OPAVIVARÁ! | PORNORAMA

Contemplate!
See how art can be, touch, feel, enter, let yourself be penetrated by it,
come alone, come to receive, come ...
Come until contemplation is not enough, then ... Do

We must not forget that we were taught to forget. That is the point. The end point that was set. A forgetfulness necessary to learn, to give way to right and wrong. We learn and apprehend by repetition to arrive at knowledge. Knowledge comes from practice, often (if not always) through the conduct of that which is the right thing to be done. The right way to be assimilated. The right way. The way. The.

And so we are compartmentalized into places and behaviors that are correct and contours that can make sense, education and sociability hide that which is dirty under the rug. What is seen as unpleasant is a value judgment to determine how to be and how to do, and also what to be and what to do.

This thing.
This loop.
This steel.
This trace.
This stuff.
This orgy.
This dish.
This life.
This thing.
This girl. This boy.
This truth this lie truth lie truth lie.
Take it off.
Get it out of here.
Get me out.
Take it off?

Remove everything, everything ... Except that which is revolutionary.

The work of OPAVIVARÁ puts us in a position of activity. Fruition is active. More than an activation of the object, more than the activation of the body, more than the activation of spectator-work. It is an activity of the original memory of the whole. They are public calls of intimacy, such as an invitation to a collective pelvis, a pulsation of fluids, pubic hair, moans and rhythms that overwhelm with the approval of each and all who pass through here.

Without fear of the hot ass, the fire that makes us move, from where we left, from where the recognition of the revolution can come. An ode to ass and its power, power to be a mouth, from beginning to end; of being a method, of not having to be dichotomous, word and thing, object and factory, entrance and exit. Simple on each dilated fold, complex in each process. The ass is a process in itself. The ass, a mulled over memory, assimilating, without teeth, ready and common.

This original memory of the everything that places us as a latent body, ready for laughter, for enjoyment and for use, the use of everything and the whole. They are memories, a quantity of memories that accumulate, that trigger more memories, that open more memories and are so many that of so many it can be All, All.

Let the exchange, the food, the just, the right, the laughter, the enjoyment, the start, the grandeur, the lick, the age, the shouting, the street, the softness, the intensity, the fragrance, the drink, the stink, the hour, the music, the cloaca, the look, the meat; that these remain to be counted. Tell of the intimacy of space-time. Intimacy is a cry, it does not come slowly, it is a rapture that breaks without apology, balances. It’s the house and the miasma. It’s alcohol in worship, it’s sex at work. And it’s a story.

This exhibition rescues the memory that we are a body, we sweat, stink, eat, fuck, that we have and that we are possessed of power and exchange.

And it is for the power of the body that I ask for a toast.
To celebrate the fluids.
To perceive the induction, and it is in this perception that the works of OPAVIVARÁ live, like a song of war, that alerts us.

Here the final point is perceived and withdrawn, swallowed, ingested, consumed and forgotten, yes.
An invitation, be ready to remember.

– Keyna Eleison, April 2019