I only write postcards to those whom I love. With the presumption that you are loved by me, here is what I would write to you about my visit to Zurich:
To get into town from the airport, I took a tram which reminded me of those in Gothenburg. I also walked part of the way along a river with water so clear you could make out the whole history of the city with a glance at the riverbed.
You know how I feel about the work of Carol Rama, so I’ll skip to the point and tell you about how I encountered her this time. It was in a group show at Lévy Gorvy which is just up the road from where my drawings are being shown this summer at Fabian Lang gallery.
It was Art Weekend, so every exhibition space had various hangover aids in place. Here, orange juice and croissants were offered on a table integrated into the exhibition, a reminder that bodies require sustenance for sustained looking.
The Rama I want to tell you about is on the wall facing you when you walk in. As is often the case with her rubber works, the whole piece is rust red and dusty black. It’s made of deflated bicycle tires hanging from a metal hook attached to a black canvas which is horizontally intersected by a strip of sheet metal. When looking for horizontality in Rama’s images, her braid – which she wore pinned around her head, and crossed her forehead like a low-hanging crown – comes to mind. So, here is this object on the wall: rubber and skin and metal and canvas and braid, and it looks back at me through a metal valve protruding from one of the tires. I am looking Rama in the face, and we share in skin-bound madness. If there’s anything you should see this summer, it is this.
Sara Anstis (b. 1991, Stockholm) was raised on a small island off the Canadian west coast, and draws wherever she finds good light. She holds an MFA from Valand Academy, Gothenburg, and is currently based in London.