Dream object / installation

* from the nose: sound of snoring *

A dream object made by Paul Cowdell, seen by NN in a dream of his.

Levitandum: an exhibition by Patrick Hourihan and Kathleen Fox

Levitandum is an exhibition of work by Patrick Hourihan and Kathleen Fox, both revealing through automatic means those concealed worlds of wonder submerged in the unconscious.

 Untitled automatic drawing by Patrick Hourihan

 Untitled automatic drawing by Patrick Hourihan

Untitled automatic drawing by Patrick Hourihan

 Slow Ride At Sunrise by Kathleen Fox

 He Fly Almost by Kathleen Fox

 Iron Journey by Kathleen Fox

Patrick was born in London, UK, and is a member of SLAG.
Kathleen was born in South Africa and is a friend and associate of SLAG.

Both currently live in the UK.

The exhibition will be held at Arkitektvägen 44 in Stockholm.
Private view on Saturday 13 April, 14.00 – 18.00.
Open to the public on Sunday 14 April, 13.00 – 16.00.
Viewings thereafter by appointment: call +46 736 17 20 20.

Aphid mummy

Toad dressed up as Easter Hare

Voodoo Gong: the Apeman Walking Backwards to Hell

an exhibition of drawings, photographs and collages 
by Merl Fluin and Paul Cowdell
 

at Arkitektvägen 44, Stockholm, Sweden
Saturday 24 November, 14.00 –18.00
Sunday 25 November, 12.00 –15.00
Other times by appointment: arkitektvagen44[at]gmail.com or +46 736 17 20 20

Merl Fluin and Paul Cowdell are members of SLAG (the Surrealist London Action Group) and sometimes also of the Stockholm Surrealist Group. They are also the joint directors of the Bureau of Surrealist Ethnology. They have participated in Surrealist explorations and events internationally, including in Athens, Chicago, Istanbul, London, Prague, Reading (Pennsylvania), Santiago de Compostela and Stockholm.

The title of this exhibition was suggested through objective chance in a letter to Merl and Paul from their friend John Andersson. The images presented are all the results of investigations into automatism, dreams, objective chance, interpretive delirium and mad love.

Under a branch of acutely observant owls

Weary, trying to pass under a branch of acutely observant owls, I leaned back in horror to grab my ankles.

"Turn back!" the fattest of the birds cried, rising as to warn. But it was going nowhere, since the odd and cursed follower of my strayings had already seized it by the legs.

And as that composite beast, half light, half shadow, casually introduced himself to the dreamer´s hearing, saying: "Your posture now embodies the correctly conducted procedure of self-observation according to me, the abominable Piltdown Man", the horrified owl was screwed on to my neck while violently flapping its wings, thus propelling a bristly appearance to my soon externally materialized  ears. 

At the same time a certain dimness and immobility set in to restrict my hitherto unbounded headless vision. And as bedazzlement shortly befell the synergy of our as yet unspecialized imagination, we were one.

No longer weary, the carriage could pass under the branch and roll into the woods, to the bleating glee of cheerful comrades.

Where are they now?

/ NN

XX

/ G N

Ornaments

particles emerge, move about, are enlightened

like predator fish striking at its prey

soon to have never eaten again

dressed for a party as thieves

when sleep is poured into tall glasses

we deviate inwardly, to circulate

of the slowing down of the clapper´s pendulum motion

or why we are here, the depth of waves

we know nothing, therefore time-being never splits

we are ornaments, our task is to sit crouched

over the dead trunks of our dredged victims

being as foolish as we are unafraid of being caught

our sun rises with modification

it goes down, for something it must do

over the walls, chairs, hand shanks, beds

pregnant with stature, like the mobile continent

of nondecomposable plastic debris that is driven by

the Gulf Stream back and forth between the coasts

we set about to prowl along the roads and walls

/ NN

They passed close by me

the lovers 

and the lyrebird

sacrificed for the monster analogy

when children play with illusion

standing at the eye of soul  

in relative and mental kingdom

Temptation!      GNovak

                                       

gabriellanovak.com 

For those who will not be able to read most of the new novel by Mattias Forshage, Tesserakt eller Konsten och dödsstjärnan (Tesseract, or Art and the Deathstar) (oh, in fact there are some parts in English in it, but they wouldn't tell the main stories), we can at least give a hint about the contents by this box from the ongoing solo exhibition of MF's in Stockholm suburb Abrahamsberg, a box "Tesseract 1: the haunted house" which deals with some central themes.

Open Air Reverie