We deform the world, adapt it to our bodies, sculpt it. Our world is its largest open-pit mine, dug out and backfilled with human scaled objects. The paver is the pillar to our locomotion, the lawn to our jurisdiction. It's hard to appreciate how manicured the world is, and how inhuman when it isn't. Walk off trail and encounter "terrain."
"a pathos in the materials we find to mediate our touch to the world. The objects here, designed for ourselves, infer something about the bodies which they govern. A way for an object to "speak" without resorting to symbolism or surrealism, but exist as a circumstantial evidence of a reality, the tragedies of a world we must continually attenuate..."
"Reading about all the elegant facilities of 53W53 feels like brambles."
Full: Park McArthur at Chisenhale, Park McArthur at SFMOMA, Park McArthur at MoMA
