Brendan Fowler

The most mysterious thing about music is its ability to generate life, space and movement out of nothing. Conversely, once it is over it is gone forever and cannot be recaptured. However, reproduction techniques developed over the past century have made music endlessly repeatable. Today music’s ephemerality is trapped by the technical possibility of being replayed over and over again; it has perhaps lost its singularity.

Nonetheless, real music still has the ability to mark time, to freeze, to solidify. This is what Brendan Fowler attempts to achieve in his crash pieces. As an artist and musician at the same time, Fowler travels a lot around the world. It is during these travels that he collects memorabilia and takes photographs, which he then assembles back home into one work of art, like a kaleidoscope of impressions or a musical improvisation. Fowler’s visions collide and intersect in search of a new, contemporary beauty that connects with his music. Just as suddenly and unexpectedly, time stands still in his crash pieces, only the title can give an indication of when the image was originally taken. The destructive collision of elements coincides with the meditative power of the image.