1950’s American vinyl records, containing nothing but love songs, have been plunged repeatedly in baths of tar.
This substance conserves whatever materials it coats, and today it seems like the epitome of petroleum and its attendant nuisances. It seems that the disc itself, snared in its own trap, has started to melt of its own accord: its syrupy songs are sinking into their own black syrup. Thus, from behind their naïve façade, these tired old tunes assume a new, mysterious dimension, laden with meaning.
Original LPs and EPs, tar, frame
33 x 27 cm