COLLAPSE / GALLERY TWO

Lewis Cancut

4 – 21 March 2021

I’ve always felt the most exciting aspect of Gothic literature is its emphasis on sound, the relentless gasping, scratching, and howling which animates its yellowed pages. In weird stories of the supernatural, sound often functions as a marker that some sensible boundary has been crossed or worse still, as a rabid accelerant towards madness. The fluidity of sound as a material - by which I mean its compulsion to leak, bleed, and dissipate - puts it Gothically at odds with society’s stale thirst for orderly categorization. Within this Gothic trope, sound beguiles me with its capacity to echo that inflamed, invisible world; a vast outside where distinctions between living and non-living are blurred.