Crooked House

Crooked House

2023, 2 Fine Art Prints 

Fine Art Prints, dimension adjusted to exhibition room, pasted to the wall and manually reworked with cutters
Copies: 3 + 1 AP

Begegnung in den Bergen: ein schneebedeckter, schiefer Stall. Sein verwitterter Korpus, mit Ecken und Kanten, lehnt sich gegen zwei Gehstöcke, die ihn vor dem Sturz bewahren. Keine Absperrung. Das unleserliche Schild über der Tür zeugt von seiner früheren Bestimmung. Als ich die Perspektive wechsle, kommt mir ein Dialog von Megan Terry in den Sinn.

HE:  You’re not leaving this house.
SHE:  I can’t help it.
HE:  What do you mean you can’t help it?
SHE:  I can’t. I can’t help it.
HE:  Of course, you can help it. You can stay.
SHE:  No.
HE:  Don’t say that. You can’t say no to me. Not after all we’ve been through together. You can’t walk out on me. We’ve survived everything, everything. You can’t take this away. You can’t leave.
SHE:  I’ve got to.
HE:  I forbid it. I forbid you to leave my bed.
SHE:  That’s why.
HE:  That’s why what? That’s why what?
SHE:  You’re smothering me.
HE:  You! I’m smothering you! Me! What about me? I’m the one who’s been smothered around here. But I survived. I survived.
SHE:  I can’t help it. I’m sorry, but I can’t stay.
HE:  You’re going to stay.
SHE:  I can’t. I can’t help it.
HE:  You’re going to help it. You’re going to face it. You’re staying here.
SHE:  I’m not.
HE:  You are.
SHE:  You disgust me.
HE:  Big news.
SHE:  You disgust me!
HE:  And you know what you do to me?
SHE:  I’m getting out.
HE:  Not without me, you’re not.

Encounter in the mountains: a snow-covered crooked shed. Its weathered corpus, with corners and edges, leans against two walking sticks that keep it from falling. No barrier. An illegible sign above the door testifies to its earlier purpose. As I change perspective, a dialogue by Megan Terry comes to mind.