They glitter on their display stands with words, phrases and sentences shimmering like sunlight on water. Liliane Lijn creates kinetic sculptures, the exhibition at Riflemaker showcases several of her recent poemdrums where, russian-doll-like, three interlocked cylinders – each with words etched out of them – rotate in different directions around a central light source. The text alludes to the immensities of time and space and the flickering movement draws you in as would a fire in the hearth. They invite you to reflect on your transience, your brief flicker as it were, measured against the light years of matter travelling across the universe. I guess it also contains a promise of immortality in that we are all made of stardust and that the group of atoms that currently define you will be scattered and regrouped elsewhere in other guises – you have been here since the beginning of time and will still be here when the show ends – you just probably won’t be aware of it.
Hmm, that does beg the question regarding consciousness, a real bugbear in these neurological times – where does that sit in the equation? A darkened room on the first floor possibly places it elsewhere – a display cabinet with the futuristic iridescent aerogel, a scattering of crumbled rock, a soundtrack that makes you feel that you have stumbled into a science fiction film and a lighting display reminiscent of Captain Scarlet’s deadly foes, the Mysterons may have you considering consciousness in different locations within time and space.