30,000 years of cryptomnesia

Exhibition: Saturday 8th November - Saturday 29th November12-6pm, Mon-Sat Private View: Friday 7th November 7.30pm Sophie Carapetian Andy Healy Victor Jakeman Joseph Lewis Patrick Moran Screenings + Events Friday 14th November: CryptoKino 7.30pm - £7/£5 members/concessions Film Program in two parts: Assortment of obscure b-film trailers Interplanetary Revolution, N Khodataev, (1924), 7:49 mins Le train en marche (the train rolls on), Chris Marker, (1971), 32:49 mins 2084, Chris Marker, 1984, (9:45) mins interval Assortment of obscure b-film trailers Music Television from Rhodesia ( 20 mins) Excerpt from - Häxan, Benjamin Christensen, (1922) (aprox 50 mins) Wednesday 19th November: Cryptomnesia Symposium The artists discuss the source material for their work in an open forum. No pre-booking required. 7.30pm - FREE Friday 28th November: Rough Music Joseph Lewis will play the ancient "anglo-celtic zither instrument", the Spiritcatcher. Black metal band Whitby Bay comprised of Victor Jakeman and Patrick Moran will also perform. 7.30pm - FREE 30,000 Years of Cryptomnesia is a collaboration between 5 young artists that work together to create immersive environments - structures that act as a medium within which they display their work; beautifully crafted prints, instruments, costumes, manifestos, films and objects, mythological commodities, time bandit vessels, folky, pagan, black metal artefacts. Exotic and earth-like. Come on in, dear viewer, to where the exhibition is the best part of our day. Normal people, people who walk the street, cannot understand this exhibition. Because, when this exhibition swells; there's not going to be room for anyone else but you, dear viewer, flowing with the power of the exhibition. Load the spaceship with rocket fuel, load the spaceship with the exhibition, because the spaceship is full of juice to carry it as far as it wants to go. It starts low in the tip of your toes, in the very foundation of the maniacs. It's like euphoria. It's like a feeling, a power surge that an exhibition's never felt before. It pumps the life through the blood veins, through the delts all the way up through the neck, into the brain. A feeling that the exhibition will be reborn in the world as the strongest force in the universe. There's only going to be one that survives. How would you feel, if your exhibition was forced by my exhibition to let another exhibition slap it in the face? How would it feel? The family that I live for only breathes the air that smells of combat. You run a pawn shop and I sell valuable collectibles. I look above the Gods, but, when they fall below the skeletons of the exhibitions past -should I jump from the highest building? Should I lay down and let the lawnmowers roll over me? Should I go to the exhibition and be troubled by it? You've been injected with the minimum dosage of poison of the power of the exhibition. Explode off the launching pad. You're right; you don't know where the exhibition's coming from. You don't know anything about the exhibition; because it's mind-boggling to you.