Tour of the Exhibition:

Entering Under and Over and In and Out 

Collaborative Exhibition between Sofia Hallstrom and Eleanor Beale, four speakers, sound piece, performance, laser cut roman column, sails, film. November 2019, Fire Station, Lauriston Place.

This work depicted the occupant of world a caught between reality and memory - a Dionysian den/enclosure formed from an impossible landscape.

To depict the creature I created a cave like club installation which housed an ear-splitting soundscape and a creature, who crawled from outside of the cave to perform abstract poems carved from memory.


Clubs are modern day versions of Dionysian carnival home to communal feeling. They provide spaces where feelings are released, therefore controlled.

Emotions can become phantoms that haunt us so to gain a form of control, I attempted to subvert this by embodying a phantom creature and voicing anxieties, reflecting on the crossing where fantasy tentacles into reality.


A play on the column of Dionysus, Greek God of wine, was signified by faces dripping down its sides. It formed the central point around which visitors could drink red wine, socialise and listen to the soundtrack of the occupants of the space. Activation is key in my work, thus the audience removed their shoes to walk across a carpeted floor speckled with mounds of soil.


I wanted to convey an audible lament of the modern day and house the audience within a club like cave in order to experience it. The continuous lines of poems were meant to mirror the combination of past (Dionysian) and present (the modern day club culture) setting, by breaching the same divide within the continuous lines of poems, by bringing memories of the past to the present.


The impossibility of this landscape as a liminal space, outside the thresholds of time, I attempted to represent by encouraging viewers to remove their shoes (a form of activating the space, too) and walk across a carpeted floor littered with mounds of dirt. 

In here you will find a fountain of thought from the gurgling belly .. your labyrinth past, present and after Phantoms who don't face death anymore like everyone else and the tone is strange (But death wears a slippery mask - don't get caught!)

Settle in the muck of your mind
An all consuming but fading call from younger days is cooing there
the days move their measure, ruled without markings and leave you in cloudy waters.
You can’t shape, hear, or properly form them.
Although flecks of warmth flicker around and tickle your inner skin
Don’t mistake that they are all brittle though
Bendable, twistable, deformable but their slow disappearance can leave a strong tang in your mouth... they don’t want to go quietly 

sometimes they have to though, sent back away
These forgettings weave and sculpt your sadness, because to bring them back full is beyond your reach
cling onto the warm ones instead
I live here, please try to wrap and embalm me and prolong my time
parting casts a cloud that would replace me
Your memory is big, wide and untidy
So when i am blurry, warm me up so you can put balm on your sores 


Water pours when its warm outside and seeps through every bit fingernails , toes, table tops armchairs, the hairs on ur tummy and fills up the room to the tip ceiling and then i swim , when does floating around in it become drowning. the ruptured and slightly worse twin is desire and need, a wrong reflection, i miss them all i’ve been walking through the wrong door but the label on it said self directed route.