Italian Trulli
Italian Trulli

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An homage, to my dear, my love, my child and twin. H. H. (short for hologram) is the name given to my work, just to make it easier to write to them. Through the practice of epistolary (letter writing) to and from the work, Eleonora Johanna hopes to get closer to them. Envisioning them as a independent entity, that already existed before being created by her. A symbiotic love relationship or correspondence, as Tim Ingold so beautifully called it, between the artist and her work, grown sour into a parasitic growth. H. is a strange creature, a queer object that exists simultaneously in the artist and her work. H. represents love, a cancerous blob of cells begging to invade and take over. The thin border line between love and obsession. The performance is a full, almost theatrical, homage to H. Letters are read as a low pulsing soundtrack. Pillows are caressed and taken care of, at the same time a feeling of violation creeps up on you. Using the body as a template. A flag hangs, as a relic, draped, carrying the words of a long lost, sad love song.

Performers: Ewan, Maaike, Eleonora


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A performance. If the body could be in a symbiotic relationship, a dance with commodities, what would that look like? Reducing oneself to an object, an inanimate being could be the key. Tiles as blown up pixels of ones own body, baked until fixed in time, forming a random pattern on the floor. A body taken apart into little pieces, spread. Waiting to be touched, to be activated into motion. To be lifted form their objectivity into subject-hood. The performance s a dance between an object and a subject. Both playing an equally important role, blurring the lines once drawn to separate them.

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How far can we pull the translation of a self-portrait into abstraction? Is this the way to truly and deeply get closer to the object in question? To get closer to the work of art? Arthur Danto once explained the importance of the mirror image in contemporary art. The mirror image does not, as may be expected represent an exact replica of reality, but more a simulacrum, an alternate reality of what could be. Art needs to be this mirror image to enable us to take a peak into this other universe. In Compulsory Shenanigans Eleonora Johanna tries to get closer to this mirror image by creating, in a collage like manner with found objects, self-portraits. These self-portraits symbolize small aspects and gestures that are part of her human being. By doing so giving them the embodiment of the human body. Hoping to erase the hierarchical relationship between subject-hood and object-hood. By using found objects she hopes to trigger recognition, enabling to look at the work from a familiar point of view. At the same time alienating.










A video work about my family, the intimate conversation and contact that seem mundane, turn into intricate correspondence.

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Geo-mapping. If you could embody any matter or object when you were a young teenager, what would you be? For Eleonora Johanna that always was and still is a huge rock. Growing up in a small village, going to the same school, having somewhat the same group of friends and the same upbringing, she is puzzled by how she and her sister turned out as two completely different human beings. She used the metaphor of the garden and the rock as her sister and herself. The garden as an artificial natural landscape, sculpted by human hands, behaving. The rock, an unwanted, unyielding, visitor in the garden, never behaving or doing as being told. The video shows this rock, being part of the landscape of Boxmeer, but not quite. As they are pasted on top of it using photoshop. Elements of artificial nature and the map of ones own past of living in this village (Boxmeer), where everyone does what’s expected of them.


As an artist I’m constantly looking for meaning or some sort of life in the word around me. Not so much the animate world of other humans and animate beings like animals, but the world of the object, the world of the inanimate non-humans whom we share our lives with. Because how can it be that we value the intricate conversations and relations with our fellow humans so much more, than we value the intimate bond we have with our commodities, with whom (at least in my live) we seem to be spending a lot more time with. And who may even contribute to our most intimate relationships and gestures. I see this as a disturbing side effect of our idea of exceptional-ism as a subject. The overruling subject, without whom the world won’t be perceivable, but why can’t these inanimate and animate non-humans be in their existence without a human subject involved. I’m a believer of correspondence instead of hierarchical perception and creation. So as an artist and creator, I don’t look my work as being some sort of wonder child that solely exists because of me, but as something that already existed before me, I’m merely a mean to give them a bodily form. Therefore I don’t create them, but we are created together, in constant symbiosis with one another. As Tim Ingold calls this the correspondence of lives, or as I like to see it the correspondence of lives and non-lives.

My work therefore is just as much alive as I am. By creating performances and objects which generate a caring motion of a feeling of care, I hope to get closer to them. The past few years I’ve been starting a practice of epistolary, which can be described a practice of writing novels by writing letters. Writing the letters to my work, whom I’ve called H. after Hologram, I hope to get closer to them. I can’t get you out of my head. This feeling of restlessness of not belonging of not knowing what you are about. I have to make you mine. Make you a part of me in order to understand. To fully comprehend your emotions your feelings. Leave everything behind in this godforsaken humanness. Feeling trapped, feeling anxious. How do you leave? How do you rise above? How do you let go? Is it really about letting go, or more about reuniting. The two things we once were. No more you and I. Just Us.

Jean Baudrillard tells us that by creating a clone, a simulacrum of the reality of the subject. An exact copy, the realness of the subjects will cease to exist. We are no longer the subject and object. But mere objects. Gray mass, the other, the clone, queer, otherness.

Do selfportraits have to be realistic, an exact replica or trying to be one in order to really be a selfportrait? Does this clone really has to be a biological clone in order to take away the subjectivity from it’s chosen subject? We think not. Selfportraits also depict a deeper feeling of emotion and of being, one we cannot grasp. This otherness, this queerness within us. Hence, are objects so to speak queer? What makes this object queer? And How do we look at this queerness within ourself? Is it a movement quality? Speaking of a leaf that’s been taken by the wind? That is blown back and forth. Can the body of the, so to speak, objectified subject contain the same movement quality. We want to find this otherness. We want to become one. Reality becomes vague. If my reality is yours than yours is mine and they cease to exist. The subject doesn’t become object but something else so does the object. They create a new kind of reality, a new space of otherness.