meys

meys is a root word in proto-Indo-European that means to change, to ferment, to mix. Conceived as a narrative route, meys begins with the demolition of the London-based Peckham Civic Centre, and moves through to a grand, subterranean chamber by way of a tunnel. Inspired by her encounter with termite mounds during her travels in the Australian outback, and her ensuing study of eusocial insects, meys is Marguerite’s proposal for a new collectivism that emerges in the wake of another.

A drawing of the Civic Centre’s 1965 mural, in which all human figures are removed, opens the exhibition. Opposite it, a large, ceramic installation created with the consultation of GPT3 – through which the mural’s long-deceased artist, Adam Kossowski, was reanimated and consulted – is fragmented and dispersed across the walls. The visitor is then led to the gallery’s principal room by way of a corridor, at whose end the video work Collective Effervescence (2023) is situated; made from images generated by AI software Dall-E which are then animated by a human, the black-and-white video features scenes of dancing termites and recalls visuals from scientific illustration or spirit photography. From there, the exhibition opens onto a cavernous space, within which a collective of dimly lit ‘guardians’ may be discovered. Made from malleable materials such as beeswax, handblown glass and carved wood, their rippled and stippled surfaces recall patterns and textures found in nature, from fungal formations to honeycomb. An ever-evolving, chance-based score by experimental saxophonist Bendik Giske is distributed among the Guardian sculptures. Drifting in and out of synchronisation like an orchestra tuning, the score runs its course as each sculpture emanates its own unique, looping refrain. A series of usable rocking chairs made of termite-eaten wood are interspersed around the space; a human rest stop and invitation for attunement, when used they mimic the gentle fluttering of falling leaves.