HATHOS

How to describe the peculiar sensation that washes over you when your fingernails graze a concrete surface and a shudder runs down your spine? And how to articulate the pleasurable feeling that emerges when you peel away the crust of a wound or squeeze a pimple? Isn’t it a weird blend of repulsion and satisfaction, a paradoxical mix of discomfort and gratification? The theory that we can achieve happiness by maximizing pleasure and minimizing the unpleasant is both intuitive and popular. But can satisfaction and gratification alone make us feel fulfilled? Or do we want and even need to experience some sort of pushback? Isn’t the discomforting an essential counterpart for pleasure, and would our existence devoid of it descend into a dull, boring, and downright undesirable abyss? Within HATHOS1 Sophie Hirsch takes over the apartment of Vienna Collectors Club, inviting visitors to delve into the giddy thrill of the attraction to something you really can’t stand—the compulsion of revulsion. In her artistic practice, Sophie Hirsch traverses this very sensation. Intricacies of the human form are explored and themes such as pain and the dynamic relationship between equilibrium and flux, strength and vulnerability are addressed. Visitors are immersed in an ambivalent, multifaceted environment—a space that straddles the conditions of a living room, a boardroom, a clinic or even a dark room. The inherent tension within HATHOS—the interplay of discomfort and allure—becomes integral to the narrative, reflected and symbolized through the deliberate use of precarious and fragile materials such as silicone, Thera-bands, and orthopedic elements found within the sculptures and installations. Tinted silicone wall works, encased within stainless steel frames, appear like sinewy forms reminiscent of flesh. The forms within the metal structures are disconcerting, subtly surreal, evoking a sense of discord and blurring the line between tension and release. Resembling an environment with a BDSM-like balance of pleasure and torture, HATHOS probes the boundaries of one’s capacity for expansion and connection; a rally for enlightened navel-gazing, urging the viewers not only towards self-awareness but also towards outbound exploration. The audience is challenged to relax into the discomfort, the macabre, and perhaps even the unsettling; evoking a curious sensation for the underbelly.