Michele Mathison: Civilian
Whatiftheworld, Cape Town
Cape Town | South AfricaWhatiftheworld is pleased to present Civilian, a solo exhibition of new works by Michele Mathison.
When confronted with an abstract sculptural form in our visually dominant culture, both the untrained and the veteran art viewer’s first conscious thought might be – what is it of, can I recognise something? However, without realising, through the sculpture lending us its aura, we might also subconsciously notice its haptic sensibility, its materiality, its weight – and our first instinct is usually to reach out, to touch.
What would happen?
Will my finger come away dusty, or will the oils on my skin stay behind instead? Can I slip my hand into the fissures where the stone was cored away, will it get stuck? If I push with all my might, will it shift, or even topple? How loud would it be, in contrast to its stoic stillness now – as loud as the steel yard, the studio, with spinning blades and rattling chains, flying sparks and flaming torches? At least in the beginning – replaced, later, with swishing sandpaper and measured, gentle, “One, two, three, lift.”s.
Whatiftheworld is pleased to present Civilian, a solo exhibition of new works by Michele Mathison.
When confronted with an abstract sculptural form in our visually dominant culture, both the untrained and the veteran art viewer’s first conscious thought might be – what is it of, can I recognise something? However, without realising, through the sculpture lending us its aura, we might also subconsciously notice its haptic sensibility, its materiality, its weight – and our first instinct is usually to reach out, to touch.
What would happen?
Will my finger come away dusty, or will the oils on my skin stay behind instead? Can I slip my hand into the fissures where the stone was cored away, will it get stuck? If I push with all my might, will it shift, or even topple? How loud would it be, in contrast to its stoic stillness now – as loud as the steel yard, the studio, with spinning blades and rattling chains, flying sparks and flaming torches? At least in the beginning – replaced, later, with swishing sandpaper and measured, gentle, “One, two, three, lift.”s.
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