Natalie Price Hafslund & Barbara Wesolowska
Mirror of Impalpable Nudity
Spirit In Four Movements
I move through the water with a perpetual restlessness, full of alternating sensations of satisfaction and fear, a woman in pursuit of other women. Armed and naked, I slip into a nearby cave.
With the voice of 100 English rock stars I politely tell a silver charmed gentleman in performance-based swimwear that I am very, very serious about passion and although not clearly defined sexually I am eminently versatile and subtle with an impassable curiosity.
I show him my tongue is covered in caramel and a few syllables of dead languages slip out of my vagina. I am stabbed repeatedly in the feet with black cocktail sticks but hold my ground knowing my body can dissolve a chicken in under an hour. Murderous and luminous I float towards the mouth of the cave sustaining counter shocks from Socrates’ grandfather and leave declaring my virtue intact.
The wind is so strong my mortal libido is dislocated, the soil is made from rolling papers that stick to my wet body filling my imagination with the infinite personalities of a forehead detective. I shake a fig tree till neither of us can tell whose blood it is and declare ourself a Figtress. Submitting to our heaviness we piss on and off every single cliff, set it alight and head into the city to extract salt from its wickedness.
I part my foliage, fill my cheeks and with the nerve of a seagull descend into a nightclub full of strangers that have kidneys as hearts. Dancing homicidally, I sense the wet I can feel might not come from me and use it to travel across the floor until the DJ tells me they have a heart full of salt and are looking for a slug to dissolve. I apply a silencer to my blushing, ineffable body and exit the megalopolis through a field to push over drunk teenagers. A young stag looks up from the mud and asks how I maintain such leaden integrity. I tell him I keep birds in my duvet and paint Jesus’ eyes on the back of my eyelids.
I know no further need for excitement and refuse to lend myself for thankless possession that is in no way an economic necessity. I retire to the bath and resist depth by rotating my legs as if I am on a catwalk and wear the water as an outrageous failure.
Natalie Price Hafslund
Natalie Price Hafslund (b.1987) was born in Devon and lives and works in Oslo, Norway. Recent exhibitions include Imagoholics at Elephant in Los Angeles; Astral Sleaze at Kunstraum Rorsharch, St Gallen CH; and Clean Criminal UKS (Young Artists Society) in Oslo. She graduated from the Mountain School in LA 2016 and the Royal College of Arts in 2015.
Barbara Wesolowska (b.1984) is originally from Poland and lives and works in London. Recent exhibitions include The Vapours, Bamburg Kunstverein, Bamburg Germany; In the Flesh, Peles Empire, Berlin; and A Wind in the Door, Runpeltstiltskin, New York. She graduated from the Slade in 2013 and the Royal College of Arts in 2015.
This exhibition was devised by Price Hafslund and Wesolowska.