Bodies are made of stylised flesh. Styles are nuances of bodies carrying tastes, scents and speeds. A continuous line of forms takes to the expected direction and also leads astray. Each body has the embryo line of its derangement, its drift.
The porcelains of Rachel Kneebone spell a new sexual mereology. The wounds arising from each corner become tomb-white as if anything could not be accidentally the cause of pleasure, pain and desire. Cocks are female torsos, round and full of curves; himself full of caprices and fétiches, the cock itself is a ballerina, resilient and sheepish. They picture in themselves some lines for their fate. The sculptor concocts alliances where wholes become parts – because the curves change the forms. And the wounds deform the objects as they abject the subjects. The sculptures break.