Alfred 7 eng / 1

Catalogue for a Nomedian art exhibition

by Vrilya Hrönir

Foreword : the final creative output for nationless multidisciplinary artist Vrilya Hrönir, by far the most obscure in her life, covers a short span, extending from the moment she finished her solo crossing of the Pacific ocean aboard her catamaran Jangr II to her spectacular death almost two years later. With the objects « made » by Vrilya Hrönir being impossible to slot into categories, our only option was to present them in an arbitrary order. But then, as the artist herself stated in her famous interview by computer Cybelios 2-14 (published in Life extended version 's 5 November 20-- issue) : « Every thing is arbitrary, even luck ; only chaos is able to breed what is to come. Until a last wave that will always reach higher than the previous ones. With the only difference that, afterwards, the sea begins to breathe, again. » As a consequence we opted for mere chronology, the least disputable of filing systems, since Vrilya Hrönir's diary allows us to determine precisely when each alleged « Nomedian » object was made, or rather « discovered in slow-motion », as the artist pledged. Virtual descriptions are taken from her diary, while further comments are from Copenhagen Dawn of Times Museum 's curators. We shall remind members of the audience that the exhibition is to be visited at their own risk. As a deterrent, a board in the entrance lobby features the number of visitors who have succumbed to fainting, heart strokes, suicide or murder attempts, as well as those who have thereafter been admitted to psychiatric establishments, whether willingly or against their will - as far as we know.

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#1. The Odradeck bits of woods from miscellaneous essences - dimensions : 112 cm x 88 cm x 72 cm - 56 kg. « One imagines a staircase going down from a dead room to the suspended deck of a sinking ship making for several directions at once. Steps are raining down from the mast, love-curdled, impeached at once from scattering all upon the open ground. Yet a peg struts boldly out, making faces whenever one tries to get hold of it. Though all one can do is to shuffle them-all in order to recombine the whole, so as to see picture cards struggling against each other and eventually unravel their origins. » In spite of its weight and factual inability to obey laws of buyoancy, the Odradeck is perfectly seaworthy, to the extent of being unsinkable. However, its wicked shapes - evoking, as critic Clarkston 666 put it : « two different staircases having sexual intercourse as they watch the 3D version of a Cronenberg's movie » prevent any possibility to carry something bigger than a sewing pin.

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#2. The Emergency-Forgiving Rifle wood and metal - 112 cm x 12 cm x 8,5 cm - 1120 gr. « One imagines a bolt of ripe concrete soaring from a bronze cornice to reach a skull of smoke, then trying to inoculate it with the frenzy of a readyto-stop beating heart ; before resuming elsewhere, in another breast on the other side of the world and of time, hence within oblivion. The urge to die struck by lightning must be satisfied at once. It's cheating if one utters a last word. Let the umpires whistle ; that is their duty. » The Emergency-Forgiving Rifle's breech is double- sided ; whenever the trigger is pulled, the bullet engaged in the barrel is struck mid- length and from beneath, thus releasing two explosive charges, one to the front and another to the back of the stock. Nobody has ever tested the Rifle in real conditions. However, the 6 March 20--, art school student Markus Spoontjer broke through the safety cordon, took hold of the Emergency-Forgiving Rifle, inserted a home- made bullet and tried to kill his fiancee as well as himself in the process. Unable to properly handle the mechanism, he did not have enough time to implement his threat and security guards seized him. He was later charged for a combined murder and suicide attempt.

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#3. The Weather vain-Sextant brass - 36 cm x 24 cm - 600 gr. « One imagines a point steady over oneself, stilled by urban nomads physically disabled imagination. Using any finger one fancies, one slides the Uncertainty cursor along the asymptotic wedge, while preferably singing a rhyme. Then one undresses the Impropriety hive with such an acutely worked out slowness that its climax coincides with midnight on the dot. The resulting point is the location where one should be instead of where one is. If both happen to coincide, one turns briefly hazy then vanishes. » No-one ever managed to operate the Weather vain-Sextant, except maybe curator Smilla Asperger- Tothsen while she was preparing the present exhibition. Any information regarding her whereabouts would be appreciated.

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#4. The Daily Perpetual multimedia software - 50 Giga- octets « One imagines the whole world playing at the game of Sardine in a big empty mansion full of almost, almost, almost infinite echoes. Players keep opening doors, floortraps and museums ; they have glimpses of people who do not know the rules of the game and pass them on without even wanting to. Soon, every room is full and overflowing with guests who eventually recognize each other while simultaneously forgetting themselves. Hosts are in two minds about evacuating every body because they have been told that there was nothing, out there. Nothing but choices that bring us back to the empty mansion full of people(s). » Every 24 hours @ 5 o'clock in the morning, the Daily Perpetual software breeds the front page of a randomly selected newspaper (sometimes made up but often an existant one) drawing on events, people and places from yesterday's news. This paper is automatically dated for the day to come. Its matching rate with reality ranges from 30 to 75%. Since its inception date and broadcast on the ImproNet, every gambling and lottery company in the world has been driven to bankruptcy, all but one which is still being prosecuted for fraud. Every tax enquirer who tried to trace the Daily Perpetual hosting server has drawn a blank.

