Blood finds its way where it supposedly cannot go. Light does the same, moves in sudden darts. It leaps into view and hides behind the couch. There are stories (no, I’m making this up) about boxes: moving boxes, shoeboxes, beauty cases, even urns, that emit light. Not lamp light, not something with a sensor and a battery or whatever. No, just light. Daylight. Daylight from days ago, stored inside a box. It must have crawled inside when the lid was open.
Light. It does all kinds of things. Behind our backs. Inside our eyeballs. Light is playful, quick. It bends around the corner, sneaks down the stairs, then flashes outside (I’m making this up too).
Vinny Jones works with light. She is a scenographer. Works with light in spaces, but somehow she does it differently from others. Traditional lighting asks spectators to be impressed by what they see. Vinny’s work moves beyond the eye; does something to the whole body. It appeals to a sensory memory. As if with a small hook, it pulls something unnameable up to the surface.
From January 5 to 18, Vinny Jones is in residence at Vlaams Cultuurhuis de Brakke Grond. In February, during Beyond the Black Box, she’ll share Blue beyond the Black Box.