Apple

"The sound of the sea, or the sound of feeling the sea. The witch offered her poisoned apple on a huge platter. The knives were small, the apple huge. The house was crooked, the front facing a magnificent sea. It drew everyone there. Pass through the large door, a tandoor in the kitchen. Here she cooks, turning the children into hybrids. She establishes her own system of punishment here. It is an order. The witch has established her own justice. The huge apple, the tiny knife... The children's task is to cut this apple. If they cannot cut it, they need a bigger knife. There it is, in the oven. The moment they enter the oven, the children start to burn. As they burn, they transform; their heads become wolves, their bodies human, their legs pigs, birds... They emerge from there in different bodies. They understand the language and condition of all bodies. Each body's needs are completely different. Alongside the human's, everyone else's troubles are just as great. On the witch's farm, everyone is a hybrid, everyone lives as long as their body allows, does the job they want. Whether this is punishment or reward remains unknown for a while. The moment it becomes a reward, the spell is broken. Just when everything is going well, the children turn back into humans. Now they understand that it's not about the apple, it's about being enough. It's about being able to say, “My body is not capable of cutting this apple.” B. Durhan

​

​

​39x250x2 cm, tea, beetroot, basil, wild plum and wild apple juices, gelatin and glycerine