💧 💃🏾  👓

ZM 25/6/17

I have been missing/radio silence for a few weeks now (nearly a month) and I am sorry friends. Gab has been a good collaborator. She covered for me while I was upstream; swallowing a sadness that never really landed. I am halfway happy now again. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to write through heartbreak n i don’t have to now. So here I am here I am; hope y’all missed me. I only mention this because I’ve been feeling The White Pube as a type of vlog. Like that format; here’s what i am filling my life with at the moment, and here it is pressing onto my relationship with art. I always say; when we are 70 looking back at this website, i hope it’ll be the same feeling i get when I think of my old piczo: ‘fuck, i was so young’. just like looking back at ur past self like she’s so different to me and alien but that was my body /// there’s a kinda of horror to that but i’ll let it slide. 


So I went to the Fahrelnissa Zeid show @ Tate Modern. This show was a proper PROPER retrospective. Her life stretched out over a couple of rooms. The art was like 50% of the show; the other half was my kinda romantic friend-infatuation with this worldie woman /// international woman of mystery. There’s something so romantic bout her life: daughter of at Ottoman family // wife of a diplomat // rich European salon life // painting for the love of it, my god that must have driven her // why else would she? // I wish that was my life: wearing expensive clothes, social and hard capital, bouncing around the world like a stateless bird. 


I’ll be honest, some of the work i wasn’t keen on. Some of it i could give or take. Others i zoomed in close; sweaty hands holding my phone wanting to remember this exact painting. That bumpiness and inconsistency kinda was the show. Every room felt like a different theme like ur in Fabric or like Egg or whatever. RnB room vibes n then top 40 EDM remixes the next. Some of the paintings are like tiptoeing into abstraction; some trust-fall into it completely. Some are weird alien figures cartoonish. It’s a jarring experience tbh so eclectic, i still am not quite sure if i was taken by it or not. Having said that,,,, it definitely left some kind of taste with me; sitting in my mouth like gum. There were a cluster of paintings that were just colour unbound. Like colour if colour was liquid seeping and spilling onto the floor;;; all swirling into one but sharply sharply crystallised. It made me feel something and for that i must stand up a bit straighter. Another (pic of both on right >>>) felt like a visual reference to that painting in blue of the boy holding a snake (the super orientalist one) (((googled it: it’s Gerome - the Snake charmer))) but the fact this was being retaken and mashed and by a Middle-Eastern/central asian Woman kinda make me smirk. I lingered and snickered. I love being that person - laughing to myself in a half-empty gallery space. ~v powerful~ ~ ~ ~


I think that feels like the show. I don’t have much to say about it; but i respect that it happened n I wana shout it out. More more more like this. I respect Zeid’s life as much (maybe more) than I enjoyed her paintings. And tbh i liked that feeling of going to a show and feeling comfortable in the room; that doesn’t happen often, not at the Tate Modern. (Maybe that was just bc it was a hot day and there was air con in the gallery lol). This show felt sticky though. Like when u open a packet of wine gums and all the flavours have melted into each other and it’s one sticky long lump. I think it would’ve been a better documentary. But i’m not mad. I enjoyed seeing that ~~~historicity~~~ embedded in a gallery. I actually like the way that bends. (i don’t go to many retrospectives, maybe i’m mostly infatuated with the format? idk, i can’t tell i can’t separate that so i have to just lay it all here). 


I think mostly I was sad I saw this show on my own. The whole time walking around my left hand dangled in the air next to me; i wish someone was holding it. The pace of this show was so moderato;; not allegretto // not too ambling. This is a Saturday afternoon with ur person. This is a got nowhere else to be, let’s pop our heads in. This is a we’ve got lunch plans nearby. I’m mad they charge for this show; it’d be so good if it was also free. Borrow ur mate’s aunt’s membership card; don’t pay (i didn’t) and when ur done go to the member’s cafe on the 5th floor and look over the river with ur person. I hope u buy a Coke bc they come in a glass bottle. I drank mine with a straw like I was in a Lana del Rey song. I sat out on a balcony and i felt the breeze while i typed this. It was a day with myself, but a small part of me wishes I had more than just the art for company. It wasn’t quite enough. It felt like going through a scrapbook or a box of old photos (i imagine most retrospectives normally do). The thing with that is, it’s never as funny or enjoyable when ur on ur own. 


Fahrelnissa Zeid's retrospective is on @ Tate Modern until 8th October.


above ^^^^ painting by Zeid

below vvvv nonsense by Gerome

b͓̽e͓̽s͓̽t͓̽ ͓̽v͓̽i͓̽e͓̽w͓̽e͓̽d͓̽ ͓̽i͓̽n͓̽ ͓̽l͓̽a͓̽n͓̽d͓̽s͓̽c͓̽a͓̽p͓̽e͓̽
͓̽o͓̽r͓̽ ͓̽o͓̽n͓̽ ͓̽a͓̽ ͓̽d͓̽e͓̽s͓̽k͓̽t͓̽o͓̽p͓̽

{ 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔬𝔫𝔩𝔶 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔬𝔫 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔚𝔥𝔦𝔱𝔢 𝔓𝔲𝔟𝔢 𝔠𝔞𝔫 𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔢𝔵𝔦𝔰𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔟𝔢𝔠𝔞𝔲𝔰𝔢 𝔰𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔰 𝔠𝔥𝔬𝔬𝔰𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔲𝔭𝔭𝔬𝔯𝔱 𝔲𝔰 𝔢𝔞𝔠𝔥 𝔪𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔥 𝔳𝔦𝔞 𝔓𝔞𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔬𝔫. 𝔚𝔢 𝔰𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔰 𝔡𝔬 𝔱𝔞𝔩𝔨𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔧𝔬𝔟𝔰 𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔓𝔞𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔬𝔫 𝔦𝔰 𝔥𝔬𝔴 𝔴𝔢 𝔤𝔢𝔱 𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔡 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔲𝔞𝔩 𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 - 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔯𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔢𝔴𝔰 𝔫 𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔰𝔬 𝔬𝔫. 𝔄𝔫𝔡 𝔦𝔱'𝔰 𝔰𝔬 𝔦𝔪𝔭𝔬𝔯𝔱𝔞𝔫𝔱 𝔱𝔬 𝔲𝔰 2 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔴𝔢 𝔠𝔞𝔫 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔶 𝔦𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔭𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔠𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔠𝔰 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔱𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔱𝔬 𝔟𝔦𝔤 𝔣𝔲𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔰 𝔬𝔯 𝔦𝔫𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔱𝔲𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰, 𝔭𝔲𝔟𝔩𝔦𝔠 𝔬𝔯 𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔳𝔞𝔱𝔢. 𝔗𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔨 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔟𝔢𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔬𝔩𝔡 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔶 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔯𝔬𝔫𝔰 - 𝔴𝔢'𝔩𝔩 𝔡𝔬 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔟𝔢𝔰𝔱 𝔱𝔬 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔡𝔲𝔠𝔢 𝔮𝔲𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔶 𝔬𝔲𝔱𝔭𝔲𝔱; 𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔲𝔣𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔣𝔲𝔩 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔰𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔢𝔯𝔢. }

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