A knock on the head, a poke in the eye
December 24th, 2010, By Duncan Gough
From a Ballardian death-echo, to an anonymous, location-less installation. There are so many ideas that inform what Bliss represents, and yet it’s difficult to articulate the ideas behind the idea.
I haven’t an elevator pitch for this thing, and as much as I like the determinate nature of an idea that can only connect instinctively, something needs to give.
Bliss is a platform of play, but not yet a game. A toy but not a toy set. It’s a precipitation of ideas, a patchwork of layered passivity.
It’s the oncoming wave of social fabric. It is patchwork, the sinews of London laid out in two dimensions, embracing the friction.
I have hundreds of reference points that inveigle themselves into Bliss, and in this instance I don’t want to deny their validity. Interestingly, most of them are musical, and music is love.
“The clouds were very participative, the crowd was very precipitative.”
Bliss.