Bill Hayden
café Uranus
May 4 - 31, 2023

Bill Hayden
café Uranus, 2023
Installation view, Galleria Federico Vavassori

Bill Hayden
café Uranus, 2023
Installation view, Galleria Federico Vavassori

Bill Hayden
café Uranus, 2023
Installation view, Galleria Federico Vavassori

Bill Hayden
café Uranus, 2023
Installation view, Galleria Federico Vavassori

Bill Hayden
café Uranus, 2023
Installation view, Galleria Federico Vavassori

Bill Hayden
Boots with Fur, 2022-23
Ink on paper
23.8 x 31.2 cm (unframed); 47.2 x 45.6 cm (framed)

Bill Hayden
café Uranus, 2023
Installation view, Galleria Federico Vavassori

Bill Hayden
Model, 2022
Ink on paper
30.4 x 41 (unframed); 51.6 x 62.2 cm (framed)
"People lived in trees and were eaten by snakes"

Bill Hayden
café Uranus, 2023
Installation view, Galleria Federico Vavassori

Bill Hayden
café Uranus, 2023
Installation view, Galleria Federico Vavassori

Bill Hayden
café Uranus, 2023
Installation view, Galleria Federico Vavassori

Bill Hayden
Na'vi Evolutions, 2023
ink on paper
46.3 x 32.8 cm (unframed); 71.5 x 57 cm (framed)
"Place the spice under your tongue to stop the ear ringing"

Bill Hayden
café Uranus, 2023
Installation view, Galleria Federico Vavassori

Bill Hayden
café Uranus, 2023
Installation view, Galleria Federico Vavassori

Bill Hayden
Structure, 2022-23
Ink on paper
38 x 60.8 cm (unframed); 61.4 x 84.2 cm (framed)

Bill Hayden
café Uranus, 2023
Installation view, Galleria Federico Vavassori

Bill Hayden
café Uranus, 2023
Installation view, Galleria Federico Vavassori

Bill Hayden
Doggie, 2023
Ink on paper
41.9 x 30.5 cm (unframed); 65.3 x 53.9 cm (framed)

Bill Hayden
café Uranus, 2023
Installation view, Galleria Federico Vavassori

Bill Hayden
café Uranus, 2023
Installation view, Galleria Federico Vavassori

Bill Hayden
Room, 2023
Ink on paper
21.6 x 29.8 cm (unframed)
42.2 x 50.4 cm (framed)
"Go out for a cigarette?"

BILL HAYDEN

MAY 4 - 31, 2023

The flight from New York to Europe was an unwelcome reminder that time and possibility are an impossible tangle. Having put that notion behind me, I sit at a cafe; one that I slowly come to understand is designed to suck the savings out of tourists. I permit myself to imagine some future in which burning a plastic table for heat is reality and simultaneously commend my sacrifice of yet another precious opportunity for personal growth to the satisfaction of necessity. In this moment of weakness, a bug flies into my open mouth. It ricochets off the back of my throat causing a choking sensation. I inadvertently swallow it. Gagging at the thought of all the organisms living in the pest’s ass, I rush to the toilet and force myself to vomit in the sink. Composing myself, I discover the soap here is good quality. However, I am sweaty, very sweaty in fact. The sheets are damp.