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'Things After Things' by Anna Ceipe at 427, Riga

Title unknown

White space, there’s a seating surface.

In the scene, there’s a wooden stem leaned against the wall.

- Why don't we ever eat from this plate?

- You don't understand, there are things to gaze upon only with your eyes. This dish has long turned into a relief and we will never eat from it.

Letters in the program start to go rickety, jumping between the lines. Supposedly this is a play since here are all these festive-looking people, drinking cooled drinks while meditatively observing clouds in the sky—those have been particularly unpredictable this summer.

Professor enters and asks—what would you say if the aliens arrived?

Wait, I’m already colorblind, not to be involved with any aliens. Besides, the predator has thermo-vision. Aliens helped Liedskalnins to build his Corral Castle in Florida. People who’ve been there say that it’s impressive. Photos show it differently as possibly Liedskalnins himself would say if he wouldn’t be rotting. Was it really Claritine? [...] Stem against a wall draws a shadow that seems to have changed its angle against its sun cover. Perhaps the stem has leaned a bit lower? Observing it closer it starts to seem longer—I wonder how long? Damn it, why can’t this place ever write dimensions of works? Now being close to it I can’t be sure about the authenticity of this wood. But what else could it be? Hm, I guess it really wasn’t Claritine.. Its fiber is so crude, the right color, I even feel its aroma, drops of juice, someone has polished its ends (how do I know that?), I’d like to check on it and touch, however…


Let’s not mention Beckett, we all know what we are waiting for. Flicks, sparkle, flash, halo, after all an exclamation mark—luckily we will only have to live with it in our imagination. Even without a limber catwalk past the stem, enjoying or denying it, we see what it is. It’s a wooden stem leaned against the wall. But what if it disappears during nights and is actually made of gold hidden under the wooden surface? Perhaps it’s not a stem, but a robot observing us and adjusting room temperature. In her research Japanese roboticist, Masahiro Mori looked at the human attitude towards robots. She discovered that once robots started looking more like humans people got more emphatic towards them, however, people felt repulsed once robots began to look too human. It may only appear a stem, but actually it’s sending Bolt drivers data that shows people gathering in this area. But why does this stem look like a stem? The stem that’s not there. Cautious evening light flows through the gallery windows—inside, electric light falls on it, reflecting light on artworks, skin, fabrics, glasses, and drinks. We reflect light, the gallery walls reflect light. Our eyes feed on light. Pigments in retina soak up stem’s electromagnetic radiation. Our stem could exist in frequency of 400-760 nanometers, you could look at it nice and good and see its critical stand towards retinal art, air boils as if I’m inside a heated public bus which has been turned into camera obscura (Ats Parve, 2015) while it’s +33 outside,—we have fallen in cornea like a stubborn eyelash, however, if you ask me where is the stem I must disappoint you with a discovery that the stem we imaged together isn’t visible in any of frequencies.

— Kaspars Groševs

9.7.20 — 15.8.20

Photo by Līga Spunde


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