/ 2025
we thought it was all fine until i realised there was an earthquake on the otherside of town / it was all fine when she realised there was this whole landscape burried under a layer of ice
We grow up believing the ground we stand on is steady, until a distant quake unsettles everything, revealing that the Earth beneath us is never truly still. In response to this shifting world, we retreat inward, seeking refuge in spaces reminiscent of childhood forts and dens, fragile architectures built to contain chaos and impose a semblance of order. Within these cracks, brokenness itself becomes the seedbed for transformation. Just as the self is never fixed but ever-changing, unfolding slowly and patiently, we come to realize that the person we were searching for has been waiting within these very fractures all along.
Rush, wishes, and instinct play themselves out across the surface of the landscape passing by. The terrain becomes a mirror, a tool for mapping both consciousness and the submerged layers of the subconscious. The tunnel, space of passage, of in-between, embodies this. It is a place of transit and of longing, a wish for eternity condensed into a brief piercing through time. Like glaciers carving the landscapes.
Landscapes are never still; they carry motion, and with motion, they carry emotion. William McGuir writes of the topography of the phenomenal self, reminding us that identity emerges not from abstract theories but from the raw, unguarded words we speak when asked who we are.
we thought it was all fine until i realised there was an earthquake on the otherside of town
caramel, oak
118 × 96 x 68
Fallen Angels
gelatin silver print, arylic glas, mohair, wool, silk, cotton, silver buttons, eyelets, spacer screws
75x 36 x 7,5 cm
Topographie des Ichs
speaker, model tent, adder stone, metal wire, zoom loop of Caspar David Friedrich’s “Mann und Frau in Betrachtung des Mondes” (12:43 min), sound in collaboration with Jan Hammele
29 × 192 × 29,5 cm