The semiautobiographical figures in satirical scenarios in Extension of Doubt feel like the art-world equivalent of quizzes purporting to reveal what magical creature or fictional character you are that many, myself included, have enjoyed over the years. In Scott’s works, these “archetypes” test the viewer’s preconception of what it means to hold yourself together and how this work is often conceived of as body-centric. In Reading Kathy Acker (2019), the twisting of the figure’s jelly-like limbs, as well as the violent red outline that surrounds her, contrast with the ripped-up pieces of text that seem to flock around her like birds, invoking the sensation of feeling torn apart on the inside and the sheer willpower that is sometimes required to prevent our body from following suit. Similarly, Spectre of the Subject (2019) touches on the fact that the mind and body often exist in different states when one experiences overwhelming emotions like fear or anxiety, resulting in out-of-body sensations that we are still often discouraged from showing in public, forcing us to become corporeal ghosts.
Kuruneru’s work occupies the main and upper floor of the gallery, whereas Scott’s is displayed in the basement. The two exhibitions are in dialogue with each other, working in tandem to examine how we think of our corporeal and psychological existence. The dichotomy of elevation and submersion, physically enacted in the visitor’s movements up and down stairs to view Kuruneru’s and Scott’s work, recalls the daily decisions we make in determining which parts of ourselves to make visible to the public and which to bury. While it may initially appear that the physical body is always on display while the mind is hidden, Kuruneru’s and Scott’s exhibitions disrupt this convention by reminding visitors that our identity, our bodies, and even our emotions are assemblages that we constantly add to and rewrite, and that acknowledging that we might not always be as in control of this process as we would like to be is its own act of subversion.
