The x, fluctuating in the word according to our discretion, is the unknown x of our branded identity chosen by Christina Saradopoulou in order to exhibit her diversity within the unit, in which our self seems to be another self.

x is also nexus, wire plexus, letter and circumscription either prohibiting the access or disclosing the exit from the subjugated sanctum of art.

Then, the trace – the stamp, the imprint, the unit – leaves its mark and calls for corporeal contact, a cross entanglement of bodies, changing at the same time into a “Keep aloof” sing.

Another dual pledge of the art: when you touch me you don’t touch me, when you draw your depict, you are stabbed on my skin, you erase me and at the same time you are deleted, sketching your contrariness with indelible ink, elsewhere.

In the unit of Christina Saradopoulou I discern a netting, a wire tissue, a hymen, with dual functions: it conceals and at the same time reveals, coincides and differentiates, but always functioning as a limit to the unspecified, a stance of an orientation adjudicating on nothing, thought dictating:

whoever with wire his life wants to shield
he can neither conserve it, not charge it.

The imprint of my illegibly signed text which introduces, as is usual, the artist, compels to an exit.

That’s my text, sharp as wire, indent to the element that Christina Saradopoulou uses in order to protect herself, shouldn’t be read but coiled around her work, thus hedging the camp in which the artist holds her soul in captivity.

George Veltsos