Unidentified installation through window, near Barbican, 2007
The Nu-Rave Vagrant
A strange and distant glow. Clad in neon, and drunk, The Nu-Rave Vagrant meets night air. Shoreditch reels. When do the parties end?
Always the last to leave, The DJ curls a lip and spits at the sky. Through his two chemical eyes the clouds above form veils for the stars, which dance and play and swirl on an incandescent, fractured, fictional backdrop of technicolour and disappointment.
The Dancing Girl sits alone on the curb while her friends talk or argue or chatter or gossip or yell or plot or distract themselves on the pavement. She hugs her knees to her chest in the chill, thinly covered in black and white, clutching a bright pink novelty wig in her left hand. She glances up at the neon man through glitter and tears.
The Nu-Rave Vagrant smiles around a corner and dreams of thunder and lightning. Shoreditch reels again.
© Matthew Sheret, 2008
