Super Daz

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An antique box of Daz washing powder which I bought at a flea market in a remote Luxembourg village

Where and how is it used?

It should have been used by someone in a previous decade, but for some reason it failed to sell. Now it is a relic of that time, all the more absurd because of the banality of its function. Now it is used as a connection to another time; an authentic artefact that connects me to what once was. I store it in the cupboard under the sink, but I will never use it.

What did you or someone else pay for it?

About one euro

Why do you want to add it to the museum?

The powder promises renewal. It is Super Daz, boasting new flecks of blue. The specks are what make it 'super' Daz instead of just normal Daz, like glitter bits in a crystal ball or snow globe, as though added meticulously with tweezers so that they remain equidistant. Suspended in time - a psychological signpost signifying potency and mystery- azure punctuation marks in an existential, minimalist dust; grainy and marine, like an alloy of beach and ocean. It's as if the waves all dried up and everything crystallised, or little fragments have been shaved off all the objects in the world that are blue, and added to the milky marble rubble (offcuts made by a renaissance sculptor's chisel?) without anyone noticing. White noise. Blue noise. Static.

And it had been...static, in some Luxemburger stock room waiting to be used or purchased. Market value plummeting initially because the free prize draw had expired. But now its worth increases - nostalgic and futuristic, its aesthetic is from another time and it is exotic because it's speaking French and German to me, like a holiday romance with a bad poet whose clich├ęs are masked by my lack of comprehension. I value it because it is other, it is distant from me, and yet it feels so familiar, so everyday- as if we'd always been this close. Infinitely proximate (it wants to get inside my synthetic skin - a Primark jumper - and cleanse it of its sins, its woes) but also impossibly distant (foreign in place and time, plucked from the flow of capital, it sits next to my Mister Muscle like a trendy grandad who, for a moment, looks 'with-it' in his first-time round retro shell suit). Spin cycle. Repeat. Daz, a name which resembles 'day' (in English and German), or dada, or comic book onomatopoeia signifying a dramatic moment of superheroic action - all of this disguised within a mundane, repetitive material that promises to maintain the status quo by reversing the dreary quotidian entropy of my dirty laundry, pretending that it never happened. A mercenary conspirator mopping up the spillages of time. A death denier. An analogue 'undo' button. Super Daz promises to turn back time. We add it to the washing machine, spin it in this peculiar white clock. Drum roll. This material will never age.


How was it made?

Is made in a factory

Is farmed

Is mass-produced

Is produced by local cottage industry

Is made to particular specifications

Is craft / hand-made

Is foraged

Is found

Is colonised

Is a service


Materials & Making

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What is it made from?

Buying & Owning

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How did this thing arrive from where it was made to where you got it?

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How and by whom is it cared for?

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How long will it last?

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Where will it go when it's finished with?

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What is it worth?

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Wow that is poetic! Evil is no longer banal to me. Thank you Louise Ashcroft.
(tI's not German though)

by scharfrichter on April 28th at 10:01am

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