Deus Sex Machina
A kinetic devotional figure convulses between self-canonizing prayer, erotic display, and the insults of men responding to the artist’s escort advertisement.
how the room
holds the work
A Marian figure assembled from black drapery, an illuminated cross, a transparent reliquary-like torso, and a screen is animated by an active dildo. The device violently throws the mask from side to side while setting a luminous whip in motion across an image of the artist’s buttocks, turning a sexual object into both the engine of the icon and an instrument of repeated punishment. In place of the eyes, the screen plays close-up footage of the artist’s body, replacing reciprocal vision with access to fragmented flesh. The soundtrack brings together “Ave Simona,” a litany through which the artist produces her own sacred image, and recordings of men who called in response to her escort advertisement and insulted her. Their voices attempt to classify and humiliate the same trans-femme body that the litany invokes. Reversing the logic of the theatrical “deus ex machina,” the machine resolves nothing: it keeps the mask convulsing, the whip returning, the body playing, and prayer circulating through transfobic abuse.
voice from inside
first-person residue
“Deus Sex Machina” is a kinetic audiovisual installation constructed as a devotional figure. Black drapery, an illuminated cross, a transparent body, anatomical forms, and a screen create a hybrid of a Marian icon and a technological reliquary. The figure gains presence only when the apparatus is activated: light travels across the fabric, the image begins to move, and the soundtrack fills the space. The dildo drives the work. Its motion throws the mask into an abrupt, repetitive rhythm and sets a luminous whip in motion across the image of my buttocks. A sexual device becomes the engine of the sacred figure, disturbing the stillness and control associated with devotional representation. The same mechanism animates the icon and performs a gesture of punishment against the body displayed within it. Eroticism and violence are held inside one repeated movement, without allowing either to settle into a stable meaning. A screen occupies the place of the eyes and plays close-up footage of my body. The figure offers no reciprocal gaze; where a face might confirm identity, there is a sequence of skin, gesture, and intimate detail. My body circulates through the installation as a recorded image, separated into fragments and made available for viewing. The mask continues to move around the screen, while the person it appears to represent remains distributed across the machine. The soundtrack combines “Ave Simona,” a litany composed around my name, with recordings of men who called in response to my escort advertisement and insulted me. These voices enter the work from opposing positions. The litany stages an act of self-canonization, producing my name through repetition, devotion, and ritual. The callers use language to humiliate, classify, and claim authority over the same trans-femme body. Their aggression reveals the entitlement contained within the expectation of sexual access: the assumption that answering an advertisement grants the right to define the person behind it. Prayer and abuse circulate through the same space…