The Air Is On Fire

This is bad of me - like Mette from Ungt Blod did a few times, I'm about to recommend an exhibition a little too late. It ends tomorrow.

But David Lynchs 'The Air Is On Fire' is out-of-this-world amazing.

I took a lot of pictures, that even if I had state-of-the-art equipment would not do the pieces justice.

'Pete goes to his girlfriends house' - underneath the zoomed image of her is the word 'end' written in coal.  It gave me shivers, that little anonymous x and 'end'.

'Because of wayward activity upon unproductive thinking, Bob meets mister REDMAN.'
'Oh no.'

 'The flames of desire and the twisted facilitater'

These pieces above were big. His materials unortodox - at least to an art-novice as myself. But he really understood the subjects and the way he could manipulate fire, ashes, glue, foam, textile, even dead flies.

He is so brutal towards women, but his revenge on assaulting men is awing and terrible.

'I hold you tight'.

'Mine'.
This picture, in its simple way, speaks so loud and overwhelmingly to me.

It was such a grim exhibition, but he has so much humor, that I was laughing most of the time, when shivers wasn't running down my spine from horror.

I knew his ideas would be amazing, but I wasn't expecting his skills, his techniques to be soo full and convincing.

Also, in more than 200 ringfolders, he's kept drawings, sketches, doodles on napkins, and some of them are on display - if you know your Lynch, it's fun to see ideas unfold from an inkdot on a post-it to e.g. Dune, Wild at Heart or Twin Peaks.

Love,
Ida

P.s. Bob is the scarriest thing on earth...