The City is a Horror Story
Louis Mason- with work by invited artists Meg Stoios, Nellie Reinhard, Jack Hooper-Bell, Guillaume Savy and Andrew Treloar
The desert flowers open beneath them. The city crumbles to sand.
Compassion is bleached slowly out from their physical interactions and replaced by a single word, ‘alliance’, that quickly becomes code for everything that they have come to rely on in one another. They can say it whenever they need to. It takes on hard, hot edges and a very specific usage; begins to mean things like ‘safety from death’, ‘safety from fear’, ‘safety from isolation’. There is a long process of taxonomy, of map making. Each of them tries to describe love, to keep love in view. Love is, after all, what they have in common.
They make lots of drawings of one another during these months, and they are frightening things to look at.
The buildings were always full of sand. They spill out across streets that are canyons sunk between sheer walls of plate glass, and there are people inside the buildings, burning, suffocating, crushed together.