Nose to Flees
Mat Do, Nicholas Riis, Artun Alaska Arasli & Evita Vasiļjeva

19.08.2017 – 03.09.2017

Exhibition view Mat Do, Nicholas Riis, Artun Alaska Arasli & Evita Vasiļjeva, Nose to Flees (2017) at Rib. Photo: Lotte Stekelenburg

From 25 July to 3 September 2017, Mat Do and Nicholas Riis, with fellow artists Artun Alaska Arasli and Evita Vasiljeva will transform Rib into a platform for conversation, experimentation and display.

The inaugural summer lab shall be a simple collective venture, into moments of mutual interest and curiosity; where materiality, the everyday and surface are all on repeat. These themes, and others, shall be reconsidered through a temporary lens — the building that constitutes Rib and its original commercial providence; that of a perfumery and subsequent butcheries, supplying them with a rhizomatic framework to reflect and respond through. Here the imbued vernaculars of perfume; smell, distillation, diffusion and meat; cultivation, process, consumption, imitation will be their palette.

Untitled (Text for Nose to Flees)
Is it a coincidence that a solarium opens like an oyster, falls like a head falling asleep1? A headache was gathering like the weather, ironic because its cause was dehydration. Always first heat then heat-sick. The air was collapsing but there was nowhere to hide, because the orchard was genetically modified and the trees were felled but a shadow fell on your head and broke it in two anyway. A butcher is someone generally male, cutting muscles with muscles of his own, owns a walk-in freezer and nothing else. One look at him and I knew he could never be one. Do you know that I said,”Ur the ugliest motherfucker ive ever seen”, and he said, “I’m missing chromosomes”, and I felt too ashamed to sleep that night and when I did, I had a congenital disease dream, and I was snowed in upon waking? Good times… In 2013, some Canadians thought their money smelled like maple syrup. Some kids used to sell scratch and sniff cards on the side of the road to the orchard. A variety: “Tonsil Stones”, gross, “Polio”, ugh, no, “Humpty Dumpty Egg Yolk After a Day in the Sun”, oddly specific but OK. Here, “Italy Avalanche”. Sounds like a drugstore perfume. Like us, an avalanche has nowhere else to go, how romantic. Bury me bury me bury me. Your hair the shavings of a scented eraser, a rubbing that effaces signs but produces odor, a life-long campaign. In the kitchen of a roadside diner people are washing ashtrays for minimum wage. Me, I’m understated. Did you seriously not know you had a dimple?, and she’s livid, because how can anyone not know they have a dimple? Change of topic: we eat muscles to maintain muscles. This is like some stupid meme, I hate this. When the snow cleared I ventured into the supermarkets. I was walking back when I saw the stitched arm on a man. Say he’s the Stitched Arm Man. Collagen Man. Asshole. Later that day I was sitting in the garden drinking energy drinks, looking up stuff. What the fuck is powdered peanut butter? Healthy people are insane. What gives? The neighbour brought me a cucumber from the vegetable garden. I love her little nose, I ate the cucumber. Better she said, much better. In the mornings, I could hear her singing a song too long in the shower. Her southern lisp is eating at my little heart, bless it. A shark attack, she said, that her husband is a victim of. His biceps is gone, replaced by one of his two calves, or some his one calf. He limps. “That’s how the shark week turns into the shark month”, I said. Silence. Lack of a biceps has implications beyond social stigma, duh. You can’t pull her closer. Perhaps I can volunteer. I don’t have the money. I’m missing teeth. But yes, of course I want your cucumber. Everyone’s flying towards the sun hastily. Me, I’m patient. Lattisimus dorsi is literally a big back. Latin is so lame. Together with your big back you could pull yourself on a wall, out of water, into a boat, if there is a boat. The clouds are now retracting, like a hunchback walking backwards. In slow motion. When you’re on the wall you could sit on a wall next to the egg. Have a chat with him. Ça va bien Monsieur Dumtpy? Pass on what you’ve learned. It’s not just an egg, it’s the egg that jolts forward to meet the seed of life, etc. A tumor is practically an egg that can’t or won’t hatch. I’ve read that in “Letters to a Young Egg”. And ever since I’ve been waiting to present myself, like the guru who fed his body to the tigers, here I am! your family’s favorite cuckold. I don’t need my arms to kill you. You throw a punch with your core, silly. I scratched and sniffed your rotting shoulder. I kind of liked it. This keyboard is disgusting. You are testy as hell. I love your little nose but I hate your smell. I passed you by in the cafe you work at, you were reading a book about modern love. Later I looked it up like I look up stuff and so modern it was not. Later I looked it up.
—Artun Alaska Arasli

