Mark Nader | Crystalline Candy Clouds

In front of Mark Nader’s work, you find yourself in a busy maypole dance cum picnic, propagated with familiar, yet unusual artefacts. You have been transported into an alternate present, one in which past and present cultures are interwoven. We observe the hybrid artefacts and humans produced by this pseudo-historical relationship and try to decipher their distinct cultural elements.

Art Exhibition previously on at IMT Gallery in City of London, United Kingdom.
From Friday 08 July 2022 to Sunday 14 August 2022
Launch Thursday 07 July 2022, 7 - 10pm

Published by IMT Gallery on Friday 10 June 2022.
Contact the publisher.

Earthy forest aromas call to me, perhaps because they are piney and pungent like smoked chilli. Following the direction of the spicy scent, I spot a building with circular turrets, could it be an Oast house drying hops… hop, step, hop. Given a ribbon and we start dancing – step-hop-step-hop- step-hop-step-hop. Strong beats bellow through the air, I hear hornpipes and my feet are automatically stomping out the rhythm. Panic edges up my throbbing body, as I cannot stop the movement. Stuck in a merry-go-round, while yearning to reach the palms, tree ferns and meadow of sunflowers in the distance. Fast and getting faster, spiralling and spinning; my body is being woven in amidst the ribbons. Trapped, I tumble to the floor…

Nauseous and through blurred vision, I glance up towards a series of cake heads looking down at me – I cannot tell whether with concern or menace? I push myself up from a soft carpeted floor, reaching towards the Pink Wafer. Arm outstretched aimlessly, as the crowd withdraws at the sight of my hand coated in cyan paint. Pearly Queens thrust napkins and paper plates towards me, and usher me to a picnic table. Opposite is a Mr Kipling Apple Pie, which seems to have taken a fancy. Brazenly leaning in, our faces meld together… pulling away I take some of the Kipling with me. Sweet pastry still in my mouth, I blurt out with chunks of apple, ‘that was an exceedingly good kiss’.

While digesting my new lover, I am pulled out of the revelry by an inebriated Cactus. He is stumbling about and pricking lots of people, whose crumbs rub off on him. A flustered Scone, with cream dripping off them due to the heat of the day, turns around abruptly and is knocked by the unsuspecting and uncoordinated Cactus. Strawberries escape from the Scone and topple to the ground, which the Cactus clumsily falls on and squashes. Heckling from the sidelines, Iced Party Ring shouts, ‘Food fight!’ while all eyes/icing are on the Scone. Who turns scarlet, lunging towards a cowering Cactus that is backing away but still manages to spit out, “This is not costing me a house you numpty, it’s the only bit of hope I have.”

Location

IMT
Unit 2/210 Cambridge Heath Road, London, E2 9NQ