Derrida once pursued the question of hospitality. Can you welcome someone whose name you do not yet know? Can you open the door before knowing who is arriving? If you can, the welcome is sincere; if you cannot, hospitality has already become part of border management. Unconditional hospitality is therefore always impossible: if the host retains sovereignty, they cannot be fully open; if they become fully open, they are no longer the host. The name thus becomes the first step in the subject’s enclosure. This exhibition is built precisely upon this impossibility.
Continue reading “Hospitality, Narrative Grace, and the Warm Head”A Lure, A Lament at Gallery 456
A clamor of murmurs without end. Several ghostly strands twisted strangely yet remained formless, wispy, and clinging, yet never settling into anything definite. Moving, then halting; halting, then moving again. Soft as if boneless, without body heat, yet inducing a tremor from within: a sudden burn, gooseflesh blooming in patches, sticky, viscous—caught and entangled by a reckless surge of ghostly energy. One slips from the ordinary into a hollow. A Lure, A Lament offers, at first encounter, precisely such a sensation. And yet its murmuring voice continues to drift, recounting wave after wave of fragrant air.
Continue reading “A Lure, A Lament at Gallery 456”