A summer event at Flaca

Nice, and what is your work?

As we may get stuck between personal identification and gathering thematic, we won't let a text – press release or critical reflection – let reduce the fantastic adventure one might go through. Where chunks and bits of desire, trials, poses, tests, materials, colours, figures, reflections, references and snapshots have been excavated, realized and assembled one by one and altogether in personal freedom and collective empathy – “Yes milady, look I am sorry, it's a bit fuzzy, can't tell you one story”:

One can tell about all those figures that appear throughout the pictures, and about those ufo-like objects, Hawaiian umbrellas in bronze, silver and gold ready to land in the backyard, and about the plaster masks once dancing on the faces of the same figures performing dramatic cinema quotes and A Memo For T. on the opening, and about the melancholic videos showing two men talking about artists and art-lovers in a modern style villa, and about the same plus other guys posing in a row of pornographic poses, were they women, and about the photographic mosaic showing all of them, and the women, posing in front of a black wall that you recognize being the one you saw as you were drinking a cocktail at geometric-flower-like tables in the backyard, and about turning around a wooden structure that goes through the ceiling from the cellar to the upper showing room, and the in-between-two-floors stuck monitor showing the figures crossing each other one by one in different abstract urban contexts, and about going upstairs and getting a fourfold hint on the yet loose criminals running in the city, and once upstairs wondering about that romantic snapshot of Jagger-looking New York based artist Astra Focus facing two videos in the wooden tower, one showing a talkative psycho geographical walk in London city, another showing two guys mimicking a dancing show, maybe the one exposed to the front window showing two girls rehearsing a dance on uncomfortable electronic music heard since the beginning, and about turning around the video tower again, feeling like a spiral, passing by an energetic geometrical black pattern spreading on the wall, and seeing the cellar and the still-stuck-in-between-the-floors video of the by-crossers, and about leaving this “full-on” location which façade got covered by letters in 70’s style typographies spelling the word performance.

Yves Mettler