“It’s like it was in early childhood, against the curse of boredom, cleanliness and the pettiness of the ordinary. A love for worn-out things. Invading storerooms. Our idols were residues, old clothes gathered here and celebrated still. The bottoms of drawers made us happy. A counter-disaster after the theatre show when everything is taken apart. Something about anger. Happiness is petty-minded, arising from embellishments, costume sets, pompoms and pretty handicrafts. The paraphernalia of creature comforts that have been used, worn out, enfeebled. We play around with this huge joke. In this storeroom, we hold a fashion show: a few clothes and overalls worn by a tribe crossing the room. Poodles with clipped legs or mangy mutts. Fragments of a dog’s life.”
Macha Makeieff.
