The Blackheart Gang would like to invite you to taste the fruits of their labours. After years of tirelessly exploiting the natives of many different continents, The Blackheart Gang are ready to wipe the sweat from their brow, and take a step back to appreciate the fruits of their labours. In studying their work, it becomes apparent why lemons are the bitterest of fruit, why bears are transformed into gold, and where bathwater flows to.
In 1863, the poet Edward Lear wrote of The Blackheart Gang:
“Six feet south,
But worlds apart.
Beware the mouth
Of The Blackheart”
This verse has suffered much critique over the years, partly because it made no sense, or is at least considered to be geographically ambiguous, but mostly because Edward Lear had been smoking opium with Markus Wormstorm when he came up with it.
Lear died soon afterwards, but his words remain a warning from beyond the grave.
Ree Treweek enjoys a good funeral and has delivered many eulogies, mostly at the funerals of her numerous dead husbands. In 1924, she famously ended one such eulogy with the words:
” Begone, begone – you cruel, listless, droll bigot.”
It’s this remarkable gift of the gab that has over the years allowed The Blackheart Gang to convince the public they had the ability to travel to another realm, a place they call The Household. It is here, the legend goes, that they collect the histories which form the body of their work.
They retell these stories through sculpture, music and paintings … and, in some cases, even pastries.
In her address to the nation, Margret Thatcher once referred to Markus Wormstorm as “… quite a catch.” The strong, stocky composer’s heavy brow is framed by an egg-shaped face.
Ree Treweek is worshipped as a deity by an island-dwelling cargo cult in the Indian Ocean. The islanders say the wild artisan’s hair is the colour of jungle fire, and that her blood is the colour of ink.