Fondazione Converso presents a solo exhibition by British artist Michael Dean consisting of a newly-commissioned sculpture and audio installation entitled “The End”. The exhibition is curated by Julie Boukobza, curator and Head of the Luma Arles Residency Program. The following email was written by Michael Dean as part of the forthcoming exhibition at Converso, opening January 22, 2020
To: Julie Boukobza
From: Michael Dean
December 9, 2019 at 16:32
Having two bodies of speakers stand in for two bodies communicating in the space
have a speaker suspended from the metallic ventilation pipe with audio cable connected to a record player at its feet. Play the record and there's the reading.
Zones of heart shaped door mat
Looking for a model of hate hated
of physical evidence
and then love through this
love fucking hate over
Mussolini's corpse touched by the mob
repetition of futurist portrait
What Happiness did to Sadness.
What Sadness did to Happiness.
What Hate did to Love.
What Love did to Hate.
What In did to Out.
What Out did to In.
What Out did to Out.
What In did to In.
the acoustic chromatic increments of ebby tone volumes in happiness become acoustic chromatic increments of ebby tone volumes in sadness
sadness volumes and sadness into happiness volumes.
angeruage anger and language
emotions and the physical world
violence and innocence of inanimate matter
taking my body to your body
with spit and hit and foot and heal and shit and piss and rotten and curse all the fuck over this corpse filth
no theres love
a smiticon (smite icon) for an emoticon (emotion icon) of hate hated.
A physical prism or filter through which to volume and engender love from off of hate for fucksake.
over a speaker
this microphone speaks
done in four colours more red yellow green blue black
love and hate in all the colours of the fucking rainbow.
Take these words and turn them into increments of love and hate
theres the percussion of utterance and the echo of ebby syncronies
timing smile with grimace rant with grin and giggle in grunt and shout with scream and
the long shtumm on the second record and then the smash as the conversation clashes in and out and back again
a voice exhibition of other Smiticons
two body size piles of speakers with this smite-icon in a colour hanging from the top of the trolley the handle
all these speakers contribute to the delivery of sound from the player which I imagine at the moment to be a record player..bit fucking fashionable these days I know but the availability of the face of the record the intimacy of the decision to interact.
I keep thinking feeling that the dialogue is recorded in the space. This echoey as fuck conversation. Two sides. One side recorded in proximity to her. One side recorded in proximity to him.
This played back room one playing her close. Room two playing him close.
to and fro
debate dialogue discourse diatribe
ebby syncopation of echo and instance
placement of rhythmic stress/accents where they wouldn't normally occur
physical syncopation emotional delivery
what shouting does to you
stances of shouting out
as much as put together a text of which I have tons to use as relevant material but want to try and make something specific for a book available from which to tear a page.
I feel like a sick fuck using this Mussolini shit
its something thats haunted me since I came across it as a sick fuck self taught teen historian
nevertheless there it is in relation to that fucking incredible futurist portrait of M by B
I can barely think of happiness and love for all the fucking ghosts
and yet there it is I fucking believe in love and the world is burning
sick fuck I told you so then in manner of a spell a fucking missive
of angeruage aimed at killing sadness
percussion of conversation
record her record him
what then stands in for that
shit heap of speakers not posh
record player on top
all this balanced on a trolley as in a busker for fucksake
the handle of the trolley moderated to equal the height of 175cm
this foam muff of a smiticon suspended from the handle
with necessary audio cable wrapped and tied connecting this
to the other speakers a body of collected speakers with a head of this etched foam
the records will be out of sync (certain attempt to incorporate the length of a walk to activate the second record being worked into the long shtumm of the second side.)
with each other
but the volume
equal I hope to the human voices..talking and shouting screaming desperately whispering sweet nothing sweet nothing.
That stands in for the recording made long before.
Think as much of the lights off as possible like literally in the dark
the light of the record players spinning waiting the drop of the needle
the sound of the needle at the end of the record.
In the manner of a fucking incantation
an equation of components as in a spell
take any dialogue
take a hateful dialogue
and infest it with love
declarations letter for letter annihilate the host I love
you I love you I love you
syntax distracted in syntax spell
incantation capacity put back together
again in the air
for being said
not read not dead
aloud in echo
im thinking nothing on the floor unless perhaps very large doormat hearts..heart shaped doormats for a heart shaped zone which each speaker stands on.
The trolley bodies with the speakers will have concrete tongue ballast I can work on the trolleys here in london accumulating the speakers and record players etc
I will need help getting the foam produced.
I can provide the outline
the image from which the outline came
could this be laser cut or water jet cut or 3d printed even out of foam?
Then we need to be able to connect all the speakers together
insert a speaker inside the foam..once the bodies are put together perhaps we could ship to Milan and have final sound work made and tested...a single long winding cable would connect each trolley
to the mains electricity.