Pipe-Oddity Fetishism

Facing the deadline of Scape, 2008, and the task of documenting it in the most expository and interesting way possible, I started to think about temporality, the idea of a deadline and social habits. One of the contributors to this document once remarked on how endearingly organised humans are, setting apart "the weekend", and most likely seeking out other social beings in the evenings alloted to this period. It seems in a similar way, this Biennial provides the temporal umbrella, or arbitrary point of gravitation in time which allows something to appear, to be shared and experienced. Pierre Huyghe made an interesting statement at a conference given at the Biennale of Sydney this year, on his preference of the term "apparition" to "exhibition", which is particularly apt in describing his hijacking of the Sydney Opera House Concert Hall with A Forest of Lines; tropical pot plants, smoke machine smoke and Sci-Fi lighting, for a 24 hour period only. A little closer to home, I was very taken with the appearance of pipes --the approx. thickness of a sausage dog's torso--at University. At present, this shiny and/ or rusty intestinal infrastructure protrudes from unsuspecting fields, slinks along edificial peripheries and other designated space, and provides for points of intersection with channels of circulation. Where these occur accommodations have been made. For people, there are step-up-and-overs and ramps, and for automobiles concrete moulded coverings. The material discrepancy between the plywood and the concrete respectively, leads to a strange sense of spaciotemporal ambiguity; said concrete, albeit mesh with still-fresh paint and wet look tar is, as concrete does seem more permanent than connotations lent by the phrase "under construction". The wooden built-frames, on the other hand seem more accurately to fit the ticket of expectations of the pipes' return to subterraneity.