James Stephen Wright
James Stephen Wright is a thing based in ♾ worlds, they are currently doing things of dubious importance, perhaps in the capacity of a group/swarm. The things art practice spans performance, music, installation, video/animation and technology with a research-led focus. They are interested in the relationship between nature and science, the tropes of Anthropocene and space exploration, as well as algorithms and quantum theory. Recent exhibitions include (ˌnɑnkəˈmjuːnɪkəbəl) performed live at GoMA, Glasgow (UK), Anecdotes from The Abyss, in collaboration with George Finlay Ramsay, FuturShock, FOLD London/ Lahmacun Radio Budapest, (UK/HU) and dualisms_oo, Internationales Kunstlerhaus Villa Concordia, Bamberg, (DE).
They have developed the largest nostrils compared to the size of their head of any organism. This allows them to locate the right perpendicular universe via a unique chemical trail that they can detect over vast distances. When they have successfully identified it, the organism begins the process by biting into the universe. This is usually on the underside (or belly) of the intersection point, but not exclusively, and if that wasn’t kinky enough for you, then things start to get really demented. Where the mouth of the organism comes into contact with the universe's flesh, their tissues fuse together in a disturbing and permanent union. Over time the organism's teeth, eyes and famous nostrils disappear, known as atrophy, but it doesn’t die. Instead, it is kept alive via nutrients from the perpendicular universes’ blood and postulations they extract through their own filaments. From this point on, they are essentially just an additional part of this new universe whose sole job is to create phenomenological experiences, essentially like an attachable penis. However, it gets weirder, because perpendicular universes can fuse with multiple organisms creating a mix of fused bodies that become one living orgy of experience. When it actually comes to the creation of experience, though, it gets even stranger still. When the universe is ready to expel postulations, it does so in a ‘gelatinous sheath’ trialling behind, which is designed to trap the meaning released by the attached organisms and can be up to 30 lightyears (or 2.838e+17 metres of what can only be described as quenelles of lard) in length. The gelatinous mix of meaning and postulations then breaks off and floats to the virtual, where the other states develop into larvae that grow until they are big enough to migrate back down to the shadow cast by the actual state of things. A virtual and continuous robotic performance, which extends from a previous work (ˌnɑnkə ˈmjuːnɪkəbəl) commissioned by GoMA in Glasgow, UK. These performing robotic organisms respond to the real space with movement and sound by collecting live air pollution data. These robotic organisms, feed off the pollution readings, creating a burbling soundscape. Live-streamed to the virtual universe full of gelatinous sheaths generated by the audience's presence, pumping out quenelles of meaning together. A multi-layer, surreal, performance, creating a perpendicular present world where the organic and artificial, the real and virtual are indistinguishable, and the world coming together might bring its own problems.