Will there ever be a Space 1026er that lets me down? Apparently not. Mark Price's show, The New Real Fantasy Now at Glowlab is further proof of that. There's a lot of "The center cannot hold" in the air right now, the implication that once gravity disappears things fall apart. True enough, maybe. But what if gravity didn't disappear as much as it just moved around, casting it's pull from distant domains both light and dark. Lack of gravity we're ready for. We dream that shit on a regular basis. Price's drawings and wall paintings show chaos and destruction choosing the latter option. Things are getting ripped apart from the outside in.
Because of the suspension the work first reminded me of Adam Cvijanovic's great 2005 show, Love Poem, Ten Minutes After The End of Gravity, but upon closer inspection it's obvious that things weren't just moving up and out. The direction of the pull is unpredictable and wild. When Terry Gilliam was looking for a post-industrial wasteland where he could film Twelve Monkeys somebody tipped him to Philadelphia. Anybody who's taken Amtrak down from New York knows that disintegrating stretch before the North Philadelphia stop. Some of Price's structures feel like they're ripped from that section of town, from that sliver of our past. It reflects perfectly our broken down times as we begin to realize we've been living on ghost time. Suddenly it's like, "Oh, shit. My blood has turned to rust." Price captures that moment just after we utter those words. Whether or not we're able to hold on to ourselves and all these flying parts remains to be seen.
First two photos above via Glowlab's flickr site
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