Rona Pondick


In the opening lines of Georges Bataille’s unnerving essay “The Solar Anus,” he writes, “It is clear that the world is purely parodic, that each thing seen is the parody of another, or is the same thing in deceptive form.” To illustrate his notion of parody, he draws a parallel between the sun and darkness, the mind and anus, describing the intellect as “an erotic force, up from the ape’s provocative anus to the erect human’s head and brain.” Bataille’s “parody” applies, in structure as well as conception, to Rona Pondick’s unsettling installation, Beds. In a sequence of three rooms which recede into the depths of the gallery, Pondick installed three different bed formations. In each one, a parodic episode ensues which simultaneously venerates taboos and denigrates the sacred.

The first room is bathed in light. A bed of long pillows is propped up at one end by a block of rough-hewn wood.

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