The Hot Fox presents
For those of you who are in the neighborhood of Antwerp do drop by Hot Fox Gallery tonight. They open a new exhibition titled ‘I sang, and thought I sang very well; but he just looked up into my face with a very quizzical expression’ — A duo exhibition by Federico Acal and Tom Volkaert, opening tonight at 8pm. The exhibition is introduced by a very intriguing text.
We communicate, we navigate. We walk on the streets and see quizzical expressions. We smile back. We are just figures in the networks. Facebook has gone mad. We need to relax. We are voracious and mostly use our phones to talk, but we abbreviate, we like it brief. We live in a sudden rush and spend our days restlessly, from couch to couch. Sundays don’t exist anymore. We try to be dynamic, to adapt.
We are returning objects. We detour and go in roundabouts. We need a fearless action. The world needs fearless actions. Now we photoshop, but the mistakes still show. Touch-ups are for later.
A world is a festival of choices, a catalogue of forms.
A world is in your hands. We play with it. We like it and that’s why we do it.
There are fresh fruits and vegetables on the table. They have facial features and smile at us. We are lucky. We feel very lucky, but we don’t like to talk face to face. We are experiencing it. We look for definitions, Wikipedia is sufficient. These are the rules but we need to unwind and loosen up because it’s handy for us. We keep it simple, we let it go.
We move, but don’t change space. We like textures, patterns and floors. Chairs and tables transform. The clay is only drying. There is no theme. We are off topic. We are looking for motivation. When we find some, we’ll let you know.
There are no posters in the space. The Poster Show is, itself, a poster. Eye-catching and information. We like words, we like colours. A table becomes an exhibition bench. A bench becomes a boomerang. Shelves don’t need to contain things; they stand by their own, don’t support theories. Laser cut figures come along with a video. No need to edit it, we are communicating.
From the other side of the street we keep looking at the glass. Moving letters try to composite an image. Don’t pretend. It’s a vague image. No time to loose, ‘cause it’s coming our way. It pops up.
We meet with friends. We laugh, talk and walk around. There are still objects to locate but they slip through our fingers. Too late for touch-ups.
The Address:
