Friday, September 1, 2017

Hanne Darboven at Deichtorhallen


The feed we are forced to endure, the stream choked down like faucet glued lips, the staggering vastness of information; the .jpeg format or any digital container as a finite set of pixels arrangeable already contains within it the entirety of images, every photo that could possibly be taken, most are noise but there are nudes of you in it, of your father, nudes of Napoleon, simply shuffle the pixel deck enough, one will be accurate, the trick is finding something meaningful in the babble, in the stream knowing what meaning would even look like.