Trivial Pursuit
Exhibition, Installation — Project Room SCCA, Ljubljana — 2023
Dorijan Šiško’s Trivial Pursuit exhibition continues to build a fictional world that moves between a seemingly unencumbered playfulness and an almost occultist gloominess, constantly expanding, layering, assembling and disassembling as necessary. Its dense, opaque topology mimics the logic of cyberspace and is populated by hybrid characters that combine various elements of post-internet aesthetics.
Drawing on popular culture, science fiction and graphic design trends, the works address the relationship between digital and material cultures from a fairly cynical distance, attempting to capture the omnipresent uncertainty of our time. The title itself can be understood as a cry to the void, a trivial attempt to exist and navigate our own lives, constantly invaded by images and content that have long since forgotten their message and merely persist in a cycle of recycling and generating new-old trends. How can one survive and create in a world where tangible reality is dissolving into the hypnotic glow of LED screens, where scrolling paralysis and the ever-present anxiety at the thought of the future is crippling our bodies?
With these feelings of disorientation and powerlessness, we sink into a cavernous underground, where an analogue gizmo – a kind of compass on the floor carpet – navigates us through the exhibition. At all times, it is quite unclear whether the void is our starting point or the abyss that swallows up all images and ideas, with vague concepts written on the edges of the fabric slipping out of our hands just when we thought we had a firm grip on something solid. The layering of grotesque figurines, digital 3D models and pseudo-personal notes with an undertone of prophecy follows the principle of the unregulated chaos of digital space, which offers no final conclusions. All of this takes place under the watchful eye of an artist’s virtual avatar, who does not take on the role of a guide – as one might expect, but merely observes from a wall projection, waiting for our next step, perhaps even amusing himself along the way.
The image of the artist also stares back at us from personalised memes that summarise the different feelings and situations that (cultural) workers face. The gesture, which follows the narrative of the proverbially large artistic ego without a good measure of self-irony, allows Šiško, like his avatar on the wall, to laugh in the face of his and our perspectiveless situation. It is funny because it is real. And we can laugh with him for a moment because laughter, albeit bitter, is still better than weeping in this kind of situation.
Text by Lara Reichmann
