Someday My Prince Will Come | Kyla Gilbert
Sealed off in glass coffins, the fruits are untouchable. The single open face of the box is to the wall. Only Elsewhere can “touch” the fruit. The public can view it, but their hands and breath can’t come in contact with it. I’m interested in what happens when touch isn’t available. Is it possible to substitute physicality for intimacy with a space or oneself? The fruit desires to be freed and touched as much as the viewer desires to bite into the fruit. But as the fruit transforms over time, it may turn from an object of desire to revulsion. I’m interested in this paradox in dialogue with the plastic fruits which remain stable if less vital. The plastic fruit begins as a cheap replica and becomes a relic of what was and no longer is. The piece is an interrogation of transformation through time, the ephemerality of desire and the intimacy of touch, and unrequited longing for intimacy and connection.
