YOU CAN CALL ME B.C.- AS BLACK CREATION BEFORE CHRIST - A brutal piece about the genesis of creation.
A triangular table made of black marble and melted recycled plastic with waste mirror shards. The table has a steel inner framework. Height 74 cm x width 230 cm x depth 120 cm.
YOU CAN CALL ME B.C.- AS BLACK CREATION BEFORE CHRIST refers to the unilluminated source of all being, including the unrefined primitive nature of mankind, the inner darkness, as the Founding Father of (artistic) creation and transformation.
The need for dirt, darkness, and destruction to revive, grow and create. There is no beautiful surface without a terrible depth, Friedrich Nietzsche.
The table emits a fierce energy that cuts miraculously primitive-sophisticated through its surrounding space, like a threatening repelling yet appealing knife, harmless but with a perceptible menacing presence.
The irregular triangular piercing top as well as the mirror shards and the pointy drips of the melted plastic in the base, intentionally raise associations of threatening sharpness in addition to brutal burned wood and solidified lava.
It makes YOU CAN CALL ME B.C.- AS BLACK CREATION BEFORE CHRIST almost an uncivilised savage piece.
Still, this is only one dimension. YOU CAN CALL ME B.C.- AS BLACK CREATION BEFORE CHRIST unites multiple contrasts. Besides sharpness and primitiveness there is luxury and sophistication through the marble - perfection and solidness versus ugliness, sloppiness, worthlessness, and rawness.
Thousands-year-old-Before-Christ-stone versus the transiency of modern waste, the melted recycled plastic - put into one piece.
Notice the three shards of mirror glass incorporated in the base creating optical illuminating crevices and cavities in the blackness as beginning signs and openings to transformation. There is a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in.
The question is, can one see the beauty of the imperfection and the necessity of dirt, darkness, and chaos to come to creation, beauty, and lightness? Even when there is unbearable toughness and nothing sweet about it - for burned soil manured will be the most fertile.
Through the dirt, we dig to heaven.
