Still, Life


May 6 – August 13, 2017

Lyeberry HQ | 250 Greenpoint Avenue, 4th Fl. Brooklyn, NY 11222

Land lies in water it is shadowed green[1].

The land is our mother, our stability, our cushion, our death and ourselves. The land becomes our crutch – our stable bread – we gorge on the solid fruits of the land and with grace and steadfastness the land keeps giving even though on occasion it receives nothing but harm. The land sings along, alone, nudging the sky into a third dimension, one elusive and flat. Sometimes land is the only thing left that feels real. Soil, against your skin, is soft and teeming with life. Within it there is a reality so real even human doubt and suffering can not cause it to panic or to act out. The land reassures us with a fury and dedication unparalleled, that it is there, that the land is real. 

In the case of j.frede’s series titled ‘fiction landscapes’, slivers of memories via snapshots are choreographed into new narratives, one that gives these old snapshots a second chance even if its original story has faded from memory itself. Pictures like these go many places to die. You might find them in trash cans, recycling plants, arranged as decorative elements that add character in hideous plastic frames, backdrops for aquariums, bookmarks, maybe even some of them become refrigerator magnets. These particular photos were saved from their second-life-purgatory to dance together and create a time-crystal vision for a multipolar future, one constructed of many peoples’ many pasts’ to share through solidarity of experience our collective desires in the present. Together these snapshots visualize a collapse of space-time and give a glimpse into one of the most real parts of ourselves – that our memories are not our own.

[1] Elizabeth Bishop, The Map