Cathedral of Shit

has taken a well earned GAP year

More Manifestism 8

Posted by cathedralofshit on July 5, 2010

Even less well known British artists Celine Condorelli, Nav Haq and Suhail Malik (!) are also exhibiting at Manifesta 8. This is a brilliant curatorial innovation: second rate artists are invited to curate a Biennial and, in turn, invite some second rate educators and curators to exhibit.
Biennials will never be the same again.

Remember Nav Haq? Used to do something at Gasworks. Here’s an old review from Spike magazine to remind you of more carefree days before the banks broke:

Gasworks, London

The first thing that stood out about this show was the great title, Slash Fiction – a genre of literature written by fans, where favourite TV shows or books are parodied and infected with some sexual occurrence. The other thing this show had going for it was the weird »visa« invitation card. At the opening, a mob of people were crowded around a desk while a bewildered gallery assistant demanded visitors to show their completed visas. I slipped past the mob and into the gallery, unfortunately the artist was on hand and immediately called me back. »No entrance without visa«. »I filled it in earlier and posted it to the gallery«, I lie, unconvincingly. Two weeks later I’m back at the gallery for a talk. One of the exhibition’s curators has just admitted the shows title was »a tangent«… at which point my heart sinks with disappointment. The curator is stumbling around reading from her typed up notes. She’s a cute young thing but looks nervous, now she’s handed the microphone over to the guest speaker, he’s playing a video clip from a BBC news article about a theme park in Mexico where you pay to be an illegal immigrant trying to get into America. Curator No. 1 gets up and quietly leaves the room, in the gallery’s corridor I introduce myself and let her know I’m reviewing the show. She invites me into the office to check out some jpegs. Whiles she’s clicking about on the screen, I get a great view down the front of her tiny little grey t-shirt, she looks up, scratches her head and stares me blank in the face. Without saying a word her legs slip open and I get an eyeful of English girl punany. No knickers, nice touch. »I want you to think about boarder territories and imaginary spaces«, she says as I fall to the floor and start licking and kissing her skinny white legs. I feel the power of her pussy calling me in as I hurriedly bury my head deep into her groin. The curator giggles a coy gasp of pleasure, bites her lip then tells me »we’re using the mainstream to disseminate information, all the time thinking about the differences between infrastructure and systems«. I look up, momentarily removing my face from her sex, her close cut pubic hair brushes against my cheek, black cotton skirt pushed up above her hips. »I’m sorry baby«, I say, »I just don’t see the correlation between the objects in the space and the intellectual rubric which the shows title references«. The curator looks scolded, pulls her skirt down and slides off the table. Back inside the talk, the invited speaker is still chatting away to the assembled audience. I leave the gallery and see a local youth with a pit bull terrier tugging at its leash. I walk straight up to the dog, look it straight in the eyes, bark five times and carry on walking.
Cedar Lewisohn


4 Responses to “More Manifestism 8”

  1. Colin said

    Didn’t Nav get the sack from Gasworks for being crap – that’s an amazing achievement in itself

  2. Tinkly Tots said

    Today I opened Art Review to find you had been mentioned. You can now sleep at night knowing that Matthew Collings knows what you’re all about and stuff.

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