Each week people are walking together from a distance. Walk no. 2 of 52 took place last Tuesday. It was ‘A walk from one smell to another’. People send images and words that are collaged to fuse our walks together.
Assembling collective remnants from simultaneous walks proves to be a risky strategy. I am cutting into people’s memories, making choices, fragmenting the fragments in order that the walks can weave together. Images and words interact, some become lost, or partially concealed, visible only in their contribution to the overall texture or rhythm, while others push to the surface. I combine chance with decision-making, dropping paper shapes onto paper and seeing where they land. Struck by a sense of responsibility I rearrange again and again. What is the relationship between care and composition? This is just one of many iterations towards the final choice, none of them is fixed in place other than in the photographs and all of them conceal and reveal each other’s experience.
How to manage this responsibility when inviting participation? Balancing action and inaction is also one of the puzzles for A Glass Envelope. It is a fragile space where we carefully weave ourselves together; the screens forming spaces between warp and weft. Something will inevitably be obscured.