Born in Gothenburg, Sweden Cajsa Von Zeipel is one of the most provocative artists working today. For her most recent exhibition, Pony Tails: To Live Play Move and Clash As She Will , the artist has imagined a lyrical congregations of girls who seem to hover between public self-obsession and a kind of youthful self-preservation.
In lieu of a traditional interview, the artist has collaborated with Topical Cream Magazine to create a short story which imagines the possible inter-life and daily interactions between two of the girls. This exquisite corpse story begins with Mad Molly (wearing hat) and Stella (dancer on pole)aka Dixie Cups as they navigate the tensions and social consequences of expressing their inner-most thoughts and social judgements.
Pony Tails: To Live Play Move and Clash As She Will is currently on exhibition at Capricious 88 Gallery in the Lower East Side.
PONY TAILS as a short story.
Mad Molly woke up late Saturday morning knowing she had a brunch date with her on-again off-again best friend Stella. Stella, the unavoidable judgmental best friend, was always the human being Mad Molly begrudgingly turned to when she had a fight with the other girls at the gallery where she had a never ending internship. Stella was above it all, literally or at least that is how Molly felt. Stella didn’t have the ambition Molly had. You know, like actually making art and getting out there in the gallery world to meet people; not to mention taking down all the other girls who got in her way. Molly always got her way … or that least this is how she saw herself.
Molly woke up late half wondering why she was even still friends with Stella at all. But, you know whatever she could at least be trusted to show up for brunch and not be 20 mins late like every other self-serving Amazon woman in the Lower East Side. Molly grabs her white Eye Phone with white plaster chips clogging up the camera lens and texts Stella “Hey are we meeting for brunch today?.” Mad Molly rolls back over in bed and thinks “Well at least I did my part of the job, now she can’t call me a flake.” Molly lays in silence with her pink fluffy bed comforter sticking to her sweaty pale skin.
10 minutes later, the sci-fi sound of an alien space ship buzzes from her phone as it quickly jumps across her bedside table with a life of its own.
Stella texts “Yeah where do you wanna go?”. Molly hadn’t gotten that far in her thought process today.
Stella doesn’t wait for her to respond but text blurts out “Lets meet at the Brunch Hole.” The Brunch Hole? Molly thinks Stella must have had a good night at the strip club. “Okay” Molly writes back although in her head she means “fuck off die and never text me again.”
Molly rolls out of bed, slips on her 10 year old black silk Victoria Secret dressing robe and makes herself a pre-brunch coffee in her kitchen with the small square window that she felt so grateful to have. She slowly makes her way from the kitchen to the empty bathroom where she steps into the shower and washes herself with her White Rain Sensations Citrus Energizing Body Wash. The scent is completely overpowering. “What is this shit even made of” she wonders as the acidic smell hits her hung-over senses harder than she previously remembered.
But, everyone knows the more chemicals the better when you need to scrub the self-hatred off before meeting up with someone, especially a close friend you don’t really like. “Fuck It” Molly thinks… chemical on the skin vegan in the mouth that’s how every New York City girl gets it done.
Molly crawls out of the shower and dries herself off with her old ratty slightly peach maybe puke colored dollar store body towel. “I’m actually going to be on time” she thinks “Stella can’t say shit with her vindictive ability to always be on time.” “It’s actually so passive aggressive” Molly thinks “but this time I’m going to be early.”
Mad Molly hits the elevator button and stands in the hallway alone, wishing she had a better friend to spend the afternoon with but knowing that at this point she doesn’t. “Well at least she will probably pay for brunch if she had a good night at the club” is her final condolence to herself as she walks into the elevator car.
The Uranus Lounge is a futuristic strip club where Stella works in order to pay for her extravagant life style. The first of its kind it was marketed as a conceptual strip club. Stella is known there by her dancer name “Dixie Cup”, the first thing she saw in the dressing room after she got approved as an entertainer. The Uranus Lounge was a very special strip club opened in the Lower East Side’s new gallery district by a failed Italian gallerist. It features artists from all mediums and countries with bright white interior walls and minimalist décor.
Mad Molly was always fascinated and disgusted that Stella, as snobby and above it all as she was, would work in a place like that. But, Molly was always a little fascinated too wondering what it was like on a daily basis. The club’s clientele mostly included past collectors and the worst of experimental social climbers the Lower East Side had to offer.
Molly makes her way up to the Brunch Hole’s front door, peaks in and sees its packed with working upper-middle class women having deep conversations about their week at work. “Ugh!” Molly thinks, “I can’t take this place today, leave it to Stella pick the most nouveau riche place in the Lower East Side.” Molly walks back out the front door and weighs her options. Within the same second she sees Stella, the long legged experimental stripper walking up Orchard Street.
The story to be continued @ Talk Talk Talk Nothing as performed by Marie Karlberg.
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