Co nevidím

výstava v tranzit dielne, bratislava, 2011

Ne já.

diapozitiv, pás, plexi, 6m, 2011


Not me

 I open my left eye and leave the right one closed.  Today I don’t need them both.

Shot of a wall or ceiling.

I place my right hand in front of my eye, leaving it hanging there in the air a few seconds.  It’s my hand, I can feel it.  Move your index finger.  I move my index finger.  I take my hand away – it’s not very interesting.  I close my eye.  I think about my hand with bent index finger.  What if it’s still there?  Open your eye! I open my eye.

A right hand with bent index finger is stretched out in front of the eye.

Right hand with bent index finger. Why do you mention it?  Why do I mention it?  Don’t say anything!  I do not say anything.

Singularity, a record

SD video, 2011


No matter how I move, with my hand or my whole body, I think of something or someone.  I say something and then deny it.

I set up a situation.

But nothing changes anyway, so it seems.

The essence of everything changes, but mysteriously enough it also remains the same.

There are processes and situations which I can influence through direct action.

And hidden behind it all are images which evoke anxiety within me, phantasmagorical anxiety.

I don’t know where they come from, but they’re there.

I gather up all my courage.  I use a trick to unveil individual images.

I use guile to deceive myself, to fool my own senses.

And then they’re right there in front of me.  Anxiety grips my throat and tightens, I cannot speak.

But what I see is ridiculous, there’s absolutely nothing to be afraid of.

What have I learned about myself?

Follies, nonsense.

The combination of these images offers nothing.  Have I deceived myself or been deceived?

Who has deceived whom?

I just can’t tell how it is.

This threshold is where madness begins.

Isn’t it?