Liliane tomasko biography template

My father’s family name being Pirrip, and my Christian name Philip, my infant tongue could make of both names nothing longer or more explicit than Pip. So, I called myself Pip, and came to be called Pip.[1]

It’s a long story, so let’s start at the beginning—right here at the Douglas Hyde Gallery in Dublin, where I was invited a few months ago to work on a project for Gallery 2.

I was immediately drawn to the adjacent room to the right, as you face the end wall: a hold-all, a preparation and storage area separated by a door that sits flush within the wall, like an inset. It is present yet not present, unobtrusive.

The storage space is full, as you can imagine. It has within it all the tools necessary for the installation team, who help the artists that exhibit here, all the equipment that makes their ideas come alive. The room holds crates, boxes, tools, tapes, glasses, dishes, an iron, an espresso machine, and many other items useful for setting up the work, and eventually for celebrating the successful completion of a process that can take months to come into being.

I learned that Gallery 2 was itself repurposed from a former and much larger storage and preparation area. It seemed like the obvious thing to transport that which mostly lies in a darkene

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