All is double in this show ; i.e. the binary oppositions, an image divided in two parts, strawberry sausages, two curators, double gestures and two texts, things fall into each other coincidentally and infect one another.
THE FOUNTAIN AND THE SAUSAGE
We took a long walk to the lake Leman, the only populated place on Sunday's Lausanne. Walking along the water and retro-pretty flower beds of Lausanne, on our left side, we saw an image. In the middle of the upper part stood a rather normal Swiss nice house, surrounded by a well-cultured garden. Below was a fountain wall in a shape of a wave composed of three horizontal layers. It resembled a birthday cake: bottom thick and white, middle cream like yellow and the top brown glazed. The layers curl along the pavement, one on top of the other, festively extracting liquids.
Alberto thought it was very ugly and I thought it was rather beautiful. We agreed it was a matter of taste.
The focal point of this slice of reality was that it was composed of two aesthetically incongruent parts. The ideal house on top of the hill was somehow levitating above the fountain of peculiar looks.
The brown of the top layer is not the brown of a chocolate glaze. The light brown top, as it curls, waves and shines in Lausanne's sun, resembles a sausage. Yes, a thin light brown long shiny curly regular sausage.
The sausage on top of the cake disconnects the bottom from the top and connects the image with the strawberry sausages show, establishing the sausage a common denominator of all. Strawberry Sausages are about marriage of binary oppositions, where everything will be borderline between sublime and kitsch, deep and cheap, beautiful and repulsive, ''like an astral cake of angels after a slaughter'' (Bruno Schulz, 1934, from Cinammon Shops). A joyful vision of chaos. - Agata Jastrzabek
SOME GIRLS ARE BIGGER THAN OTHERS
It exists a certain time of isolation and there is also the castle: there are those new lives in an old palace. Knowing that Summer is the best season for brick-casting, by the end of each Spring the artist will get a Fed-Ex cardboard-box full of sea mud. A certain amount of management is required to get those busts done for the September "rentrée".
Since the city hosts the headquarters of the IOC (International Olympic Committee), by the lake of Lausanne, in Switzerland, sits The Olympic Museum; its entrance is happily ornate by an innocent cake-lookalike fountain. The waterfall is born over and around a brown concrete "sausage", that shines under the water film when the Sun warms up the Alps. A neoclassic pediment crowns a reddish mansion sitting on the arranged flowery hill.
There is this widely spread fad of interactive museums and Sunday family experiences, this is a matter of museology, as it is what we have between our hands here: a slippery strawberry-flavoured-wurst. A post-martial-invasion "chateau fort" hosts Culturgest, a remarkable art centre in Lisbon. I believe it does not grow from a mountain, but it does seem to when you regard its silhouette climbing over the surrounding residential buildings - do please notice that very close from it you can find a "plaza de toros". The pseudo-organic white monsters of Calatrava in Valencia and the madly cold and windy train station in Liège, Belgium.
Local taste and culinary wandering are overrated ventures, and I do find a certain awkwardness in the over excitement towards foreign cuisine; not to mention, naturally, annoying ethnocentric your-home-is-so-bright astonishments. The text accompanying the previous exhibition at Nosbaum Reding Projects and opening the present series of curated shows reads: "There is that matter of arrangement, also the question of origins and belongings and mainly this concern of good and bad taste". It does refer to a set of measurements issued within the exhibition practice of our contemporaries. These surroundings permit the existence of the fable you are now looking at. Entitled "Strawberry Sausages", this exhibition is a delicious combination; an aesthetic dichotomy showcasing artists practices to which the matter of the persona is midmost, may the artist concentrate in an intimated and isolated studio practice -"Neues Leben im alten Schloss"- or should he divagate from and around the very being of himself -"some girls are bigger than others, some girls mothers are bigger than other girls mothers". - Alberto García del Castillo
Curated by Alberto García del Castillo and Agata Jastrzabek