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inside the gallery


What happened to you? You were standing there, and then you were still standing there, but your face had changed. It looked as though you had remembered something, and then it looked like you were about to speak, and then, even though you were still standing there, you looked like you had passed out. You had paled and your eyes were looking downwards, beyond your nose to nothing distinct, and you were standing there, but you were shrinking. In front of you were two portraits: Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Layers and layers of fine silk had been thickly woven into two mushroom clouds, furies of white and charcoal blending not inharmoniously into tones so deep as to appear like liquid. The two portraits were hung on the gallery wall side by side, and you had placed yourself in the centre before them. Behind you, people were forming a scattered arc, noting the intensity of the colours, not the sheen of the threads, the tight stiches made over and over.  And you were still standing, and perhaps the reason you didn’t say anything is because you were shrinking, shrinking into the silken clouds.

Find out more about this Hello Sunday excursion.

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