Chain

Chains, implements of control, have many forms. Designed to decorate, to imprison, to connect, to separate, to constrict, to move, to bear weight, to injure, to protect - the list goes on. Despite being symbolically chichéd, the image of a chain remains sexy, scary, adaptable, and accessible, exemplified by cultural herald Aretha Franklin in her 1968 pop hit 'Chain of Fools.'

With power, elegance and beauty, Franklin interprets Don Covay's song about weakness and desperation, both on the part of the romantic victim and perpetrator. It is a tale of neurosis: behavior no longer in context, illogical desire, perpetual dissatisfaction. But don't we all know the words?

To illustrate the simultaneous absurdity, grace, fragility and strength of obsession, I have linked a seven- foot long chain of my own altered version of the quintessential 'symbolic substitute,' the pacifier. A figure eight- like shape, no oral pleasure can be obtained from this hard ceramic object. Black nipple in the middle, blocked off by double handles -- unattainable, yet plentiful. Dangling right in front of you.

The pursuit or denial of desire, the deep and silly and glittering residue of our primary requirements - minute by minute, year by year, link by link - is not only inevitable. It seems to be the simple shape of survival - whether you're a fool or not.

Stephanie Lanter 2007

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