Eric Length & Ida Lennartsson
Gallerie der HFBK, Hamburg, 2013

Every metaphor points to the crossroads where the artist (or the lover) finds herself magnetized on all sides, toward Flowers and toward Evil, torn between the language of flowers and that of mute things. For every metaphor precisely is a fusion of the figurative with the figure; it is at the same time elevation of meaning, through mingling significations, toward the infinity of connotation and the void of non-meaning. You tell yourself stories in order to live. You live entirely by the imposition of a narrative line upon disparate images, by the “ideas” with which you have learned to freeze the shifting phantasmagoria which is your actual experience. This also means that there is a way beyond preconceptions. It is the unknown quantity from which and where you want to go. As a thing, an object, it accedes to its non-logical self. It is something, it is nothing. IF INDESTRUCTIBLE DESIRE ESCAPES FROM TIME, TO WHAT REGISTER DOES IT BELONG IN THE ORDER OF THINGS? FOR WHAT IS A THING, IF NOT THAT WHICH ENDURES, IN AN IDENTICAL STATE, FOR A CERTAIN TIME? You love that thing, but even more so you hate it, because you love it, and in order not to lose it, you imbed it in your self.