april exhibition. the tragic magic guitar
exhibit a: the magic guitar was found in the back room of an apartment in a suburb of Riga
exhibit b: it has a Russian provenance: no brand name: guitarists like to talk about Gibsons and Gretschs, Martins and Washburns and what have you, but i don’t care for any of that at all. This is a magic guitar built for a manic guy who can’t quite play guitar and therefore is perfect for me. Three chords and a tuner and let see where we go, magic Latvian guitar
exhibit c: the guitar was in a bad state of disrepair so i took it to a famed French guitar restorer in Denmark Street. She spat on the thing in disgust and told me it was the worst piece of shit she had ever laid hands on but for a price she would take it on. She crafted magic but in the process she cut both wrists from the pure whiplash of unleashing the strings, her blood remains on the guitar to this day.
exhibit d: the magic guitar has fallen into disrepair again. It was deconstructed for a sound art project. I was going to burn it in a ceremonial manner at a noise arts festival on the south coast of England but lockdown ensured the festival was cancelled. I am relieved. I love the magic guitar and it is soon going back to Denmark Street, to chance it’s luck with another restorer.