Big Bag at Moderna Museet, Stockholm
with Nico Arauner and Barbara Klawitter
August 30, 2016
A piece dug from quarries, shale pits, junk shops. The soil shook off, a rusted pant, a plain geode, a planar dress replanted like a bulb. Mining the secondhands, sieving Humana. We approach these garments as objects necessarily found, used, carrying histories. Ripe as natural materia, such pieces are already in a state of telling decomposition.
In the styling and reconstruction of the clothing, precision matters less to us than the grammar of erosion. Sun beaten into a wrinkled face, bleached. The torn-out security tag taking with it a pebble of cloth. We take “worse-for-the-wear” as a method, decay providing a type of control different than that of sewing, surging.
Rather than a brand or unified entity, we are a group of three artists who find joy in creating together. We play. A logo, it’s gloss or mask, wouldn’t represent us appropriately. Neither would a portrait of any of us as individuals. Treading the threshold between self and other, the source of these garments demands that they be performed. As we take fashion as a zone of intimacy, it follows that the performance must be sensory, inclusive, and engaging towards its audience. The proscenium, gallery wall, or catwalk has been swapped for a mudpit; distinctions between art and fashion, audience and performer, group and individual are tangled in loam and limb.
Text by Nat Marcus
Photos by Isak Berglund Mattsson-Mårn
Big Bag at Moderna Museet, Stockholm
with N. Arauner
and B. Klawitter
August 30, 2016
A piece dug from quarries, shale pits, junk shops. The soil shook off, a rusted pant, a plain geode, a planar dress replanted like a bulb. Mining the secondhands, sieving Humana. We approach these garments as objects necessarily found, used, carrying histories. Ripe as natural materia, such pieces are already in a state of telling decomposition.
In the styling and reconstruction of the clothing, precision matters less to us than the grammar of erosion. Sun beaten into a wrinkled face, bleached. The torn-out security tag taking with it a pebble of cloth. We take “worse-for-the-wear” as a method, decay providing a type of control different than that of sewing, surging.
Rather than a brand or unified entity, we are a group of three artists who find joy in creating together. We play. A logo, it’s gloss or mask, wouldn’t represent us appropriately. Neither would a portrait of any of us as individuals. Treading the threshold between self and other, the source of these garments demands that they be performed. As we take fashion as a zone of intimacy, it follows that the performance must be sensory, inclusive, and engaging towards its audience. The proscenium, gallery wall, or catwalk has been swapped for a mudpit; distinctions between art and fashion, audience and performer, group and individual are tangled in loam and limb.
Text by Nat Marcus
Photos by Isak Berglund Mattsson-Mårn