In this experiment, the writer intra-acted with the house to find a connection to the works that came to the house, that became with the house. She did not visit the artists’ studios as writers often do, she did not follow the emergence of the work preceding the exhibition as she had done before (Kontturi 2014), but met art only with the house, where it was that these ostensibly separate, individual pieces became an exhibition.
To visit that process, to open it to others, to make its happening felt, a change of tense is needed. In the following, what happened is happening now:
With Maria Miranda and Norie Neumark, she travels to Avoca with a trunkload of huge black plastic bags filled with shredded paper, all while talking about the vicissitudes of neoliberal university, of depression and of aging, sick parents.
With the house, she polishes the leaves of the plastic palms, wipes them shiny with olive oil, and drags them to the conservatory, where the shredded paper is spread so that it fills a windowed conservatory to the waist.
There she plants the palms.
She sees and documents the artists throwing shredded paper with the joyful pleasure of letting go.
She wit(h)nesses, as Bracha Ettinger(2006) says, the shreds finding their way everywhere, spreading beyond the conservatory, to the dining room and the lounge, and leaking into the yard.
In the process, she finds unexpected treasures amongst the millions of pieces of shredded lectures – the remains of a long teaching career now in the past – and other, isolated meanings emerged out of the pile: the "doctors without"…
A year of shredding:
Shredded forty years lectures.
Shredded selves made redundant:
The shredded aesthetics of neoliberalism.
A year of shredding
Making quiet noise, real noise, vaudeville like.
Comically critiquing Capitalism:
to get under its skin.