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| Bryan Benge |
Welcome to Sets, Series and Ensembles, an exhibition of art in public places. Accompanying each public art placement is a 'First Response' for you to read here on the website. As artists and writers we are constantly collecting ideas, objects, themes, and sentiments. We are often searching for the connections and narratives that help us understand both our lives and our art.
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| Bryan Benge |
They live among us! We are surrounded by Bryan Benge's art invasion. Bryan has been among us here at CollectConnect since the start of our public art adventure. Today his small art army leave their calling cards on the streets of the UK, watch out, they have arrived! Natalie Low is keeping tabs on their movements, read her story below.
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| Bryan Benge |
Our first missions were to save the pollinators, the clothed and naked snails, and the soft pink serpents.
At night, the Master prayed and murmured to the silver-framed lithograph of his cloaked hero.
He mused and philosophised with us. Once he explained the significance of the wine glass made of wood: “A glass made of wood may still be a glass.”
The robot twins (non-identical) and I would have followed Master anywhere.
But by the last mission, to claim the red tower, he had grown troubled and quiet. No matter how many we saved, the monster-birds would always snatch them up in their mouths and into the sky. Our dwellings were repeatedly demolished by the walking giants, each demolition squashing his heart as well.
We scaled the red tower, with the support of our flotsam flotilla, although I could not plant our flag in its impenetrable shiny surface.
“The tower is ours, Master,” I cried.
But he was looking away from me, and I could not see his face. “How many more red towers are there? How vast is this world?”
Our night of triumph was instead subdued and despondent.
I lay my head in his lap, curling my tail around his hand.
“You are too good for this world, Master.”
He shook his head. “I am too small for this world.”
“Your ambitions are great.”
“My ambitions are too great for my size.”
The next morning he had gone, the dew of his footprints already disappearing under the warmth of the blue day.
We continue our work, moving paper boulders to the side of the road, claiming new towers and righting inverted bugs.
But in truth our leaderless band of ill-assorts is heartsore and weary, our spirit decapitated. Without the Master, we have grown inch-high and inconsequential.
Each night I howl to the moon: Where are you, Master?
Master, under you we were mile-high heroes with noble purpose! Return so we can continue our endeavours and change the world!
Come back, Master! We will be waiting!
Natalie Low
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| Bryan Benge |
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| Bryan Benge |
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| Bryan Benge |
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| Bryan Benge |
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| Bryan Benge |
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