Two weeks left of the MA, I’m writing the last draft of my dissertation at the moment and procrastinating heavily. This weekend I got to Offprint at Tate Modern and Photo London at Somerset House.</p>
The public has grown accustomed to a split view of Jackson Pollock, the visionary splatter genius doing battle with the rage-prone alcoholic, life in disarray. Now let’s throw another Pollock into the mix—a baking obsessive with a pantry crammed full of French cookware, recipe binders brimming with blueberry blintz and clam pie instructions.
The front entrance of smells like ‘freshly boxed products’: rubber, synthetic materials, freshly applied adhesives and newly pressed cardboard (‘Untitled’, by Magali Reus). We lie on a bed in one of the rooms at the top of the house, our faces in sheets that smell like they’ve been slept in. (Adam Christensen’s ‘Smell of Intuition’ – the result of mixing the scents of brown things together – has infused into the pocket of his Raf Simons cord jacket, which hangs in the wardrobe). The space makes us want to misbehave – it’s the domestic environment and the fact we’re unsupervised.
DNA analysis of the yeasts determined that, at the time the two beers were produced, they would have had notes of sweet apple, rose, butterscotch, and clove. They would have tasted sweet, too, as they had been fortified with sugar, similar to a Lambic, their closest modern-day analogue.