Yani aviles, Mira Dayal, Micah Schippa: The door you open is determined by how you twist the knob. The room you enter is deter

To the one who yearns, a sign
has sufficed.
For signs have always been
the language of the Gods.
Hölderlin

In the dark forest a string of bells line the path. Their soft chimes indicate how close you are to the edge marking a turn, a ledge, or even an incursion. Were anything else to cross the threshold of the path, the bells would chime. If you cannot feel the touch of the string or bells as they sound it means you are not alone here. Two on the same path, unable to see one another, setting off a twinkling of alarms audible to their counterpart. As you get closer and closer the sound of bells begin to blend and inevitably the threshold between where you and the other are becomes indistinguishable. The chimes trigger a subconscious reaction to switch or adjust direction.

Rerouting…

Expecting to bump into the other but never quite connecting. Fingers missing a graze by millimeters. You can only rely on the occasional glimmers of your own equilibrium to approximate what boundaries you’re in contact with until even this is no longer possible.
Perhaps to study symmetry in nature is an exercise in coincidence. To draw a connection between two things that have no prior reason to be together. An act of love or an act of poetry. Eventually the boundary line symphony subsides, and you neither saw nor touched your counterpart on the trail.

Rerouting…

The problem with thinking in terms of thresholds or frames and their endless intermingling, is our inability to maintain concentration. We become focused or dazed and simultaneously our perspective narrows like a tunnel. We look through a microscope or a telescope, or we myopically lean back and let light unambitiously flow in.

We can think of this grok on thresholds as a resonant practice, as opposed to a dissonant one. Dissonance drastically calls two things into relief; two magnets that repel and omit a strange buzzing sound. Coming together in resonance is not always as immediately perceptible. When a tuning fork is struck it emanates a force that seeks solace in like objects. A dormant tuning fork, tucked away in its box, will begin to vibrate while in proximity to an equally tuned fork that has been struck. It is our work to find solace in objects, words and people. To acknowledge and let the slow and low hum of the world pass through us.

Rerouting…

The door you open is determined by how you twist the knob. The room you enter is determined by how you open the door.

Apparatus had invited Yani aviles, Mira Dayal, and Micah Schippa to create an exhibition due to their mutual devotion to the written word. In the development of these works, their unique practices have triangulated that same devotion now devoid of text. The drawings, sculptures, and sounds presently ensembled are shaped into a series of sentences without words, a congregation of signs yearning to speak the language of Gods.