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The starting point as well as the common denominator for my exhibition is all the metal – various in origin, age, and weight – that has piled up in my workshop.

A certain metal madness makes me go through garbage cans, search the beaches, pick up random pieces of metal on the street, call peculiar numbers, and beg my friends to spare junk. Rusty nails, cigar boxes, cartridge cases, pieces of wire – anything goes. Every item has a story of its own, and I think I can even remember the givers and the finding places of these treasures.

Sometimes, it`s immediately clear what a find will become. Is it interesting as such, or will it be combined with other items, become something that will be given a name, and eventually end up in an exhibition? Sometimes, the junk needs to be stored for a while; it needs to become mine, and to permit me to use it. Parts of the material require complex techniques and several stages in order to become something. And even then , the result might seem haphazard.

Pictures

*cntrl (ooo)* Everything can happen. It has already happened. It happens all the time.
An installation in several parts about control, surveillance, shelter and exposure.

Is order transferred through agreements on categorization, sorting, selection, inclusion/exclusion, distribution of personal numbers, id-cards and passports? Does this happen by means of special educated security police, military, watchmen, probation officers, boundary guards, night watchmen, teachers, mass media, church, ethics, moral, citizens, neighbours, colleagues, acquaintance, friends, lovers, family, parents and children? Bodyguards? How is the encounter performed? Are we each others subjects and/or objects? Where are the limits? Of what significance is the direction of a human being in the matter of creating sense and sentence? How can we conduct one selves?

Thank You! directed to Anders and Ranka Fransén, Tarmo Halme, Tapio Tuominen, all my nearest friends and Svenska Kulturfonden.

Marina Ciglar
marinaciglar(at)gmail.com