British artist Helen Marten’s sculptures seems to be a constellation of knick knacks, an un-decipherable pile of everyday objects in a white cube gallery space and called ‘art’ in the hand-out pamphlets, until one realizes that all of them are custom made and brand new. That they have been designed and constructed to look like bric-a-brac says something about the state of society where a blurring of what’s real and what’s fake contributes to the constructs of modern consciousness.
In this world, images appear and disappear, always visceral, never stops and is constantly changing. Sprinkled with graphical text and symbols every now and then, it is a celebration of the monumental and sometimes, frankly, the absurd. Here every object has a copy of itself somewhere either as an image or a cheaper ‘fake’ version or a plastic version that serves another purpose.