Tatarnik
La Chaufferie
Strasbourg
As part of Slavs and Tatars' workshop
In these uncertain times, speculation is a dirty word, especially in French where it conjures up financial conjecture, flipping assets and the like. But as we witness the crumbling of an existing order, unable yet grasp the birth of a new one, perhaps guessing–the hypothesizing of possible other worlds–is all we are left with. For Slavs and Tatars’ workshop SEE-MORE-ق at HEAR, Ke-Tang Lee’s drawings of canines unsettle the usual source of affection one associated with domestic animals in the internet era. Shamil Shaaev’s delicately painted thistles stand as a symbol of seduction and resistance: called татарник (Tatarnik) in Russian, from the ethnic group centuries of Russian history has associated with oriental tropes of savagery and barbarism. Tamara Dolidze’s large-format exercise books of Georgian language re-engage with notions of acquisition and loss any language embodies, much like Lee’s Why Can’t I Write Better calligraphies in Chinese. Bahar Avunca explores Turkic carpet motifs as a system of signs and language without words while Paul Babo’s photo and video work about abandoned architecture–from stone quarries to ex-Yugoslav monuments–suggests a form of pilgrimage to the anthropomorphic follies of extraction.
Text: Payam Sharifi
La Chaufferie
Strasbourg
As part of Slavs and Tatars' workshop
In these uncertain times, speculation is a dirty word, especially in French where it conjures up financial conjecture, flipping assets and the like. But as we witness the crumbling of an existing order, unable yet grasp the birth of a new one, perhaps guessing–the hypothesizing of possible other worlds–is all we are left with. For Slavs and Tatars’ workshop SEE-MORE-ق at HEAR, Ke-Tang Lee’s drawings of canines unsettle the usual source of affection one associated with domestic animals in the internet era. Shamil Shaaev’s delicately painted thistles stand as a symbol of seduction and resistance: called татарник (Tatarnik) in Russian, from the ethnic group centuries of Russian history has associated with oriental tropes of savagery and barbarism. Tamara Dolidze’s large-format exercise books of Georgian language re-engage with notions of acquisition and loss any language embodies, much like Lee’s Why Can’t I Write Better calligraphies in Chinese. Bahar Avunca explores Turkic carpet motifs as a system of signs and language without words while Paul Babo’s photo and video work about abandoned architecture–from stone quarries to ex-Yugoslav monuments–suggests a form of pilgrimage to the anthropomorphic follies of extraction.
Text: Payam Sharifi
