Top

Lullabies and percussion at Appleton

The two exhibitions now showing at Appleton, in Alvalade, until March 7, draw, seemingly without any coordination, upon the same two concepts: faith as part of human nature and the surveillance technology.

In A Torch Song, Isabel Cordovil takes as her starting point sacralised places such as Fátima and a Greek Orthodox Church during mass, Mecca during pilgrimage, a ceremony to Krishna in India, the empty Western Wall, the Gondwana Namib Park where attempts are afoot to recover protected species, a possile Aurora Borealis site in Finland, Space X’s aerospace launch station, and an alien sighting site in Nevada, to portray human faith in all its forms.

The exhibition area is conceived with virtually no lighting, aimed at the small old televisions on which the different images are shown and from which we hear a song of overlapping lullabies. First of all, the selection criteria for what is considered sacred. If in the Christian instance the representations are visual, with images of Our Lady or Orthodox icons, and Hindu, with a representation of Krishna, the Jewish and Islamic spaces show how belief is made of ceremony. There are also devotions to nature, such as the Aurora Borealis, whose beauty can itself be deified, or the species roaming the Namibian reserve. Lastly, the faith in technology represented by Space X or the scepticism and conspiracy in Nevada.

Hope, the body’s dehumanisation by machines and surveillance, with cameras providing access to all these aspects, are themes highlighted by the room text. I’m struck, nevertheless, by the concurrent nature, confirmed by the superimposition of melodies as an exhibition object, of a universal experience and, above all, faith, surrender, dedication, the devotional rite. The age-old issue of humanity’s urge to believe, in whatever form, comes to mind yet again.

Although religion is frequently used as a pretext for politics, Cordovil’s approach is that of faith itself in its institutional context, in the ceremonial aspect and its different liturgies. As worship is built on the emphasis on words, it is also laden with cultural codes that are visible and meaningful to those who belong to the community. After all, that’s why sacred sites are sacred. Including the fascination with natural, technological or conspiratorial phenomena lends an important broad meaning to the concept of belief.

Accessing the varied formats of these ceremonies live is a new form of simultaneity, brought about by globalisation and technology, witnessing an emotional ritual, even if only for aesthetic reasons. But this public access implies the demise of intimacy with the space.

On the top floor, João Biscainho revisits the concept of surveillance with Mirror Drumming, as well as the possibilities of using cutting-edge technology to protect itself from the non-material elements of the Internet access networks. Photographs of private echo chambers conducting electromagnetic frequency transmission experiments are alternated with graphene paintings, a material that blocks technological interference. These images include a copper jaw plunged into milk and connected to a plate made of the same material, as part of an investigation in which it was possible to tap into the thoughts of individuals through the neuro-vibration frequencies of the lower jaw. The work presents us with a dystopian vision in which it would be essential to add noise to the jaw, to avoid external knowledge of what is ours.

Protection from surveillance and control pervades the entire exhibition, but does not relinquish the relationship between image and sound, using various mirror drums. Biscainho’s construction consists of a loudspeaker inside a drum, covered with a high-quality mirror, in a white and grey exhibition area. This silent image is enhanced by the sound of percussion phrases recorded by artist and composer Marco Franco. This percussion alternated with silence, apparently without any cohesion, is a primal or “shamanic” moment, in João Biscainho’s own words.

The black and white geometric figures, reflected in the mirror drums, embrace a scientific outlook on human material breakthroughs, whilst forming a parallel soundscape: a drum facing each visual moment so that we are surrounded by percussive sound signals.

Our fears and vulnerabilities loom between the omnipresence of faith and technology.

A Torch Song by Isabel Corvodil and Mirror Drumming by João Biscainho are on show at Appleton until March 7, 2024.

Inês Almeida (Lisbon, 1993) has a master's degree in Modern History given by the Faculty of Social Sciences and Humanities, part of Nova' s University of Lisbon. Inês has recently completed a Post-Graduation in Curatory of Art in NOVA/FCSH, where she was part of the collective of curators responsible for the exhibition "On the edge of the landscape comes the world" and has started collaborating with Umbigo magazine.

Signup for our newsletter!


I accept the Privacy Policy

Subscribe Umbigo

4 issues > €34

(free shipping to Portugal)