The clocks are striking thirteen

This exhibition really resonated with me, and somehow, I think it may have been the reason the concept of post-truth took hold in my mind. The first sentence in George Orwell’s book is:

It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen. – George Orwell, 1984

This is what the theme represented:

I love that quote by Rumi. It’s divine.

The exhibition itself was a motley of mediums and art, some grotesque, some cultural, some tragic, all evocative.

The flickering TV screens were reflective of the information overload we witness in our society. And the underlying conspiracy theories of the post-truth era, such as subliminal messages. Or maybe it represented the atomization of individuals on social media, flickering offline and online. Or maybe the human condition itself, flickering alive and then gone?

The second video is of the artist who hand weaves the traditional clothing seen in the pictures.

The aerial shots of landscapes are Moath Alofi’s work, and it is breathtaking. He turns real landscapes into maps with his photography angles, and most importantly, every picture reveals something, shapes, objects, mundane or otherwise, which were unintentionally captured. Reminded me of Steph.

The worn out shoes have a heartbreaking story. They were real shoes from debris left behind by fleeing Syrians. And every story which accompanied the shoes was chilling. So chilling, I won’t repeat them here because I’ll get depressed all over again.

I forget the artist who created the fungi, but it is actually leather sculptures burnt to create this mushroom like effect. It was almost creepy to see these not-alive organisms organically spread across the wall and floor. It reminded me of Janet’s work, what it would look like if it it became 3D, except of course Janet’s is poetic and beautiful and these were a bit grotesque!


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