A permanent performance
An intervention by Sarah & Charles.
In collaboration with and performed by Bryana Fritz.
With temporary sculptures by After Howl.
And documented by Hans Bruch jr.
August 28th 2016
The project was developed during occasional stays at the house of Julie Vandenbroucke and Michel Espeel starting in 2014.
A silver nail is embedded in the surface of the terrace of the house together with a task for the collectors; to activate the piece at least once a year for 20
At the inauguration, Sarah & Charles put in motion the first articulation of the piece in close collaboration with performer Bryana Fritz. The performance developed in the house is based on the experience of the architecture and the way in which the space relates to its inhabitants.
The silver nail functions as a symbolic anchor to the house and instigates the performance. The Brussels based artist collective After Howl will welcome
the public into a momentary pavilion set up in the garden of the house. They will offer temporary sculptures to the public. An important part of the task
accompanying the activation of the silver nail is the meticulously documentation of the happening. On this occasion D.O.P. Hans Bruch Jr will
film the event.
The project was made possible by the ongoing involvement and exchange of ideas between both the collectors and the artists.
Hello, welcome to the house of Julie and Michel
Hello, welcome to the house of Julie and Michel. This is not a house that you may have drawn before, a square with a triangle on top and a rectangle as a door. It’s a house without a corner. There is no clear
entrance, no clear exit. Thus no clear beginning and no clear end.
Please feel free to come and join me on the terrace.
I would like to warn you that you might find it difficult to see and hear at some moments. If this disturbs you at all, don’t hesitate to change your position.
Meander at your will. You can make your way through the room, stay here, or go through to the other side.
But you should know that it is possible that you will go out of sight longer than I will.
This is a house, not a theater so rather than locking you in, I am more likely to lock you out. This is a house, not a theater so rather than locking you in, I am more likely to lock you out.
This is a corner and it is not. I am floor and I am not.
This is a corner and it is not. I am wood and I am not.
This is a corner and it is not. I am transparent and I am not.
The corners don’t determine
the pathways are contorted
and the blueprint is complex.
It’s kind of like a loop of movements.
but in fact it is more like a cat
or a dog.
It is always present, always moving
and its edges are defined despite its fur and fluff.
It is not possible to run into it because you move out of the way, unless the collision or touch is wanted.
At times the house dominates the body.
At times the body dominates the space.
Sometimes they are equal.
So this is a dance that you can live with. It’s a serenity dance, a dog dance, a cat dance, a cornerless dance, a dance that can be lived with, eat with, slept with, a dance that is present on any other day.
Just over there lays point zero; a nail, embedded in the stone of the terrace.
it anchors the movement of the dance.
It gives a certain clarity of where to begin and where to end.where to end and where to begin.
When standing on that point, one can both look inside and outside.Peering at what’s part of the house and what is not.what’s part and what’s not.
Creating a centrifugal force that pulls the body and the house towards it.
Orbiting and dancing around it.
Pulling the body to the structure and pulling the structure in and through the body.
Its not a real beginning, it is s a place of return.
Both beginning and ending
re-beginning and re-ending.
You were already there and you were not.
You were already there and you were not.
The dance is, will be, and has already been inscribed.
And after years it will leave small rivers in the floor and small rivers in the air. They are already there. So all I can do is do it and repeat it and repeat it and then stop
and know that it is still there.
Bryana Fritz and Sarah&Charles
Sint-Eloois-Winkel, April 2015