‘Children,’ said cosmologist Carl Sagan, ‘ask all the right questions. Why is the sky blue? How do birds fly? But pretty soon the schools, the institutions, knock it out of them and they become good, solid members of society. But some people keep asking those questions. And these people end up becoming scientists; or even poets.’
Glenn Adenforff is one such poet. Whether it is through his jewellery, his imagery, his music, his cinematography; or even his poetry, he is always asking the right questions. The hard, heavy, numinous ones that make people uncomfortable because the answers, if there are indeed any, are elusive, chimeric creatures that can never be caught and pinned to the wall.
Glenn’s work is like life itself once all the existential expediency has been stripped away: exhilirating, terrifying, exasperating, breathtaking, confusing, funny, strange, sad and ecstatic. Two mirrors opposed create an infinite regression by which one is hypnotised not by the prospect of reaching a non-existent end point but by tumbling vertiginously through the endless abyss.
Captain Ahab was never really in pursuit of a great white whale but something deep within himself that stirred and squirmed and demanded expiation. It is through the cathartic crucible of art that Glenn is tirelessly striving to understand something that cannot be understood. And therein lies the beauty of his art: life, after all, is not a problem to be solved but a mystery to be lived.
The richly complex tapestry of Glenn’s creativity tells the story of an artist comprised of myriad facets and a multitude of dimensions. The visceral blur of stream-of-consciousness images and sounds that comprises his film and music is pure punk DIY experimentalism while the exquisite craftsmanship of his singular jewellery creations reflects a relentless devotion to detail.