Nose to flee ME2 Nose to flee ME2
Evita Vasiįjeva, 1, 2, 3, 4 in the Mirror, 2017; Mat Do, Stoffen, 2017
Nose to flee MA1 Nose to flee MA1
Mat Do, Sandro, 2017
Nose to flee 5 N Nose to flee 5 N
Nicholas Riis, Rattling 6000, 2017
Nose to flee 6 N Nose to flee 6 N
Nicholas Riis, Rattling 4000, 2017; Rattling 6000, 2017
Nose to flee MA4 Nose to flee MA4
Artun Alaska Arasli, Tet-Fatt Chia 1 & 2, 2017; Mat Do, Croffnut, 2017
Nose to flee E3 Nose to flee E3
Evita Vasiįjeva, Hormones, 2017
  • 1It being coital times for us both, opens wide like your legs, why not?

19.08.2017, 18:00–21:00


02.09.2017, 18:00–21:00

During the exhibition time the space will be open from Friday to Sunday, 12:00–17:00 and by appointment only.

Throughout the working portion of the lab (26.07.–16.08.2017), when frequenting the space, the artists will operate an open-door policy and encourage members of the public to visit.

Mat Do (1982, UK) lives and works in Rotterdam. He is a graduate of the Piet Zwart Institute (Rotterdam) MFA programme 2016. Recent exhibitions and projects include: Peach/The Life Intense, W139 (Amsterdam); Assemble Relatives, mama/TENT/ramfoundation (Rotterdam); Uproot Rotterdam; public sculpture residency (Museumpark Rotterdam); Here, Glasgow International (SCT/UK); and Sender Sumpf, Künstlerhäuser (Worpswede/DE). Since 2003 he has worked with institutions and organisations including Vote Art; Grizedale Arts, Cumbria; Wysing Arts, Cambridge; and Tate Britain, London (all UK).

Nicholas Riis
(1987, DK/NO) lives and works in Amsterdam. He is a graduate of the Gerrit Rietveld Academie (Amsterdam) Fine Art BA programme 2013, and is a recent graduate of the Piet Zwart Institute (Rotterdam) MFA programme 2017. Recent exhibitions include The works don’t gel, Juliette Jongma 2017 (Amsterdam); My, My, A Body Does Get Around at Wilfried Lentz (Rotterdam); Exhibition at Plato (Ostrava/CZ); Lo and behold, hosted by Juliette Jongma at Manifesta 2015 (Amsterdam); and Vrom Ee toe Bie toe Zie toe Die, P/////AKT (Amsterdam) and kim? (Riga/LV) in collaboration with the artist collective NF.

Artun Alaska Arasli (1987, TR) lives and works in Amsterdam. Recent exhibitions and performances include Warming Up, Rozenstraat (Amsterdam), The Beauty Commission, Stedelijk Museum (Amsterdam); Hospice, Wilfried Lentz (Rotterdam) and Markus Luttgen (Cologne/DE); and Metal Fatigue, The Tip (Frankfurt am Main/DE).

Evita Vasiļjeva
(1985, Riga/LV) lives and works in Amsterdam. In 2016, she completed the 2-year residency programme at De Ateliers, Amsterdam. Selected exhibitions and performances include Manhours in Headquarters, P/////AKT, Amsterdam (2017); YOUNG POPES, Latvian Institute Rome, Italy (2017); Feed Your Friends, Odd, Bucharest (2017); Over Hang, W139, Amsterdam (2017); Printhouse on the Gut Level, kim? Contemporary Art Centre, Riga, Latvia (2016); and Based on a True Story, Kafana Box Office, Amsterdam (2012) in collaboration with Frederique Pissuise.