Eos Brüggen (1996, she/they) is a visual artist investigating the space between visual arts and theatre. She studied Fine Art at Goldsmiths University in London, where she graduated with a first class honours, with a dissertation on her favourite soft toy and object oriented onthology, and with her final degree show titled Here: at the beginning, and at the end. She also studied to become an Ayurvedic practitioner in Amsterdam, where she is currently based. Over the last year she has completed a course in historical corset making, and a orientation course in Mime. Eos believes technical craftsmanship and a new sense of beauty in the arts are important tools for shaping the future. She likes to work with diverse diciplines and materials such as textile, soundscapes, and the human body. Often her work is collaborative and multi-diciplinary. Together with software designers, musicians, perfumists, theatremakers, movement artists and filmmakers, disciplines are intricately woven together into her work. Her first solo exhibition will be in Novemer, at Factor IJ, in Amsterdam.
Textile, sound -and lightinstallation, scentscape, the human body
In a multi-sensory experience, the audience inhabits a textile and tactile forest. Humans, trees, moss, and mushrooms are interconnected via an audio -and light installation that lies beneath their feet like a mycellial network.
Visitors are invited into a white gallery-like space by a mushroom character. The mushroom instructs you to take off your shoes, and pop on a pair of mushroom shoes. By putting on these shoes, you become a material in the installation, a part of the forest. Now, the mushroom draws the curtain open, inviting you into the forest, and says: "I will be here for you, at the beginning, and at the end.” When you step through the curtain, the space behind is initially pitch black, and you are dependent on your sense of touch to find your way. Maybe you already notice the smell of a damp forest floor, or of a fallen tree decomposing, or instead that of a breath of fresh air. As you carefully continue moving forward, the space lights up, revealing the mossy tufted rug on the floor, and the quilted trees that surround you. Low drones and chittering animals sound through the forest. As you wonder, tip-toe, dance or crawl through, the forest responds to you: under the rug are hidden pressure sensors, that when found cause the sound and light to change. Similar to the world of fungi, this space offers itself as an in-between. By bringing opposing magical elements together (happiness and grief, playfulness and solemnity, rooting and rising), the potion starts to fizz.