Corten Sunset

An anti-monument

Corten Sunset 07.03.2018

-During a walk on the outskirts of Agrinio, a town in Greece, we found ourselves in front of a space somewhat different from other urban fringe voids. It had an interior character, surrounded as it was by small buildings, a church and an olive grove. It was quite similar to those usually removed and hidden, difficult to access, often closed off by strips of construction sites, which seem out of the world, out of control, wrapped in a sense of abandonment. Here, however, everything was suspended between inside-outside also suggesting unlikely analogies of an urban square with an alienating object in its center: A steel container for liquids resting on a pile of sand, and the sand under its weight seemed hard as stone blocks. It stood out prominently in the landscape and its centrality made it look like a monument of an imagined city. A monument that represented nothing, if not an infinite time in an empty space, or even only a basis for our presence. This construction oddity seemed brought there by some cyclone or tsunami or any other catastrophe like a sudden lowering of the water that had left it at two meters above ground. It was provoking us with its precarious static equilibrium.

Time had disappeared in that desolate square under a setting sun. The floating object fell upon us with sun rays like blades of sharp metal. The sun itself had a disturbing and at the same time reassuring presence. On fire, it lowered slowly. We called that moment: Corten Sunset. It was a springboard for diving into the sea of sensibility. Excited by the vision, we began to play. How do you climb on it? How does it feel and what do you see from up there? We felt the necessity to record and document what only we saw. Some hidden beauty. Now we are pioneers who are the first to climb a mountain or on the edge of a volcanic precipice, or a ravine above the infinite void. Now we can pull it like a boat on ocean waves, to turn it topside or move it out of its balance on some few grains of sand. Now it transforms into a big cosmic gong, producing spatial sounds. We were dancing! We were jumping!

We left it there forever and took the road back home. The whole sky had taken on the rust colour of corten.

excerpt from Zooming-In