Screenings
This doesn't feel like the same river we used to swim in// Terry Silvester and Andrew Neil Hayes
Brand new video works by Bristol based artist duo TERRY SILVESTER and ANDREW NEIL HAYES
Opening Evening preview 29th 6 - 9
Playing alongside his team mate Drew in a pre-season friendly,
Dennis was rendered decrepit. The injury meant he spent too much
time in a hospital bed and he was miserable. Drew was concerned for
his friend and decided a holiday was in order
A few weeks later, on a long unusually hot August weekend, they
joined a group of tourists travelling through North Wales on a
pre-booked tour bus. The driver made scheduled stops at a slate mine
with an unpronounceable name and a colourless village with a scenic
waterfall, where there was a queue of the toilets. After a lay-by lunch
of egg sandwiches, dry currant cake and warm beer, they journeyed
up Snowdon. Despite sensible boots and rugged determination,
clambering up the steep path was a challenge for even the fittest
amongst them and given his incapacitation, the idea that Dennis could
make it to the top was optimistic. They wasted no time starting the
climb, but the combination of oppressive heat and fragile ankles made
progress arduous. Within no time, word came that someone was
missing. A search party was hastily arranged. Drew and Dennis joined
the others, who were all similarly dressed in walking gear they spent
hours looking for the missing man in their unflattering sun hats and
pointless waterproof jackets.
After several hours it became apparent that Dennis hadn’t
recognised the given description of himself, and the hunt was called
off. It was clear to everyone, Dennis was searching for himself.
Playing alongside his team mate Drew in a pre-season friendly,
Dennis was rendered decrepit. The injury meant he spent too much
time in a hospital bed and he was miserable. Drew was concerned for
his friend and decided a holiday was in order
A few weeks later, on a long unusually hot August weekend, they
joined a group of tourists travelling through North Wales on a
pre-booked tour bus. The driver made scheduled stops at a slate mine
with an unpronounceable name and a colourless village with a scenic
waterfall, where there was a queue of the toilets. After a lay-by lunch
of egg sandwiches, dry currant cake and warm beer, they journeyed
up Snowdon. Despite sensible boots and rugged determination,
clambering up the steep path was a challenge for even the fittest
amongst them and given his incapacitation, the idea that Dennis could
make it to the top was optimistic. They wasted no time starting the
climb, but the combination of oppressive heat and fragile ankles made
progress arduous. Within no time, word came that someone was
missing. A search party was hastily arranged. Drew and Dennis joined
the others, who were all similarly dressed in walking gear they spent
hours looking for the missing man in their unflattering sun hats and
pointless waterproof jackets.
After several hours it became apparent that Dennis hadn’t
recognised the given description of himself, and the hunt was called
off. It was clear to everyone, Dennis was searching for himself.
CREDIT
