The Point at Which We Meet presented at Five Walls Gallery, 2021

All artworks by Tinieka Page and Adrian De Vries.

Exhibition Text:

To an old friend,

Do you remember me? I’m not sure if you will. We met on the edge of black and white several centuries ago, where the air was cold and we couldn’t touch each other. 

I remember you, but they say that before you die your whole life flashes before your eyes, like a glimpse through a kaleidoscope, so maybe it’s just an ancient, unwilling memory…. Though it’s strange. I think I miss you, and I’d like to see you again before it ends.

Are you still there on that grey edge? And you’ll have to remind me because I’ve forgotten (my damn, dusty brain): what colour is your head?

From your old friend,

One

One,

I remember. You, the edge, me before the edge.

I am stuck in the BLUE. Please find me. I have searched for RED PURPLE ORANGE GREEN and many more to no response. Everything is BLUE.

 It swallows me. My heart shivers.

Two.

To my friend Two,

You exist! But the blue, are you sure?

I didn’t see the blue, but instead a smudge of pale pink with its siren-coloured limbs folded, protecting itself by wrapping around a bright blue stripe, carved from the soft as if I were looking through a window. I thought I saw you in the white corners or the green curves, but I was wrong.

You never answered my question: what colour is your head?

From your friend,

One

One, 

I am sorry. I do not remember the colour of my head. I think I do not know many things, maybe lost them because I am stuck in this place. 

Try the GREEN. I fear there is not much time.

Two.

My friend,

It’s funny. I went to the green but saw no emerald at all, just delicate moss, and strangely, sitting atop it, ships the colour of a dark brooding red. Their hulls broke the pond water and gathered near each other like friends. Like us! 

I miss you. Please try to remember the colour of your head. If you can remember me, I trust you you’ll be able to remember yourself.

Your dearest,

One

One,

It is hopeless. I am alone. It is eating my heart.

Two.

Two,

Please don’t die.

One.

…

Two?

…

Though I forgot the path and distance, with time I recalled the inky cliff. Memory is fallible, but colour isn’t; this is what I’ve learned in my search for you. I felt it all. The drop. The splash. The mountain. And when I realised where it was, all I had to do was look down. I was by your side all along.

In that swallowing, shivering blackness, I was blinded by your head, yellow like a lighthouse in the storm.

I can no longer save you, but I’ll come with you. Wait for me.