Morgue // Chelsea College of Arts
A place where dead
people used to lay.
Chessboard, MDF, made in 2018
Diagonal stroke, killing on the way, a man fell as he approached form the left. Step by step, movement by movement the grounds would get more and more empty as the pieces one by one fell down. Both sides suffered, losing pawns in the hope to kill the others. As the end approached the ground would be a stage for just some survivors. Only the ones that fitted within the system of calculating steps and avoiding were left. But as a pawn alone you were hopeless, as a team you were strong or weak, depending on the calculations and math of the one in control. The end was approaching, and finally she was stuck within her movements.
The queen stumbled and fell over as she set her pride and grace away and surrendered, since there was nothing else she could do. As she fell she took a last look at the ones who served her, the ones who were risking their lives in order to get a hold of the other kingdom, the other ground and defeat the other force of power, a case she herself was about to give her life for. But as she felled down she started wondering if this quest of killing, the movements made one by one to destroy the others were ought to be seen as a goal in life. What if the destruction and the possible victory were not the goal to reach for, but the dance, the movement of pawns on the way, were the ultimate goal. What if we could see this movement, this dancing as something joyful, something to share with the others and to celebrate, instead of a tool to reach ultimate victory. Instead of making one of the two surrender or die and the other the winner, could we not both be winners in the game and dance over the grounds of the war. Make it a game of seduction, following and showing the lead, instead of a game of defeat.
The queen kept falling, since her place on the board was taken by another. And her thoughts became one with the ground before she could speak them out in order to provoke a change.
By the time she would rise again for another round, and other repetition of the dance that was not yet seen as a dance but as a tool to destroy her thoughts would have drifted away, just like the results of the games before had, and she would start over again. But at the moment that it would be her time to surrender and fall down again, memories of her thoughts before and the games before started to shift through her mind, as she was wondering the same as always. If only the dance I just performed was created for the sake of dancing, and not for the sake of defeating.
But she on here own was hopeless in the game. As a team you were strong or weak depending on the calculations and math of the one in control. The end was approaching, and finally she got stuck within her own movements.