6 - 29 May 2016
Jacques currently lives and works in London.
A conversation between Oliver Roger Williams and Jacques Rogers.
Oliver Roger Williams: The headache will return, the fire might not be tamed, nostalgia or distraction may not save us, but where else can we live but days? It’s unclear whether it’s just one thing after another or if it’s always different, always the same.
Jacques Rogers: It’s a vertigo of the everyday that I was thinking about in particular. Perhaps something exacerbated by advanced capitalist operations, patholigisation of individuals, causing anxiety and its associated detrimental psychological effects. The objects shown, as bought commodity items, and paired with paracetamols, make a claim to act as carriers for this idea.
Camus says that it’s the moment Sisyphus (imagined as proletariat worker) has while he walks to the bottom of the mountain, after having pushed his rock up the mountain, where he understands the absurdity of his endless plight. Suicide is suggested as the only real way out. Whilst shopping for the paracetamol for the exhibition I found I had to buy it from several different shops as they didn’t allow me to purchase more than two packets - presumably to prevent an overdose - I suspect there’s a fatal amount in the exhibition.
ORW: These anecdotes seem important to the show, somehow grounding the ‘big themes’ your practice might name but intentionally fail to represent or resolve, whilst complicating the alternating registers of mundanity and angst with that of absurdity.
JR: I like that the anecdotes skirt around the issue. Also the way they quite quickly become codas for the more serious and complex problems of life. I come back to this one particular image of one drinking too much and feeling bad so taking something for your headache - just to do it again the next night anyway. Or detox…retox… detox….retox…detox. Or carefully using a water filter everyday and then reading an article on the Guardian website saying it doesn’t do anything.
ORW: I’m interested in how the painterly marks might function on these impotent objects and within the attitudes of the show. How far would you be willing to concede a sincerity or believability over what could be a glib rehearsal of the subsumed cultural and capital values of abstraction?
JR: It’s always a leap of faith one way or another