Kyiv . Ya Gallery Art Center
24.04.2013 – 24.05.2013
Mykyta Kravtsov's new personal project Naked Lunch, according to the author's confession, is a search for reality, “one's own, not imposed by the surrounding”. These are reflections on what reality is and on William S. Burroughs novel “Naked Lunch”. Paintings and collages are trying to confuse the viewer, turning the pursuit of reality into psychedelic absurdity. And the only key that the author provides is the symbol of a fish: “In a Greenland I observed the local people. I noticed that they didn't live, but existed on the coast, until they saw a shoal of fish entering the bay. Then they began to live. In the South – the same: local are waiting to fish all the time. The North and the South are united by one thing. Fish that gives people life.”
“That's his title, Kerouac. The title means exactly what the words say:
naked lunch, a frozen moment when everyone sees what is on the end of every fork.”
William S. Burroughs
I am writing this text in absolute darkness and complete silence. Only the beating of my heart and vein in my arm pulsing of tension.
What is reality? I cannot even imagine it.
Attempts to grasp the reality lead you through an endless labyrinth, unraveling like a ribbon under your feel with every step brining you closer to the truth, tightening the noose around your neck. Step by step, until your feel come off the ground and legs starting to wiggle as the Foucault pendulum in the Paris Pantheon making a whimsical drawing on the sand.
Novel “Naked Lunch” is not about drugs or dependencies. This novel describes small adventures outside the boundaries of consciousness or common sense, that remain short trips for some and for some grow to become long, protracted expeditions, for many not to come back from. The drug irretrievably demolishes the stone bridge connecting the fortress-prison, that your personality inhabits, with society. And when the bridge is completely ruined, only bulls sticking out of the water in different directions like teeth of a fairy-tale hippopotamus remain, it starts to destroy your personality. But again, it is not about that. Drug is not the goal, only a means.
Novel “Naked Lunch” makes us think on how real or unreal is what we call “reality”.
Reality that is imposed on us, reality that surrounds us and reality that we dream of, occasionally waking up at night and looking into the emptiness, where the eye tries to focus but cannot catch any detail.
You should let reality in and give it up.
Reality is a reaction of consciousness to the result of the action in process that does not depend on our desires or abilities.
If you don't feel your legs, you can undress and lie next to me. Without a word, without a sound listen to lymph running through my neck.
A shrimp is my absolutely subjective symbol to represent the absurdity and and ridiculousness of problems that for some reason wouldn't let us live in harmony with ourselves.
My mouth is dry and teeth, sharp as blades, are starting to cut my tongue and gums. But we won't get up for nothing.
I will smile at you with a half-moon of dry blood and you'll reply with a wine-blue stripe your aroused mouth half open.
Uniform text began to crumble like a rotten flooring in the old attic. Words, colliding, began to pop out of the chain, making the text nonsensical, turning it into a number of separate words that, in their turn, collapsed into piles of accidental letters. A boiling point. The fish is only a key, not a medicine, and who knows, what is behind that closed door.
When the elevator is going up, there is always that one bitch that would start swinging it until it gets stuck, and if you want, I will be that bitch...
Kyiv, April 2013