1150 25th St /
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Codes of Silence
Libby Black | Bryan Castro | Enar de Dios Rodríguez | Languid Hands (Rabz Lansiquot & Imani Mason Jordan) | Cinque Mubarak | WORK/PLAY
Curated by Leila Weefur
Silence. A sound, which, more than any other sound, can transform in shape, bypass architectures, and crumble barriers. Silence has the power to be the loudest thing to fill a space, yet can create a deafening quiet, leaving still the earth and the bodies that inhabit it. Silence is a space with the capacity to hold all of humanity’s told and untold histories, compressing time within a boundless form. Silence is black — like the color, like the cast of an opaque shadow, like a black hole, like the still of night.
Silence. A sound, which, more than any other sound, can transform in shape, bypass architectures, and crumble barriers. Silence has the power to be the loudest thing to fill a space, yet can create a deafening quiet, leaving still the earth and the bodies that inhabit it. Silence is a space with the capacity to hold all of humanity’s told and untold histories, compressing time within a boundless form. Silence is black — like the color, like the cast of an opaque shadow, like a black hole, like the still of night. What if, in silence, we could discover an empowering eloquence? A depth that is not weaponized to make the disempowered voiceless but used to bind together common struggles in a cacophony of energy. Just like silence must be recognized in its complexity, the resonance of an identity is meant to be heard and felt, not just seen. Let us remember the infinite possibilities of silence. Silence in the wrong context can be harmful, yes. However, in silence, there is a potential power and promise that can be heard. “There is the dumb silence of slumber or apathy; the sober silence that can be heard.
“There is the dumb silence of slumber or apathy; the sober silence that goes with a solemn animal face; the fertile silence of awareness, pasturing the soul, whence emerge new thoughts; the alive silence of alert perception, ready to say, ‘This… this…’; the musical silence that accompanies absorbed activity; the silence of listening to another speak, catching the drift and helping him be clear; the noisy silence of resentment and self-recrimination, loud and subvocal speech but sullen to say it; baffled silence; the silence of peaceful accord with other persons or communion with the cosmos.” — Paul Goodman, "Nine Kinds of Silence."
Codes of Silence addresses the incalculable ways we experience silence and how silence has been encoded in being. This is an attempt to reckon with the tension of discerning who should be heard and when; an attempt to shape how our conceptual world guides and limits our ability to listen. This exhibition challenges the hierarchies of perception, not only through an examination of political visibility but through the sensorial experience of sound— and its absence. Codes of Silence is designed to guide us through individualized and collective experiences, with a range of textual and visual explorations calling upon us to read between the lines. This selection of work emphasizes the subtleties of silence, bringing together interpretations that have been understood by the body. Silence is an unspoken code present in mechanisms of control and systems of oppression. Silence is a condition, a disruption, and a voice.