Alibi

It is better when the irony gets under way, and then the blood is fake and the artist proposes cliches precisely to expose them, such as Kiki Blood, which impersonates various types of women agitated by the eros / thanatos ratio, cutting with sharpened objects into white canvases from which blood flows, somewhere between Fontana and Nitsch.

Va meglio quando subentra l’ironia, e allora il sangue è finto e l’artista propone dei clichè proprio al fine di smascherarli, come Kiki Blood, che impersona vari tipi di donne variamente agitate dal rapporto eros/thanatos, tagliando con oggetti affilati tele da cui sgorga sangue, tra Fontana e Nitsch.

– Fabio Cavallucci

The clean white gallery space is adorned only with white raw canvases. Beneath each canvas is an instrument: an axe, a syringe, a knife, a drill, an ice pick, etc. Stanchions hang elegantly protecting the valuable collection.

The crowd emerges into the space slowly gathering for the show. I am amongst the onlookers in an elegant cocktail dress and heels, charming, engaging and social. Suddenly, I pick up the axe and hack at the first painting. The crisp white canvas is broken and rich blood-like red paint spreads from the hacked flesh of the stretched cotton. It is as if the painting has been murdered. It drips to the floor. Meanwhile, paparazzi take photos for the headlines. I engage again with the crowd, discussing my disdain for such an act. Again, unabashedly, I approach the second canvas, take the syringe and slowly inject poison into its’ pretty white flesh. Little blood drops emerge on the surface. I slip into the bathroom to wash my hands. Walking back with wine and gallery owner talking business, aloof, and engage the crowd once more. Again, taking a weapon to the hanging work, the third piece knows what’s next. This cycle continues until all pieces have become victims.

I gather the evidence and leave swiftly. Leaving only the victimized canvases.