PROJECT SPACE
KAIJERN KOO
GLISTENING WINDOWS THEORY
4 NOVEMBER - 5 DECEMBER 2020

glistening windows theory plays on the academic concept of ‘broken windows theory’, inverting the notion to contemplate the possibility of curating domestic spaces for one’s benefit. Taking aesthetic cues from devotional stained glass windows and lifestyle magazines, Kaijern Koo delves into the world of sympathetic magic (a strain of magical thinking), attempting to harness the residual power of the belongings of celebrities and cultural icons – the fated and exceptional.

Kaijern Koo is an artist who lives and works on Wurundjeri land in Naarm / Melbourne. She graduated from the Victorian College of the Arts in 2019 with a Bachelor of Fine Arts in painting. She has participated in group shows held at BLINDSIDE, George Paton Gallery, Daine Singer, and the Margaret Lawrence Gallery. In 2019 she received the NGV Women’s Association Award.

Ariana Reines on Zoom preaching about The Duino Elegies. Purple orchids in bloom, HOT SAUCE novelty phone case. She’s sitting on the floor. She has the Leishman & Spender translation; I commit it to memory.

The first edition of A Sand Book is tucked within a cover which hosts the title in a glimmering, golden typeface. It beams in a way which the following edition lacks, the latter having adhered to Penguin’s classic matte orange, devoid of all gloss and glitter. The content is unchanged. This is ensured to us by the anonymous hands which leaf through the book, showcasing its innards, all too wary of our skepticism. Ariana posts this on her Instagram: “They say I probably won’t get to touch one of these for months. These hands belong to someone at Penguin,” she tells us (@arianareines, 22 June, 2020). It’s a hushed tip masquerading as a promotion. The second edition is the same, but not really. And if that’s not enough to convince you, the post concludes with two images of a glaring sun, low on the horizon – dare I say it’s golden? We’re right to have been apprehensive. She guides us to the true dwelling of her power.

That power lies in everything she does, as is the way these things go. As I write this, I’m listening to another discussion she hosted: The Palindromic Infinity of Guillaume de Machaut, on the ma fin est mon commencement. “Get your writing instruments out,” she instructs us as she begins to play the recording, and I do. The composition is only a little tinny through the Zoom window. It’s enough. We’re hearing what she’s hearing. Do you feel it? She seems to say, lighting a stick of incense. Yes, yes I feel it. It’s working.

— Kaijern Koo, 2020