This play is a reflection on the (im)possibility of accepting diversity and the other. The fragmented body of the neoplasm—the fruit of unstable conditions—overcomes barriers, loves and denies itself and others, wanders around, forgetting its profession. It frequently and with pleasure divides, goes through dangerous palpation, questions the possibility of contact with the experience of the other. Poorly brought up but very successful, it invites us to a trans-species transition.
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Fusce at elit quis felis ullamcorper vehicula non in est. Maecenas finibus pharetra justo et faucibus. Nulla eu tortor vel ex volutpat efficitur. Vivamus placerat turpis in aliquet venenatis. Quisque ac lacinia mauris. Nam quis lobortis elit. Vestibulum sagittis nisi sit amet euismod hendrerit. Mauris non sodales odio. Donec efficitur molestie quam, sed lobortis massa vestibulum ut.
Nunc at arcu sodales nisi porta euismod non vel neque. Phasellus at lobortis ante, in suscipit justo. Proin non purus vitae nisi molestie consectetur. Vestibulum volutpat lobortis interdum. Vestibulum pretium ligula lorem, egestas ultricies lectus ultricies ac. Curabitur venenatis vulputate dolor.
Public billboard above The Waffle Shop, 124 South Highland Avenue, East Liberty, Pittsburgh, PA. Curated by Georgina Jackson
When
2011
Ferhat Özgür works in a variety of media, including video, photography, painting, and installation works. In his work, he examines the role of subjectivity within today’s social, cultural, and political geographies through everyday events and rituals. In earlier work, entitled I am like this 7 days of week (2004), he videoed himself waiting to cross at a pedestrian crossing and yet when the green light appeared he walked up on the bonnets of the stationary cars and then walked on. Such slight insertions into daily routine, shifting from location to location, question the role of subjectivity within our geopolitical context and unhinge notions of the universal and the particular.
