Gil Zablodovsky | Dancing With Tears in my Eyes
Grosso Modo gallery
Zablodovsky’s project borrowed it’s name from the Ultravox hit released in 1984, reflecting the concerns held at the time around issues of nuclear conflict, and the last dance held at humanity’s final moments. The collision of these polarities- fear of annihilation, and the potential for healing found in connecting to other people, is the foundation of this exhibition.
Large slivery Mylar sheets separate the interior from the outside world, turning the gallery into a a greenhouse for vulnerable processes, a safe space for an internal conversation. Mylar, a material used for gardening and agriculture, and as blankets in emergencies, supports healing and growth, a strong protective layer for invisible processes. Soft low magenta lights flood the gallery, referring to hydroponic greenhouses and the artificial light used to provide optimal conditions for growth when they are not accessible on the outside. A spiked Aloe vera plant sits on a concrete step, withholding the secrets of healing it possesses.
A large tear hangs from the corner of an eye, recurring throughout the exhibition in various forms and materials. Zablodovsky disassembles and rebuilds the image, transforming the ultimate symbol of vision and visibility, of our vulnerabilities and heart aches. The symbol of the eye- the power of the gaze, overflows with obsessive replication. The anxiety connected to the gaze is due to its force and potential to deliver pain. The gaze is also present in a video looping a never-ending list of rules and restricitions, born from a discussion the artist held with the ChatGPT bot. The list of boundaries lay down the foundations of this inner world we are invited into.
“So why are you not seen?… can you even feel anything?….. and my heart beats, but is anyone listening? Can you see me?” The artist’s voice echoes through the space. Will the gaze be compassionate and protecting? Will it provide an answer to feeling overwhelmed. Inside this pink greenhouse the public sphere is present in the form if neon lights, a disco ball turning on its axis, eyes falling out of it like scattered peacock feathers. Layer upon layer of kalydescopic images pile up like scales of armour, dancing happily with the flow of tears, to engulfing neon lights.
What gaze writes his body?
What reflected is loving and deserves to be loved. Let’s dance together.
All hearts beat to the same rythem.