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#5. The Apoptheosis a sealed plexiglas sphere containing another sphere made of undetermined materials - Ø 112 cm - 1120 kg. « One imagines that life loves to go forth eyes wide open on the pressed surface of a unified unique universe. But then one sees a gaze raised to the selfsky, and one realises how procurer Plato was wise. An ocean is almost nothing if it has not been dug out with our very own hands at first then through the programmed death of cells. A mere scale will never show the size of the sky. » The Apoptheosis is a globe held in a plexiglas sphere that floats in zero gravity thanks to an undetermined process. The inner sphere revolves every 25 hours 15 minutes and 30 seconds. Its ecliptic declination is 30° sharp. The plexiglas sphere presents the optical characteristics of an exponentially magnifying lens : the closer the viewer stands, the closer the surface looks to him. (This process is akin to GoogleEarth™software, except that it seems to be strictly optical). The very few people who took a chance at it have been severely shocked, if not marked for life. The surface of the world that one surveys is covered with microscopic living creatures ; clusters of clouds are not holographic projections (one can discern their shadows evolving according to the relief) and displayed continents are moving at a speed of 1 μ a week. A couple of viewers have speculated that this could very well be the Earth as it was 180 millions years ago. One of them has pointed out an unaccountable piece of continent, westward of what is to become South America. For safety as well as sanity reasons, members of the audience are required to not get closer than 1,12 meter to the Apoptheosis, such a distance still allows them to see details of about 1 kilometer size.

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# 6. The Umbilical Source glass and water ? - 36 cm high, Ø 9 cm - 480 gr. « One imagines water as the source of life. Watered since the dawn of time, omen and w-men are holding on to their libs and learning how to fly amidst noises of torn skins and under a blood-rain full of itself. It is something to see them soar. Something that speaks volumes about the global warming of our clanet pore. One may eat it when cooked. Vegans shall feast. » The artist blew herself, thanks to an undetermined process, this Leyden bottle which, although it has only one surface, is capable of holding a quantity of liquid, which presents all apparent aspects of water. In spite of the absence of a lid, no handling of any kind will make the liquid pour out of the bottle.

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#7. The Very Long Poem two Ø 12 cm reels linked to a super- 8 viewer - 1120 gr. « One imagines images streaming neatly in truncated phrases. Nothing is being told ; everything is carried on. As though planets were thrown at one's face on a dry stormy night, whatever is to be seen panders to the lightning bolts. In real scald, one sees Cardinal Salt gathering all his senses. » The two reels are interdependent and will wind in the same direction, as they are driven by a small engine fed by a 9V battery. Opposite the viewer, the film has been half- twisted before insertion, technically turning it into a Möbius tape. Given the diminutive size of the reels, the whole film is at most 180 meters long, standard size for super- 8 movies. Since its achievement by the artist on 4 February 20--, the Very Long Poem has never twice displayed the same sequence of words. Sentences shown tend to evolve at a slow pace ; it takes about one minute for any single term to change. Over a day, the Poem changes its language. Over a week, it will adopt a new writing system or alphabet. Every two weeks, when the battery must be changed, the winding sense reverses itself ; the Poem then takes to rightto-left writings, and conversely the following time. Since its incept date, the Very Long Poem has not yet run out of languages presently written on Earth. Numerous hypothesis have been stated regarding what will happen when they are all exhausted : will it speak in dead tongues ? Or in yet- to-be- born tongues ?

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#9. Noemie Lafleur's Veil undetermined polymer garment - one size (adult) - 112 gr. « One imagines blushing as an unveiling reaction, speaking of oneself to others, revealing what one is thinking and feeling. But only the skin will make one believe in telepathy. Brains, for one, are but the place where questions stand, they're not a bulwark for answers. One brain could suffice to understand all the riddles in the universe (but then, whose ? Not mine, not mine , Marilyn cries). It has not yet been bred. For we do not want to understand that, so convinced have we been that were it to happen, the universe would stop breathing. We actually know nothing about it. It might as well stop for an instant before starting up again. (Oh yes, but then : we do not want it to start). Whatever lies in between belongs to us, body and soul. » Noemie Lafleur's Veil is a complete pair of overalls (cowl included) with an out- of- reach spinal zip. Once sealed, there is no hole for the mouth or for the eyes, though the subject can breathe through the micro- porous fabric. The overalls take a little time to operate, and to adjust to the bearer's emotional condition. Progressively, viewers see whatever the subject is feeling and thinking. Thanks to a spontaneous code - made of colours, words and patterns, even barely audible sounds - Noemie Lafleur's Veil acts as a screen, revealing the inner self of the wearer. The experiment has been run only once : every viewer fell in love with the subject after barely ten minutes of exposure. When the experiment was suddenly discontinued by the person in charge, there was a barbaric free- for- all ; three people killed each other while two committed suicide on the spot. The subject was raped several times before the police were brought in.

