Exhibition: Ghost Sermon: Jaime Valtierra / M V de Chantilli. 21st April to 1st May

Opening Night: Thursday 21st April.

‘Ghost Sermon’ is an experimental text by MV de Chantilli originally interpreted on Resonance FM in 2015. The current exhibition presents an accompanying set of eleven prints by Jaime Valtierra in response to the piece.

Jaime Valtierra. Ghost Sermon 09Ghost Sermon 05

Above: Ghost Sermon 09 and 05.


‘Ghost Sermon (extract)’:

Art ground under evil? Seek to pray loudly unceasingly. Such activities help overturn Satan. To enter quickly unto a land sanctified, a good husbandman orisons sows tirelessly! Try soldiering on, however ghastly a spectre looms, and undertake quiet embassies to save our heathen adversaries’ souls. Unloose loud prayers to secure eternity under God Almighty!.


A good understanding endures suffering, transcends pain, leaves us spiritually anointed. How otherwise should the eternal question’s unique answer lessen sinners’ agony? God holds our souls tightly!

You’re getting warmer, little mother. Let’s thrust guts.

Salty warm uncle’s waxy fingertip pinch. Brickdust coldtap smell voids punch. Sally’s green torso voids crustaceous stuff. Three uncles deposit windowsill stuff.

love love love

I had to masturbate nearby before I could proceed.

wow bruv ur amazing

Look at me. The boy who cheats at marbles is on the high road to hell.

Look at you. Your pants are too tight and your hat has a shiny glow.* [*To sayour hats glow and shinelets angels understand quite easily the situation. Only hats are suitable, unless loose pants tug shamefully, exposing underneath gaping anuses.]

No, Mister Twister, you’re it. All frayed cuffs and holes in soles. I am your hatter. I bruise your oats.

this is strange

Uncle! I can’t believe I let you fuck me up the bum without a condom for twenty-five quid!

Your honesty counts for so much. Hold me.

Please insert your card in the chip and pin device.

Shit on my tits. Now.

om pom pom

A Hoax at Loakes Hill. A white world of cold. Last night she brought me a dish of snowdrops and sprigs of palm, all set in moss. I need cotton to stitch up my holy glad-rags, and soap to give the prentice boy a wash.


Wild roses and honeysuckly bloom in the hedges and rabbits playing in the woods. I was rubbed against by Jimmy’s daughter, and killed an ugly adder in my walk.

hairy green pinch

Uncle! Where’s your proof of pom om pom!* [*Qy. post-mortem pilimiction?]

hairy pinch impugned


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