As the description of violence is attached to phenomena and it’s definition is hard to state as an absolute, I wonder if it’s possible to use the field of craft as a research arena and question: In what ways can I question and determine violent dynamics through craft practices?
It’s important to state that I am not talking about a specific type of violence (sub cultural, emotional, structural, verbal, physical, etc) since I believe they are all interconnected and they are related to a personal experience of frustration, fear, disgust, worry and anger. By not defining it, I will be giving freedom to the observers to relate and get in contact with the specific type of violence they might need to reflect upon.
We tend to think that violence is not there and just look the other way. I want us to focus back on violence, to ask ourselves how each of us take part in a violent dynamic.
It is an invitation to ask ourselves about our own role in violent dynamics through questions like: Am I involved? Are we able as a society to treat violence with empathy? Is violence natural to us?
My work is set within the craft field but I have formulated my own understanding of it as a creative field of processes with technical applied work in which through elements of the finish work elements the observer has a hint of the processes, traditions, concepts or culture behind it. I challenged the techniques and tools used in craft practices to investigate how far they can stretch. I explore this subject by using a nontraditional craft process and investigate the limits of creation in contemporary craft.
The purpose of Bond snatch, violence scatter is to experiment the relation of the body, the material and the space; and how one may take the place of the other, and affect each other. Body: Being the maker’s/performer body and the partakers. Material: Standing mainly for clay. Space: not only the physical space but the space created after the use of sound by Christophe Aslanian, an electro acoustic artist. video
The growing frustration pushing my limits of respect. Respect that is now long gone once I decided to bare it. Emptiness growing in my heart. All that love and recognition transformed to a overwhelming pressurized air in my chest, the heat and the strength on my hands, the coldness in my stomach, the buzz in my ears from my heated head and tears about to scatter. Te moment in which someone that I recognize as my own has punched and moved my essence all over; and, so there is no doubt about it, has reached in and taken what was ours: that unifying element that can no longer coexist with my new shape, the one left after the encounter.
Love your work!