Responding to Sam Kariotis: 1000 Lizards
- Kannitha Lim

- Aug 23
- 3 min read
By Kannitha Lim
Sam Kariotis: 1000 Lizards
Glimpse Art Space June 28th - July 26th 2023
Looking at this piece I am transported back to
long velvet robes hanging in dusty vestry
cupboards. Studying the display for the right fit
and tying it around me with twisted golden thread
knotted with clumpy tassels.
Light shining through small stain glass windows,
dark shadowy corners. The sacred space where
packets of crisp round wafers hide in boxes aside
the bottles of red wine soon to give off a pungent
metallic smell as liquid hits brass goblet.
Sometimes poured before hand if the wine stores
are low. The cup sits like an old man with a
delicate handkerchief on its head having a
preservice snooze. My little fingers poke and prod
each wafer as I arrange them on the metal plate. I
imagine vast medieval banquets would serve such
plates where ladies wore veils under shinny brass
headbands. I wonder if I put the plate atop my
head and the white muslin over that would it feel
similar? I better not. When there are no wafers we
use bread, crusty and round. I wonder if the loafs
from the bakery would have the same affect,
sliced or whole?
Smoke and vestments. The little ball cage holds
the incense. When lit I see the little dragon’seye
burning bright as smoke billows from the caves
within. Now looking back I wonder if we were all
exposed to second hand smoke like the cigarettes
in Sam Kariotis’ latest digital collage, 1000 Lizards,
currently on display at Glimpse Art Space.
In 1000 Lizards we enter a conversation between
four beings floating among the cosmos. Three
human beings share this conversation without any
real connection as indicated by the absence of eye
contact as evident by revealing their line of sight
with laser like clarity. The figure in the bottom
right foreground brakes bread in a gesture of
communion. His check is marked by digits, 333. If
the devil is known by the digits 666, we can
presume this figure holds half of that evil possibly
showing all humans hold both good and evil so
thereby dividing the total in half or showing this
human may not be pure evil but certainly not
innocent leading to an agenda of deception and
manipulation. In the centre we find a curios being,
half goat, half octopus, whose tentacles reach out
to the various humans and a portal like rectangle
tethered to one with a thick green chain. Eight
cigarettes are perched atop the portal.
It is as if Goat-opus has entered a world were
there is no real connection. Does he stay to help
connect these humans thus leading to an anxiety
driven chain-smoking habit wearing an expression
of startled horror or does he slip back through the
portal which appears to be a much more peaceful
environment to exist in.
If the portal represents an afterlife thus tethering
man to the religious affiliations of the bread
breaking human. Is it indeed a place or a notion
held by the man chained to it. Otherwise is it a
portal allowing Goat-opus access to this reality, to
enter and exit at whim. Perhaps a mediative state
to periodically escape too. Or is it a more finite
exit? Evoking the question is this portal a
representation of death, loss or suicide? What is a
Goat-opus to do?





