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Conceived as a series of ongoing episodes, the work gives an account of MKMAEL’s short- and long-term online relationships.For the exhibition in Salzburg, Khaled produced An Image Passionate, a book inspired by the Egyptian chick-lit series Abeer.Like many visionary entrepreneurs, Kremen doesn’t have very good management skills.His life has passed through periods of grave disarray.For only lies and illusions can make the violence of social relationships bearable.To be tolerable, human existence requires a modicum of myths, illusions, and lies.To give a bit of context: after matching on Tinder, J. I can’t get that Just one thing out of my mind, though. A virtual land made of straightforward profile descriptions and rigorous information about its inhabitants’ looks (height, weight, body type), where semi-scripted conversations proliferate (A: Hey. ” A few contemporary artists would seem to be asking themselves the same question.
After I finished, I moved to the couch in the empty living room and sat under the flat overhead light refreshing feeds on my laptop. As the only man and the only woman alone at the bar, we looked at each other. He handed me his mobile and pointed to a Facebook post. When I moved in, the receipt for the blanket was on the mantelpiece. At night the room had the temperature and pallor of a corpse. I returned to my mobile and opened OK Cupid, the free internet dating service. ‘Tattoos are a big part of my friends’ and family’s life,’ he wrote. An interaction made of silent words, put together through the keyboard of a smartphone.In MKMAEL, a project that Khaled first presented at the Kunstverein Salzburg in 2007, the artist impersonates a partly fictional character called after the nickname he generally uses for his online chats on gay dating websites. Typed sentences marked the beginning and the end of J’s and my “relationship”. The online dating mania (by which I am affected) stems from a paradox: the actual body—the core of emotional and sexual attraction—is, at least at a first stage, only evoked by a bunch of readymade images arranged alongside outspoken measurements. No voice involved—just the click of fingers and thumbs on the screen. In this apparently cold, hyper-functional world, is there any room for romance?