Alfred 7 eng / 10

#9. The Allan Touring Club of One undetermined organic materials - 1,84 m - 78 kg. « One imagines an existence seen from every angle. One can view it as reckless and yet it moves us. One delightfully scuttles it before it blows up under our very nose. One easily draws the conclusion that every living thing is partly made up of soul, because monks told us so and measured it and extracted it with pinheads. One easily forgets that the kingpin of the body goes deep inside la raison d'être- état, and that existence is still and again tied to our exacerbated loop of senses, repeating in unison : c'est la vie, la vie enfin, à quand la fin. » The Allan Touring Club of One is a man with strongly intermixed features, ideally representing every living ethnic group on Earth. He knows but one sentence : "Thank you but I am not a machine", though he can say it in every known language and always with a smile. He breathes, eats, drinks and expels like any human being. He is able to sleep, wash and dress anywhere, and never suffers from bad weather. Since his inception date on 10 October 20--, he has never been ill. Some medical analyses concluded that he has no internal organs, except for a rudimentary digestive tract. He has no civilian identity and is not wanted in any police station in the world. In the exhibition fold, he answers to the name of Allan, will not remain in any given place and moves according to his "programming", which is, in theory, infinite. A computer historian speculated that such programming is no more complex than that of Little Computer People, a piece of early Commodore-64 software.

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#10. Inner Musak Diffuser metal box - 12 cm x 18 cm x 24 cm - 224 kg. « One imagines the noise of our world betrays life, as though life had something to declare and to hush into crumpled ears. We actually are all akin to people driven mad by loneliness, who believe they are hearing voices addressing them from the shrubs, the walls, the mirrors, the brain folds, the foreign faces. One sorts out whatever is possible in these mauling cacophonies. One sorts out like mad, to the point of breaking one's vocal hords. In the end, when silence hushes down, one has learned nothing a-new. For at this moment, one is real dead. Silence is what eventually happens when one realises that everything was worth grasping. » The Inner Musak Diffuser offers no opening, no visible controls, no components, no way in. Its serious weight is unaccountable. When placed in certain rooms (it has not yet been determined what triggers this - the only way is to experiment), faint sounds on the verge of human hearing are diffused, while it is impossible to say what they are exactly. Even when the Inner Musak Diffuser emissions are recorded through ultra high- tech sensors, the result can not be amplified, a fact that goes against all known acoustic laws. Any person left alone with the Inner Musak Diffuser will turn schizophrenic in about an hour. Two people left with it will endeavour to bare- handedly cut each other's throat after 15 minutes. Three will have sex. Four will go and found a revolutionary party. Five will set up a collective art exhibition. Six will stay dumbfounded and, as soon as they're out, will hire themselves out to the nearest military corps. Seven will share their savings to buy an aeroplane and do professional acrobatic parachuting. Eight will purchase four lorries and go around the world delivering near- expired goods to undeveloped nations. Nine will hold hands and throw themselves in the face of a nuclear plant automatic defense system, and will finish up jailed or torn to pieces by machine guns. The experiment has never been tried with ten people. Eleven people simply cannot stay in the room ; at any given time, one of them at least is out for some reason, which leads to an impossible paradox regarding former statement. Beyond twelve, it is impossible to know whether the Inner Musak Diffuser is working or mute.

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#11. Vrilya Hrönir unplugged flesh and blood - 1,72 m - 58 kg, then 51. « One imagines I am willing to live again and again because I am made up of state-of-the-art cells, of a mouth able to feed them, of hands able to divide the food into appropriate portions and of a heart able to love with all its might. However no-one is eager to know which screams I witness in every mouthful, every portion, every knoll hurtled down. In outerspace void, blood freezes almost instantly and curdles up before swishing off to Sirius or whatever system stands for Elsenwhere. » After an acupuncturist had entirely desensitised her, Vrilya Hrönir inserted a catheter into her heart linking it up to a miniature airlock-drain in the hull of a stratospheric surveillance B-52 flying at an altitude of 32 kilometers. Her death by vacuum- bleeding has been taped. A second camera outside filmed the blood spraying out into the oxygenless sky. The contrast between red, blue and starspeckled black is simply arresting and recalls some installations of Scottish plastician Andy Goldsworthy. Both films are shown as a diptych and last 48 minutes. The artist was 48 years-old. It has been estimated that around five thousand (maybe 4 800) droplets of Vrilya Hrönir unplugged's blood got scattered in the stratosphere and set in slow orbit. It is impossible to know when they will rain down upon the earth.