Back Yard

An exhibition showing works by Mark Corfield-Moore, Witalij Frese & Michael Rupini

A ferality of green threatens the locked symmetry of the man made. Over the fences they are curious. Eyes groping the curves that swell and swagger, the buds that explode in vivid climax. Emotions are buried neatly at the borders. The site of the first sin is the sanctuary of the suburb, of Illicit fruits that are wormed through, but still sweet. The snake uncoils. A water feature, reclining chairs, something fractured that could be saved by the sun. Time resists and then relents; the earth deep stability of the root allows for the transience of the leaves. There are still some teeth you should fear. When night comes every kind of eye flashes with the moon.

Text Fayann Smith