop - 2016 - 10:46 min Starring: Sands Murray Wassink, Anna Maria Pinaka with Clara Amaral, Geo Wyeth. Music by Sky H1. In 1962, Jean Genet supplements his 1956 play The Balcony with two pages of stage notes: How To Perform The Balcony. He is harsh: simultaneously aloof and bitingly specific. “The photographers (last scene) must wear the outfits and adopt the mannerisms of the trendiest young people of the time and country in which the play is performed.” And, in conclusion: “All that I have written is not for the intelligent director. He knows what to do. But what about the unintelligent ones?” This rule tho = outfits and mannerisms of the trendiest young people. Feminist, author and activist Kate Millett in 1970 in Sexual Politics: "The Balcony is Genet’s theory of revolution and counterrevolution. The play is set in a brothel and concerns a revolution which ends in failure, as the patrons and proprietors of a whorehouse are persuaded to assume the roles of the former government. [...] Taking the fundamental human condition, that of sexuality, to be the nuclear model of all the more elaborate social constructs growing out of it, Genet perceives that is in itself not only hopelessly tainted but the very prototype of institutionalized inequality. [...] That the bishop is actually a gasman visiting the bordello’s “chambers of illusions” so that he can vicariously share in the power of the church only clarifies the satire on the sexual class system." Genet in 1962: "One more thing: the play should not be performed as if it were a satire on this or that. It is – and must therefore be performed as – the glorification of the Image and the Reflection. Only then will its meaning – whether satirical or not – become apparent." Sociologist, architectural and design theorist Benjamin H. Bratton in 2015 in For a Staging of Jean Genet’s The Balcony in 2007: "The Balcony takes place in an unnamed brothel, referred to only as a “house of illusions,” where powerful dignitaries *** – a judge, a bishop, and the chief of police among them – pay a monetary fee to shed their costumes of power and identities of authority, and to submit to the sweet sadistic abuses of the expert staff." *** But what: the patrons of the whorehouse (a ‘Judge’, a ‘Bishop’, a ‘General’) are first and clearly "EVERYDAY" men (a gasman, men with asthma) transformed through image into power needed to escape revolution? This transformation quenches everything? This mistake? In July, I travel to New York to interview Kate Millett. I stay with my fiancé Orlando and his new boyfriend. Orlando’s apartment is decorated like ours was in LA. Lace, clothing racks, lamps with ornate shades, and the same colors that somehow always follow the same bodies. For Orlando: maroon, brown, gold, light green, tea-beige, purple and Pantone number 16-2107, Orchid Haze. Orlando writes all day. His boyfriend works. I organize my interview questions for a 20th century icon in 2016. I cannot figure it out, what to ask Kate Millett. Orlando makes dinner, tastes risotto, calls his mother for recipes, asks about his love, now, today. I don’t have any answers for him. “You should ask Kate Millett for me,” he says, “a gender theorist will know what to do.” The next morning, Kate Millett cancels — & Orlando answers the questions about him meant for her as he plays her: “So let’s say I have a friend who wants to know how to deal with an active boyfriend, while you stay at home, cook and write?” “But, you know,” he answers as Kate, “these roles are very negotiable, unfortunately they become conflated when what we are truly looking for is symbiosis in an inter-subjective non-gender conforming coalition. But you know then, also sometimes, in the garden I also do my own thing, sometimes I just toil the soil.”