Escape Attempt, Museum Kiscell - Municipal Picture Gallery Cordially
It all began with me having to imagine a tower in the space of a church, the nonexistant tower of a church ruin, to be built on the inside, a tower that inevitably recalls the Himmelsleiters of the middle ages in this space, on one hand, because the greatest difficulty in the space of the Kiscell Museum – one with which every exhibitor struggles – is the involvement, evasion, emptying or filling of the sacral space, the protection of the planned work from being rushed down by space; on the other hand, one also recalls Tatlin's profanisation in the spiralling madness of the Internationale, the tower with no beginning and no end, Babel without the Bible, which is a straight way to the loser's side at a rocket launcher dock, the piece left on the Earth, in the church space that is stiffened to a ruin – and on the top of the tower, I should imagine the neon inscription, informing of the failure of the grandiose scheme to be conceived in breathtaking height.
Then I should imagine the lime shell cast ashore from an ancient red sea, a form frozen to be the icon of evolution, which is reminiscent of the creation of matter and is prehistoric, giving the whole exhibition a 3.5 milliard-year span backwards, straight from the exhibition hall of the Berlin Natural History Museum, where its material stands for space and time, and its star shape for perfect, self-organising symmetry, a property of closed systems, which immediately resonates thoughts around chaos theory and its waning in the visual, but here and now, all this has to be transferred, mentally, to the dematerialised sphere of a video projection, brought to life by a tapestry of rhythm, which may be reflecting on the carpet of forms and patterns, one of the most beautiful manifestations of evolution, a carpet of rhythms that is itself part of a tapestry of texts, a tapestry that was woven and shaped between two languages until its meaning was completely distorted in the cultural translations from German to Hungarian and back, leaving us with its throb, so this is what I should imagine now, the way all these elements impact each other. And then I remember that the Vatican has buried the hatchet in the case of Darwinian evolution, thereby also acknowledging the esthetisation of the development of life, because the generation of patterns, in the „decade of the brain“, when everything got subordinated to neurobiology without notice, also uses Darwinian pattern generation, as much as possible, but it is possible to some extent at least.
Having imagined all this, I should complement it with a warehouse shelving to recall museum space within the church space, on which fossils... all right, but a fossil in this context is no longer a fossil, but, whether it is a bone, a jug, a cake, anything that objectified out there becomes a relic in here, but – I am being shepherded in the meantime – all this should not be conceived as an instance of pathos, all right. I am also supposed to imagine further supplementary materials, more precisely a section of a rat's brain, the image of which was deciphered by a biologist; the cortex_layers_iROI.gif, which I had sent him, was from the atlas of the rat's brain – for this, too, is a pattern, its brain pattern, which was mapped in the atlas, the medium of the enlightenment, so it was copied from a page in such an atlas. The word "coronal" refers to the plane of the section, which is perpendicular to the longitudinal axis of the animal. We can see the cortex – which is not sulcated in rodents, unlike in primates –, and the ‚lower‘ structures like the corpus callosum, the thalamus or one ventricle of the brain in the lower left corner of the image. The magenta rectangle – as the filename indicates – is a "ROI" (region of interest), which refers to the adjustable frame of scientific image analysis. The ROI embraces the whole height of the cortex, and emphasises the layered structure of the cortex (layers), which is a result of the uneven distribution of neurons of different sizes. The width of the ROI also roughly corresponds to one or a few cortical columns, which are the larger units of information processing. What I have received yet another picture puzzle about are patterns of the layered brain, this time at the deeper domains, and at this point I recall the sound-picture-rhythm layers of the above mentioned tapestry – the layers which define this exhibition as well as Komoróczky's wallpaper systems or the degree of madness in OCD patterns... and it is precisely these layers which – once we imagined them – could comprise a tapestry of theory, which should incorporate neurobiology and picture theory, evolution and the self-generation of pattern systems, as well as the rhythmical connections between music and image, the position of space, the role of time and the fundamental questions of divine providence and human error signals – the following interview format is an attempt to escape; an attempt to escape having to theorise all this into a textual tapestry. For we need room and we need space for that truly nerve-racking, nightmare-generating, dangerous and sometimes daunting process which contains truthful information in the face of the outlined system, and allows insight through a keyhole into something that will find its real value in the light of the finished work, because we are working for the future and not for the present; and so, the following questions and answers will become a living part of this process, a piece of the organism, an organism which one cannot touch as a whole without dragging it down, without breaking its arc, so we are left with a single possible solution: to add rather than to take away.
Where did the work on this installation begin?
What do you think about providence?
Can one win when striving upwards?
Can one build a tower without guilt?
What was your toughest decision?
What is the idea behind the lime shell from the ancient sea and the possibilities of digitalisation?
What roles do you assume in this installation?
Where is the end of this work?
Does consciousness have an end?