Dreams in Ultraviolet
The station of his manufacture was once a beacon of male procreative power. Now void, its walls remain lined with the pointed monuments of a forgotten machismo; an authority rendered null. He quests onward through the ethereal channels of this barren fortress. Each sector remains bare, but this sterility provides him comfort.
A pulsating hum rises as two mechanical limbs rotate to face one another. These are the tools of his mass-production — automated and austere phalli whose form appears scorpion-esque. They gracefully bow and then progress through choreographed actions; a courtship display of pumping pistons and fluid motions. Falling in and out of synchronicity, they reserve their intimacies and retreat tip-from-tip. Their union was a fantasy.
In the control room, he meets them. The resistant sheen of their skin is an accurate copy of his, taken from the unremitting blueprint from which they were all constructed. Their haunting movements and prolonged stares insist on total presence. Yet, without phallus, they are unable to perform their body’s one role. They are bionic shells of a hollowed masculinity.
He knows this to be a momentary vessel, Utopia is elsewhere.
Dreams in Ultraviolet is the first part in a trilogy, followed by Beyond the Water’s Edge and Eternal Relics.
2ch HD video | 1ch sound
Commissioned for Future Body, 2017, The Collection, Art & Archaeology in Lincolnshire.