Orbweavers
Hedwig Brouckaert, Max Razdow, Emerald Rose Whipple
Curated by Kari Adelaide
January 18th – March 8th, 2019

There once was a crystal spider, and its web could carry its crystal body, but it shook. This web has been moved past all thinking, in the grossest absurdity, towards a search for who-knows-what. The web — woven strands — is a sanctuary of a hidden space. It conjures scrutiny and awe, mingling at the feet of Arachne, but as the orbweaver’s venom takes hold, a calm and cautious musing arrives. Curiosity is pitted against an unsatisfied desire for transmutation, asking of the Norns; the setting cannot be experienced unless the body is set betwixt spinnerets. Come closer. Inside the web, the space is well lit, even though there is disorientation of distance. The voice is no longer distant. Enchantment leads to an image of a creature. This creature wears a different cloak again and again and it may dissipate altogether. Time is not the creature as we may think of it. The mystical state of knowledge involves feeling and perception but it is only the spider itself that is unbound, escaping the register of language. This is all an individualized experience, beyond articulate desires. As a type of knowledge, it deals with its own intricacies. The crystal spider has its own idea of life and death and its own hours of pleasure. In the web there are no crowded streets. Time is not the creature as we may think of it. The web shook.

—Kari Adelaide, 2018