The ram and the snail, their heads on sticks, an adage to the slow and steady, the bull headed and the plain fact that we conscious uprights rule this spinning ball as collectors and destroyers alike.
Tillge Lunds display has implicated personal value in earth, the sticky kind, hunted down blocks of treated mud, a mire that was spun into white gold, collected through networks of fellow “Mudders” from most corners of this globe.
The pristine white clay from five lands, some of which sits, still, in the form it was delivered or mounted photos of wedged trophies in golden hued frames. The works face a geopolitical puzzle, revealed within the exhaustive correspondents, the issues show us that maybe earth is earth, but clay isn’t clay. Is this a judgment of quality, the chemical balance, purity or an indictment of cooperative comrades in porcelain arms?
As we delve deeper into the communication is it the politics of claimed stakes on the earth or is it more a discovery, an archaeological display set into the backdrop of white walls and onlookers, a way to abstractly view something that one takes for granted, seeing the process before the building process, analyzing the qualities of the raw materials and creating before the creators.
Tillge Lund pleasantly discards a foreboding profession of the decorative, this corollary leaves us looking past porcelain as the comfortable and puritanical, ever clean and everyday instead put to the conceptual depths of the material as the finality not just the substance. Tillge Lund leans deeply away from a notion of the absolute rule.
Fuck style, fuck craft this is material fetishism.