A robot’s hand in a supermarket
16.11.2017 – 26.11.2017


‘You haven’t had that dream in which you go on holiday to Kepler since you were a kid. Doesn’t matter, you wouldn’t have the time or the money to go anywhere. You’re too busy hating on thy neighbor anyway. You lower your eyes in shame at times when buying supplements at the shop when you see that robot’s hand with a golden ring on its finger. Does it have an on/off switch, you desperately wonder?’ So, are we going to admit that those starry-eyed dreams from the Space Race were misled from the beginning, because they failed to take into consideration humanity’s intrinsic shittiness? I mean, we had, and still have, far right extremists for fuck’s sake, on the streets, in our friends’ lists. Are we just going to dance our worries away or go to the opera like the little pretentious art pricks we claim to be? For the past recent months I’ve been thinking incessantly about a couple of cult classics: Blade Runner and Ghost in The Shell, both films which I’ve only watched for the first time this year on purpose. Call it female intuition, but with some movies I feel when the time is right to finally experience them. We tend to focus so much on futurisms; accelerationism and devouring ourselves that we fail to see how blind we are. How can you possibly move forward and build when you can’t seem to notice the ruins around you? Notions of feminism, human rights, the anthropocene and the likes are thrown around in a feed, glanced at for 5 seconds and processed on the spot; no introspection, no soul-searching; maybe that’s why religion is both on the rise and crumbling at the same time: ain’t nobody got time for dat.
Text by Andreea Anghel

Courtesy of the artist and NEW NOW