Alice Lettuce

Collaboration with Julia S. Goodman
mixed media objects, 2017
Exhibition views KLUCKYLAND, Vienna, Austria

I heard honey never goes bad. The particles are packed so tightly, that there are jars of honey dating from antiquity that could be cracked open and spread on some slice of fresh bread or mixed into the dressing of a salad.

Over a banh mi in the kitchen of Julia and Gabi‘s studio we discussed Alice Lettuce. Each object I encounter around these two women, either in the show or simply in their presence, hints to a story, a relation, a debate, and quite often to negotiating relationships.

During the set up for the show, Kluckyland had been wrapped in butcher paper. When the paper came down it revealed a wonderland stuck inside a vitrine. The concrete floor had sprouted gothic „Waschbeton“ shoes, which became pedestals for a bar to rest upon. And an acrobat is now exercising on Toblerone bars. The fantastic flourishes of these large works are balanced by domestic cues that invite us further into the installation. Amongst the sculptures and paintings, while breathing and feeling the air-conditioned atmosphere in Kluckyland, the viewer gets to experience the joy and the fun of being in a conversation with the artists.

A fridge out of fresco panels stuffed with veggies, Hellmann’s, and Tropicana sits inside the wall. Seemingly it has found a similar momentum to the tightly packed honey but so unlike the performativity of melting ice in the goth shoe sculpture.

And just like that, Alice Lettuce sparks a dialogue with a wide range of questions — questions that begin with thoughts on freshness, rotting, conservation and withering. Are as domestic as, which is the best Teutonic grocer: Billa, Spar or Merkur? And as simple as: What is for dinner?

Text by Myles Starr