ROADSIDE PICNIC. Strugatsky Brothers.
"A picnic. Imagine: a forest, a country road, a meadow. A car pulls off the road into the meadow and unloads young men, bottles, picnic baskets, girls, transistor radios, cameras . . . A fire is lit, tents are pitched, music is played. And in the morning they leave. The animals, birds, and insects that were watching the whole night in horror crawl out of their shelters. And what do they see? An oil spill, a gasoline puddle, old spark plugs and oil filters strewn about . . . Scattered rags, burnt-out bulbs, someone has dropped a monkey wrench. The wheels have tracked mud from some godforsaken swamp . . . and, of course, there are the remains of the campfire, apple cores, candy wrappers, tins, bottles, someone's handkerchief, someone's penknife, old ragged newspapers, coins, wilted flowers from another meadow . . ."

"I get it", said Noonan. "A roadside picnic."

READING ARCHITECTURES AND RE-DOCUMENTING REALITY: How much reality is required to produce fiction.

Inspired by the Strugatsky Brothers, we describe it as a ‘roadside picnic’. How we constantly encounter the debris of other and our own culture and how we live within this debris, accepting it as ’nature’, in the same way as insects and other animals accept our ‘roadside picnic’ debris as their nature, something part of the ‘given landscape that some superior force has supplied’. 

Our intention was to generate a series of works that are addressing this debris. Stockholm is a perfect place for us to do this because, contrary to your own context, to which you became blind, in a way there is no debris but a heightened experience of cultural context that we experience through its physical manifestations.