Blinded
Rebecca Lindsmyr & Emil Sandström
11. – 13. October 2024

‘In 2007 John Kelsey wrote that “Painting in the information age has one task and one task only: to
seduce the cyborg. To pretend that no gap could ever keep them apart.” This belonged in a tangled
discussion on the status of the painterly subject. In the years to come, one text after another was laid
out: on the painter versus its larger network, on the indexical mark of the hand and how it relates to
digital reproduction.
This all goes hand in hand with intellectual dispositions on the deconstructions of the subject. Step by
step we’ve invested decades in picking ourselves apart, and it’s possibly one of the more exciting
things we’ve spent our efforts on. Power and language being torn to pieces. In the muck of a medium
that is painting, the deconstruction of the painterly subject could still be said to be in full bloom, and
when it comes to the network: at the time of writing, at least three key names on the international
painting scene (all women, of course) have attributed their current large scale institutional solo shows
to highlighting their networks; the work of peers in direct relation to their own. Love letters to their
close ones.’ […]

[…] ‘The act of isolating one gesture from its context forces one to define the beginning and end of this
gesture. An act of interpretation, made for misunderstanding. As stated by Lacan, language is meant
to be misunderstood, as we all attach our own meanings to the words we speak. Giving and receiving
with clarity hence becomes an impossible task. Here, I wish to come back to the but in Kelsey’s note
on seduction: “But it must not lose its stupidity either.” With that said, the inherent stupidity of painting
and the subject it reflects – the stupidity of a trembling hand and of allowing oneself to be seduced. In
quoting an other, the meaning most likely falls short. Yet, we quote, and believe we grasped the
meaning. Yet, words rest in our mouths, and we swallow them whole.’

Those familiar with Alta knows an opening night – or any given visit – is a moment shared with the
neighboring event space. Trolleys filled with food swung out the elevator and rolled across the floor,
partygoers in sequin dresses slipping in and out of the gallery. Some nights will hear the bass drum of
a wedding reception leak into the space, others will see the gallery bar overflow into the nearby hall
stacked with folding tables and plastic flower portals.

The art scene in Malmö is one built from artist’s initiatives and self-organizing – and few spaces
simmer with such a soup of affects as does Alta Art Space.

With love, Rebecca and Emil