Rodney Sanches
Intersect
Sexual Bondage, The Automobile And Breeds Of Humans In The Days Of Petroleum
A foam chair, bolted to a deck, attached to a system of propulsion wrapped in metal, plastic and glass. The people in the car stare at the faint light of gauges, a rushing landscape; they pull and shove at levers and spin a wheel. They go, sitting still. Tied down tight.
This machine, when it began, replaced horses dragging painful booths. Now it is something else. A container for sexual and social fantasy, a conduit to power, a narrative of desire, translocation and regression.
As the machines spin in parking lots, intertwine at intersections, they perform sadomasochistic dances of flashing metal and taut rubber. The individuals inside these shells are the entrails of a old creature from the centre of our thoughts.