On the narrow margins of consciousness, the world appears for itself. Both familiar and estranging, this register arrives in exhaustive states, when we are no longer able to make sense of things and are left only to notice. Here, like on the edge of sleep, phenomena behave freely. In the back seat at night, the world passes like this: streetlights cross surfaces, casting shadows in rhythm. The low hum of the engine triggers recurring sequences, loosening time. Half-voices in the front seat speak forward, their sound trails backward.
Muted dashboard glow.
Sodium orange.

Lifted weight shifts from mohair upholstery to unsteady frame, somewhere arrived. This impression is a prelude for the exhibition, under sodium light. It challenges how space and form are mediated through the central position of perception. Like the dim orange glow of sodium streetlights, under which things become curious in an unexpected refuge from meaning, the works in this exhibition reside in a state of ambiguity. Both object and space may appear and interact on their own terms, while subjectivity is unanchored. Drawing on questions of ‘presence’ taken up in phenomenology, under sodium light invites attention to a more pre-reflective mode of experience, allowing both perception and the exhibition to unfold and deconstruct.