Everything is medicine
6th - 22nd December 2017
‘I always imagined this show as a successor to ‘Everything can be broken’. That particular presentation had such a strong emphasis on de-creation and I feel like I do this a lot, I guess it’s my way of trying to make sense of things, by re-ordering them. There are strong similarities thematically with ‘Everything is medicine’, but I’m not taking things apart. It feels more positive, like I’m building something that can last.’ - Simon Linington
Hanging in the centre of the exhibition space, ‘Drift’, can be divided into two halves – above the aluminium frame and below. The frames materiality might make us think of a hardware store, workshop, or even a hygienic space such as a laboratory.
‘I wanted the frame, the divide between the above and below to be something hard and cold, clean also, but hard, that was the most important thing. I associate all of these things together with clinical environments like hospitals and health and our own bodies. That’s what the frame hanging horizontally is asking us to think about, our bodies.’ explains Linington.
A plastic dust sheet at first appears weighted down onto a fine mesh by a water and sediment mix but it is in fact held in an un-natural position using cable ties. The sediment is a memory of a solo presentation titled ‘Everything can be broken' at Division of Labour, where Linington deconstructed the architecture of the space to create a psycho-geographic landscape that explored the tensions in the mind body duality.
‘I always imagined this show as a successor to ‘Everything can be broken’. That particular presentation had such a strong emphasis on de-creation and I guess it’s my way of trying to make sense of things, by re-ordering them. There are strong similarities thematically with the two, only I’m not taking things apart this time. It feels more positive, like I’m building something that can last.’
Underneath the frame are four slate rocks. Under the feet of the rocks and in the fissures are pushed small pieces of paper. Linington imagined something he would like to happen whilst folding and placing each of them.
‘I like the idea of something like paper being able to penetrate a rock. The paper is really just a thought. Something that we usually cannot see. I wanted to fill the rocks with thoughts and ideas. You can see they are there but you don’t know what they are.’
Between the ceiling and the wall a textile is folded. A touring piece descriptive of how Linington works is manipulated to fit into each environment, ‘Shame’ in it’s new setting mirrors the folded paper in the rocks below.
An idea does not exist above or below, it is a thing in itself. The act of pushing the paper into the rock is a way of giving the thought a body and in turn something to focus on – it exists here.