A while ago, scientists discovered sulfur-breathing shrimps existing in total darkness two miles down in the Atlantic. Their long held conviction that oxygen and light are prerequisites to life was proved to be wrong. More recently, photographs revealed the possibility of water on one of the moons of Saturn, an inconceivable idea in the centuries that preceded it.
Do these discoveries make us more significant by virtue of our having made them, or less significant by revealing the scale of our ignorance and false assumptions? More significantly, what is the cost of such so-called knowledge? How much physical suffering and anguish were required for us to establish yet more transitory conclusions? How much more is there to come?
As the camera tumbles on into the reaches of infinity, a shrimp in the darkness decides whether to turn left or right…
Malcolm Mc Neill’s first project out of art school was a seven-year collaboration with writer William S. Burroughs. His two books about the experience were published at the end of last year.
His most recent exhibition of paintings was in August 2013 in New York.