... MAYBE IT'S JUST US.: Group show

…MAYBE IT’S JUST US. 

ANDREW SCHOULTZ, ASAD FAULWELL, CONRAD RUIZ, UMAR RASHID

 

GALERIE DROSTE PARIS

18 RUE DUSSOUBS

75002 PARIS

 

[…]

 

"And what about the monster?" Something strange happened to Percival. He yawned and stumbled, Jack grabbed him and shook him. "Where does it lodge?"

Percival slumped in Jack's hands.

"It must be a pretty clever critter," Piggy scoffed, "if it can hide on the island."

"Jack's been all over -"

"Where could that monster be hiding?"

"Monster, my ass!"

Percival muttered something, and again everyone laughed. Ralph leaned forward. "What did he say?"

 

[…]


And already the ramp was full of arguing, gesticulating shadows. To Ralph, still seated, it seemed like the loss of sanity. Fear, monsters, but no general agreement that fire was the most important thing. And when they tried to get things back on track, the argument digressed completely and raised new, uncomfortable questions.

Recognizing something in the dimness beside him, he grabbed Maurice's horn and blew as loud as he could.  The assembly fell silent, startled. Simon stood next to Ralph and put his hands on the horn. Simon desperately needed to say something, but speaking in front of everyone was a terrifying thing for him to do. "Perhaps," he said hesitantly, "perhaps there is a monster after all."

Those gathered cried out wildly; Ralf stood dumbfounded. "You, Simon? You believe in it?"

"I don't know," Simon replied. His heartbeat constricted his throat. "But ..."

A storm broke loose.

"Sit down!"

"Shut up!"

"Take the horn!"

"Fuck you!"

"Shut up!"

Ralph shouted, "Listen to him! He's got the conch!"

"I just mean ... maybe it's just us."

"Bullshit!" said Piggy; he was so shocked that he lost his composure.

"Simon kept talking, "Maybe we're ..." He was at a loss for words to put into words the basic evil of humanity. Then he thought of something: "What is the dirtiest thing there is?" In reply, Jack threw the one crude, drastic word into the silence. The general excitement was tremendous. The little ones who had climbed back on the seesaw fell off again, but were not bothered by it. The hunters shrieked with delight.

Simon's effort was undone; the laughter pelted him brutally, and he sank down in his seat without any defense."

 

[…]

 

Excerpt from: William Golding. "Lord of the Flies“. Novel 1954. P.100-101. 

 

The group exhibition features new works by artists ANDREW SCHOULTZ (US), ASAD FAULWELL (US), CONRAD RUIZ (US) and UMAR RASHID (US).