Nazgol Ansarinia at Raffaella Cortese

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Fragments, parts separated from their lives, they always seem beautiful, alien. They seem wounded, ominous, their meaning is fractured, in ways that can't be put back together. We place these objects to our foreheads and ask for their secrets, contemplate their use, rotate them in our minds. But this was their use, to be pressed to foreheads, interminably silent, hear the ocean in your head. 

Karla Black at Raffaella Cortese

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The adolescent, in darkened lectures, Art History, being taught the conjunction of phrases "Claus Oldenburg" and "soft sculpture." Google searches for "soft sculpture" produces a lot vague definitions, no definitive history, and a particularly egregiously unsourced wiki. Had all sculpture really been rigid before? Despite the inanity of the moniker, soft sculpture probably matters in its expression of a development in how we best see ourselves represented, and the materiality ever since still of course representative of us, of our our world as we see it, the softest garbage in the wind.

Karla Black at Raffaella Cortese



Black’s confectioneries artstudent recipes sugarcoated yellow. Formal experiments in candy-coating, yellow, unifying the fractional objects to the lowest common denominator in attempts to add them up to a sum greater than all the recipe's parts. A low calorie smorgasbord that can't really hold up that well.