Performance and installation-based 5-channel audio-visual artwork with multichannel sound; 9:16 LCD displays, analog–digital video & audio equipment, projection, pink textile (singed).
Climate of Violence: Lamentium was performed and exhibited at Outer Space, Fortitude Valley from February 7th - March 15th, 2025. Words by Jessica Carmody.
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first, there is pink can you see it yet?
Gathered are we, the witnesses, to an outpouring of grief. Shoulder to shoulder we watch the summoning of anger — something righteous and long silenced — borne from continuous exclusion and irrevocable loss. We are implored to look upon a facet of the transfeminine experience, to cast our gaze over something true, to glimpse its tangible weight, its heaviness, and its hurt. Amy Sargeant and Arianna Nixon, two trans women, stand before us once again to guide the way. Here is what they’ve shown us: slashes of pink billowing from above, the feminine stripe of the trans flag — an encroaching, armed horde of police, dislodged by a glitch, the breathe of a kiss — and at the centre of it all a partner-ship, a united front, the flood of sound. Even after these women leave our sight the echo of their resistance remains.
then, there is a hum can you hear it yet?
I will not speak for them. Instead, I ask you to listen carefully to what they have already said, to hear what they are continuously expressing, to amplify trans voices when they speak not only of their struggles, but also of their desire and their joy. Lamentum asks us to listen to their defiance, to their anger — the rights of trans people are being violated. Trans people continue to face unprecedented discrimination and legislative attacks. Climate of Violence, as an ongoing collaboration is a grand narrative of trans birth, oppression, & untimely death as an orchestration of fuzz & overstimulation. I borrow the emboldened words from Amy and Arianna. This is what they extend to us.
next, there is an offering can you feel it yet?
To take the hand of someone is to hold them — even if only a little, even if only for a moment. To hold the hands of trans people is to recognise their ongoing battle for liberation, to realise that the fight will be arduous, to understand that it has already been arduous. Reaching back is a sign of tenderness. It is promise of acceptance. It is an act of love. It is a powerful thing to be seen or to be heard, but it is a fearsome thing to be known. Lamentum is an offering of this knowing. Embodied within the hum is a perspective of injustice, of being denied time and time again the right to healthcare, stripped of a voice at the table, a lack of legislative recognition of their existence. For allies, Climate of Violence is a non-verbal exploration into the shoes of trans people. For trans people, it is a catharsis where maybe for a moment, they can feel seen. Amy and Arianna offered these words to me, I offer them now to you in turn, as the most eloquent written portrayal of how to see them, how to hear them, how to know them as best we can.
last, there is a responsibility how will you answer the call
There will come a time when you leave Lamentum. You will blink away the pink. You will fade out the hum. You will let go of the hand. But this is not a retreat. You will not, you must not, turn your back to all that you have witnessed. We have a combined responsibility — we are tasked with magnifying the voices of trans people as they advocate for their right to live and to live well. There is work still to do. There is a promise to be made. That we will continue to look, to hear, to experience, and to learn. That we will join the fray. That we will answer the call. Amongst the anger and vibrations, hope trembles through.